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Poor Tom	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1469 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 21JS or the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
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A week later and Booker was once again sitting with Tom in Doctor Lewis’ office. They were now only one step away from Tom’s release but Dennis knew the therapy session would not be easy if their last meeting was anything to go by. Hanson stared quietly at the floor, seemingly unwilling to make eye contact with either Booker or the doctor. For a fleeting moment, Dennis wondered if Tom really was ready to leave the sanctuary of Brentwood but he quickly pushed the thought aside. Although he did not trust Jarrod Lewis, he did trust Doctor Haverland’s judgment and therefore as much as he was dreading it, he was ready to participate in the final psychotherapy session so the powers that be could tick all the bureaucratic boxes and he could finally take Tom home.
Lewis picked up his pen and smiled at Hanson. “Now Tom, today I would like you to talk to Dennis about the final rapes.”
Tom lifted his damaged arm and rubbed awkwardly at his top lip with his fingers. “Okay,” he whispered, his eyes engaging Dennis’ briefly before looking away.
“No Tom,” the doctor admonished quietly. “I need you to make eye contact with Dennis when you speak.”
Hanson immediately lifted his gaze and gave Booker a small, sad smile. “You might look at me differently when you hear this,” he murmured softly.
Standing up, Booker pulled his chair closer so his knees were touching Tom’s. “No I won’t Tommy. Whatever happened to you in there was not your fault. You did what you had to do to survive.”
“Maybe,” Hanson muttered. “But maybe I could have done more.”
Dennis took a moment to think about his answer before replying. “My grandmother used to say that hindsight was a wonderful thing. We can all look back and wish we’d done things differently but that’s not reality Tom. You coped in the only way you knew how to at the time. So don’t beat yourself up over it and for God’s sake don’t think that I’m going to judge you in any way. I can’t even imagine what you went through and I sure as hell don’t know how I would have coped.”
“Very well said Mr. Booker,” Lewis stated in a somewhat disparaging manner. “I’m sure Tom will take great comfort from your words.”
Dennis shot the doctor a withering look before focusing his attention back on Tom. “Are you ready?”
Hanson nodded. Taking a deep breath, he gazed into Booker’s accepting brown eyes. “I knew they would come, Fuller had been in to see me and it was my last night there. I was so depressed by then that half the time I didn’t even remember I was a cop. It was like a thick fog was clouding my mind and I was on autopilot, eating, sleeping, going to class but not really aware of what was going on around me. Do you understand what I mean?”
“Yes,” Dennis answered softly. “You were in a living nightmare.”
“Exactly,” Tom exhaled, the relief showing on his face. “So when they came, I was too numb to care anymore. I just wanted it over, I just wanted to go home.” Hanson paused for a moment as he chewed anxiously on his lower lip.
“It’s okay Tommy,” Booker encouraged, wanting the session to end but knowing he had to let Tom speak at his own pace. “Take your time.”
Nervously licking his lips, Hanson continued. “He started to touch me, to stroke me and… and this time my body reacted.”
Booker could not keep the shock from his eyes but he quickly pulled himself together. The last thing Tom needed was to see how shaken he was by the admission. Placing a hand on Tom’s thigh, he gave a small smile. “Keep going.”
Tom’s breathing became more rapid and his gaze pleaded with Booker to understand. “I couldn’t help it!” he cried softly, as a single tear slid down his cheek. “Part of me was switched off but the other part could still feel.” When Booker did not answer, Hanson continued, this time more quietly. “He dropped his trousers and boxers and told me to kneel down, he said he wanted to spice things up.”
Knowing exactly what was coming, Dennis felt his stomach lurch and he had to use all his willpower to maintain an impassive expression. He was not being judgmental, he just had not expected Tom to behave in such a manner. But he knew it was wrong of him to feel that way as he had no idea how he himself would react if put in a similar situation.
Hanson was more aware than Booker realized and sensing Dennis’ shock, he quickly broke eye contact and looked down at the floor. He was therefore surprised to feel Booker’s fingers gently push his long bangs away from his eyes. “Look at me,” Dennis instructed tenderly. Hanson slowly lifted his head and met Booker’s kind eyes. “I’m sorry, I admit it, I’m a little shocked but not because I think you reacted badly but because until now, I didn’t really understand what kind of hell you went through.”
Tom managed a shy smile. “It’s weird. Now that I’m talking about it to you I kind of feel like I don’t have to be ashamed anymore.”
And just like that, everything snapped into place for Booker. Turning around, he saw Jarrod Lewis smiling broadly. “Do you now understand why these sessions were so important Mr. Booker?” the doctor asked somewhat smugly.
Although Dennis did not like the man, he could now identify with his method of therapy. By having Tom open up to him, they had developed a bond of trust, something that Hanson had struggled with since his superiors had failed him by not checking on his welfare whilst he was in Riverbend. An embarrassed smile played across Booker’s lips. “I do,” he replied softly. “And I apologize.”
Lewis nodded in approval. “Very good. Now Tom, would you like to leave it for today or do you think you can keep going.”
Raising his head, Tom looked confident for the first time in weeks. “I’ll keep going… I want to go home.”
“Excellent!” Lewis replied as he started scribbling in his notebook. “Please continue.”
Hanson closed his eyes as if he was trying to remember the final ordeal. After several moments, he opened them and stared directly at Booker. “So I knelt down,” he continued in a quiet, calm voice. “And I sucked him off. But only for a minute ‘cause I guess he didn’t want to come, at least not then. I remember choking when he thrust too deep into my throat and I think he made some kind of comment about my gag reflex. When he released me, he took me over to the bed and told me to lie down. Then he asked the others if he should make me scream or let me stay silent. Someone said they liked it when I screamed but he said he wanted to treat me nice ‘cause it was my last night but everyone could take a turn and do as they pleased. He had some kind of lotion and put it on me before covering himself. It made it less painful when he entered me. Then, whilst he was… you know… he started to touch me and the small part of my mind that could still feel must have liked it ‘cause I came. Then he started thrusting harder and he climaxed and then someone else took his place but I don’t really remember the rest of them or what they did and then it was over and they left.”
When Tom finished speaking, tears spilled from Booker’s eyes. “Oh Tommy!” he cried and reaching over, he wrapped his arms around Hanson. After several seconds, he felt Tom’s damaged arms clumsily holding him close and they both wept openly, one from immense sadness at the horror his friend had suffered and the other from the relief he felt at disclosing intimate information about his assaults and not being judged.
Jarrod Lewis looked on with a satisfied smile. It had not been an easy case and he knew Tom needed many more hours of therapy to help him deal with the pain and humiliation that he had endured. But he felt confident that with Dennis Booker by his side, Tom was ready to leave the Brentwood Psychiatric Facility and start to assimilate back into the real world.
Closing his notebook, the doctor stood up. “I’ll write up my report to Doctor Haverland. Pack your bags Tom, you’re going home."
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- 15
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Poor Tom