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Over the Hills and Far Away	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 2103 -:- 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
- 13
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- 15
The next week passed by in a haze for Tom. Still suffering from the side effects of coming off his medications, he spent most of his time in bed, drifting in and out of the nightmares that plagued his sleep. He often woke up screaming, his body drenched in sweat as he frantically begged unseen men not to hurt him. Booker spent many hours sitting on the bed, gently rocking Tom in his arms whilst quietly reassuring him that he would never let anyone harm him again. Once calmed, Tom would bow his head, silently urging Dennis to stroke his hair in the comforting way that he associated with feeling safe. As Booker ran his fingers through Hanson’s tousled hair, his thoughts would turn to El Salvador and the broken man that he had found lying in a hospital bed in the city of Ahuachapán. Tom still had a long way to go with his recovery but Booker was relieved that he could at least be by his friend’s side during the difficult times.
Dennis set up a home office so he could continue to work in a limited capacity whilst keeping an eye on Hanson. It took time, but Tom’s nausea and dizziness eventually became less frequent and he spent fewer hours lying listlessly in bed. He still had trouble sleeping and the nightmares he suffered were just as terrifying but he was slowly beginning to reassert himself back into the world. His first transition was from the bed to the couch, where he spent hours watching television. During this time, he rarely showered and it was as though he had no interest in his appearance. He barely ate, choosing to live off cans of soup and bottles of coke. Although worried, Booker chose not to intervene. Instead, he patiently waited for the next phase of Tom’s recovery to begin.
A fortnight later he was rewarded when Tom started showering every morning. It was a small step but Booker could see a new Tom slowly emerging like a butterfly from its cocoon. As his health improved, so did Tom’s appetite. With each new hurdle conquered, his confidence grew and he gradually became more interested in his surroundings. It was during this time that Booker reintroduced Tom to the outside world. He started slow, taking him out for leisurely drives to the Joshua Tree National Park where they walked along the hiking trails, silently taking in the beauty of the nature around them. As Tom’s spirits lifted, they began frequenting trendy cafés and restaurants several times a week. Although steadily becoming more self-assured, Tom barely spoke more than a few words at a time. He rarely revealed how he was feeling and the only time Dennis felt truly close to Tom was when he held him in his arms and gently stroked his hair after one of his night terrors. It was not the relationship Dennis had initially wished for but he was grateful for every moment he spent with Tom. All he could do was hope that in time, Tom would value their friendship as much as he did.
Six weeks after moving in with Dennis, Tom emerged one evening dressed in a dark blue button-down shirt, tight denim jeans and boots. Booker looked up from his paperwork and his eyes widened as he took in Hanson’s appearance. Never before could he remember Tom looking so beautiful and his heart hammered in his chest as he became instantly aroused and he swallowed deeply in an attempt to calm himself. Standing up, he managed a smile. “Wow Tom, why the fancy clothes? I thought we were ordering in pizza tonight.”
Tom shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, refusing to meet Dennis’ gaze. “I want to go out,” he mumbled.
Booker was somewhat taken aback by Tom initiating a proposed outing. Pulling himself together, he checked his watch. “Okay, just give me a minute and I’ll—“
“No!” Tom replied forcefully. “I don’t want to go out with you, I want to go out on my own.”
Wounded by Hanson’s bluntness, Dennis stared back open mouthed. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, he quickly gathered his thoughts. “Um, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea Tom,” he replied quietly.
As soon as Booker spoke, Tom’s mood darkened even further. “I don’t care what you think, I’m going out whether you like it or not.”
Raking his fingers through his hair, Dennis attempted to reason with Tom. “C’mon Tommy, think about it. You haven’t been out on your own in weeks. Why not take it slow, you know ease back into it.”
Ignoring Booker’s plea, Hanson held out his hand. “I need money,” he demanded coldly.
Beginning to lose his temper, Dennis glared back angrily. “And what if I don’t give you any, what are you going to do then, huh?”
Hanson smiled callously. “There are other ways I can get money Dennis,” he purred softly. “In case you’ve forgotten, I have a lot experience in making men happy.”
A look of horror washed over Booker’s face. Tom’s words were like a knife to the heart and he suddenly wondered if he even knew the man standing before him. Realizing that Tom was determined to go out with or without money, he reached into his pocket with a shaky hand and pulled out several large bills. “Here,” he muttered, handing them to Tom. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Taking the money, Tom gave Booker an impassive look. “I’ve been to hell Dennis,” he replied flatly. “There’s nothing more that can happen to me.”
Shoving the notes into his pocket, he turned away and exited the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
**
Rolling onto his side, Dennis sighed when he heard the clock strike four. Sitting up, he turned on the table lamp and rubbed his face with his hands. It was the sixth consecutive night that Tom had gone out alone and each night he returned in the early hours of the morning reeking of cheap whiskey. He spent his days sleeping, re-emerging late in the afternoon to eat whatever leftovers were in the fridge before getting ready to go out again. On the third night, he returned home with his neck covered in love bites and Dennis felt a jealous rage rising within him. Tom made no effort to hide the signs of his sexual exploits and as each day passed, Booker became more and more resentful. It hurt him that Hanson flaunted his conquests so proudly even though he had never told Tom how he felt about him. As far as Dennis knew, Tom had no recollection of their time together in El Salvador, except that he had taken care of him. However, deep down he had a feeling that Hanson was deliberately goading him and that he was waiting for Dennis to react to his behavior. But Booker remained silent, refusing to be drawn into whatever game Tom was playing.
Standing up, he walked into the kitchen and began to prepare a pot of coffee. He heard the front door open and close but he did not turn around and greet Tom. Instead, he pretended that he had not heard Hanson enter and continued to busy himself with his task. A moment later, he felt hot breath on the back of his neck, causing goose bumps to prickle his skin. “Good… you’re up,” Tom murmured softly, the smell of whiskey assaulting Dennis’ nostrils.
Feeling Tom pressing against him, Dennis twisted his head around and met Hanson’s coked up stare. His body stiffened as Tom’s hands wandered over his torso, stopping to rest on his stomach. Hanson’s hand moved slowly downwards and Dennis gasped as nimble fingers lightly fondled his cock through the material of his boxers. “You like that, don’t you Dennis?” Hanson muttered, delighting in the feel of Booker’s erection growing in his hand.
“Stop,” Dennis whispered, powerless to move away from Tom’s probing fingers. “Tommy, what are you—“
“Shh,” Tom breathed against Booker’s ear as he began to rub his own large erection against Dennis’ backside. “I know you want it Dennis and we can have so much fun. I’ll ride you so hard, you’ll pop like warm champagne.”
The sound of Dennis’ labored breathing resonated around the room. “Oh God Tommy… please stop,” he pleaded.
Ignoring the request, Tom nibbled seductively on Dennis’ earlobe. “Make me,” he taunted, his fingers tugging at Booker’s erection.
The teasing tone of Hanson’s voice had an immediate effect on Dennis. Turning swiftly around, he shoved Tom violently away. “I said STOP!”
Tom let out a hollow laugh. “What’s the matter Dennis? Doesn’t sane Tommy turn you on? Maybe you still fantasize about poor little damaged Tommy.” Stepping forward, he trailed a finger lightly down Booker’s stomach. “Quieres lefa Den-nis?” he tormented softly, his thumb rubbing over Booker’s engorged cockhead.
Dennis slapped Tom’s hand away. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” he yelled. “WHY THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THIS?”
Tom tilted his head on one side as though considering the question. “Gee Dennis, let me think, what could be wrong with me?” he asked sarcastically. “Maybe the reason I’m so fucked up is because I went to El Salvador to help my best friend. I get kidnapped, I’m tortured and oh yes, let’s not forget, I was raped! But the funny thing is, this so-called friend hasn’t even bothered to contact me since I got back, so I guess the joke’s on me, huh.”
Tears filled Dennis’ eyes. “Tommy don’t—“
“WAIT!” Hanson shouted, waving his arms crazily above his head, the effects of his recent cocaine use evident by his dilated pupils. “The best is still to come. I’m rescued by the last person on this earth that I thought would ever give a fuck about me. He cared for me. Hell… I think he even loved me and for the first time in two fucking years, I felt safe.” Hot tears began to stream down Tom’s face. “And then… well, I think we all know what happened next, don’t we? He sent me away. He fucking sent me away and I was tortured again. They zapped my fucking brain with 120 volts of electricity!”
Tom’s demeanor changed and he gazed at Dennis with sad, bewildered eyes. “Why did they do that?” he whispered, a sob catching in his throat. “Why did they hurt me?”
Dennis’ own tears began to flow. “I’m sorry Tommy,” he cried, stepping forward and attempting to pull Hanson into his arms. “I had to send you away. You needed help.”
“I NEEDED YOU!” Tom screamed hysterically, shoving Dennis violently away. “Why couldn’t you see that?”
“Oh God Tommy, I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!” Dennis wept. “Please! Please forgive me. I only did what I thought was best.”
“FUCK YOU!” Hanson screamed, his eyes flashing crazily. “You should have left me in El Salvador to die!”
“Don’t say that Tom, please don’t say that,” Dennis begged, unable to accept that Tom really felt that way.
“Why not?” Hanson asked flatly, his rage suddenly replaced by despondency. “Maybe I’d be better off.”
Before Dennis could respond, he turned away and walked slowly out of the apartment, quietly closing the door behind him.
**
When the clock struck twelve, signaling midnight and the start of a new day, Dennis leaned over and switched on the table lamp. He had been sitting in darkness for hours, desperately waiting for Tom to walk back through the door. But as the hours passed, he began to realize that it was doubtful that Hanson would ever come home. A cold fear gripped his heart at the thought of Tom wandering through the dangerous L.A. streets alone. Everything he had done for Tom had led to this solitary moment in time. It was his fault, all of it and for the first time since rescuing him, Dennis began to wonder if it would have been better if Tom had never been found at all.
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- 15
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Over the Hills and Far Away