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To Chase a Feather in the Wind	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1696 -:- 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
- 16
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Six weeks later
Doctor Alexander Giebelhouse peered at Booker over the rim of his glasses. “You need to start working with me Dennis, otherwise you’ll never get well.”
Booker’s eyes remained fixed on the floor. “Maybe I don’t want to get well,” he mumbled.
Giebelhouse leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his broad chest. “If that’s true Dennis, I’ll have no choice but to recommend that we obtain an Involuntary Commitment Order and once in place, that could mean you don’t leave here for a very long time. Do you understand what I’m telling you? You’re here under evaluation at the moment, but all that could change with the stroke of a judge’s pen.”
Dennis remained motionless for several minutes before lifting his head and staring at the doctor with lifeless eyes. “What was the question?” he asked in a flat voice.
The doctor sighed in frustration. Dennis Booker was a difficult patient and in the five weeks he had been at the Rosewood Psychiatric Facility, he had made little progress. His treatment had been somewhat impeded by the intense side effects of his drug withdrawal but despite that, Giebelhouse had hoped that they would be further along with their therapy sessions and it annoyed him that Dennis refused to cooperate. He was not used to dealing with insolence; most of his patients were desperate to get well so they could start their lives afresh, but not the man sitting in front of him. Dennis had remained stubbornly tight-lipped throughout most of their sessions and when he did speak, he was mostly monosyllabic and reticent about discussing his feelings.
Picking up his notebook, Giebelhouse repeated his question in an emotionless voice. “Do you become aroused when men touch you in an intimate way or is it the pain they inflict that you enjoy?”
Dennis’ face flushed red and lowering his head, he picked nervously at a scab on his arm. “Both,” he muttered in a soft voice.
Giebelhouse scribbled in his notebook before continuing. “Did you have homosexual tendencies before your first rape?”
Shaking his head, Dennis stared at the blood that was beginning to seep to the surface of his damaged skin. “No,” he mumbled. “I only liked women.”
Putting down his pen, Giebelhouse studied Booker’s bowed head. “So after you were raped by Maurice Keppler and the other men, you started lusting after males and that’s why you raped Tom Hanson, is that what you’re telling me?”
Booker’s body began to tremble uncontrollably and he wrapped his arms protectively across his chest. “No,” he murmured. “I only started to enjoy it after I found Da— I mean Keppler, at the cabin.”
“So why did you rape Tom?” Giebelhouse asked bluntly.
When he eventually lifted his head, tears glistened in Booker’s pain-filled eyes. “I don’t know,” he choked.
Pleased that he was finally starting to make progress, Giebelhouse continued his questioning in an impassive voice. “But to rape him, you had to be aroused, isn’t that right?”
Wiping at his nose with the back of his hand, Booker gave an almost unperceivable nod. “Yes, but… you don’t understand, he came on to me and—”
“Tom Hanson came on to you?” Giebelhouse asked in a disbelieving voice. “Are you sure it wasn’t you who became aroused when you saw Tom in a state of undress?”
“NO!” Dennis yelled and jumping to his feet, he began to frantically pace the small room. “That’s NOT what happened! He told me I was beautiful and it brought back all these unwanted memories and—”
Doctor Giebelhouse pressed the silent alarm under his desk and slowly rose to his feet. “Dennis, I need you to calm dow—”
Booker lunged forward and grabbing the front of Giebelhouse’s shirt, he began to yell into the terrified man's face. “I DON’T WANT TO BE CALM! YOU WANTED ME TO TALK AND NOW YOU’RE CALLING ME A LIAR? YOU SONOFABITCH! YOU FUCKING SONOFA—”
The door flew open and two burly orderlies rushed forward and pulled Booker away from the frightened doctor. Twisting his arms behind his back, they easily forced him to the floor.
“NO!” Dennis screamed hysterically as he struggled to break free. “DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TOUCH ME!”
Alexander Giebelhouse quickly regained his composure and stepping forward, he squatted down and peered into Booker’s frightened eyes. “I think a few hours in a straight jacket will make you see the error of your ways, don’t you Dennis?”
Dennis’ eyes bulged in fear and tears streamed down his face. “No! Please Doctor Giebelhouse, not that! Please don’t put me in that thing. I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you ask. I promise! I PROMISE!”
“Put him in the padded room,” Giebelhouse instructed the orderlies, “but don’t sedate him. This time I want him to remember his punishment.”
As the two men dragged Dennis kicking and screaming from the room, Giebelhouse watched silently, his face devoid of any emotion. That would show the stubborn little ingrate who was in charge.
**
Standing naked at the barred window of his room, Booker’s tears flowed freely down his pale cheeks. He had spent four hours in the padded room, trapped inside the bindings of the straight jacket and he was mentally and physically exhausted. His upper body ached from the confinement, he was hungry and thirsty because he had missed dinner and his feelings of isolation only added to his deep depression.
Pressing his forehead against the cool metal bars, he reached down and stroked his flaccid cock. It had been over a month since he had been able to obtain an erection and he wondered if his impotence was from the medication or if the abuse had finally taken its toll on his body. He thought back to the times when Daddy had held him tenderly in his arms and rewarded him for being a good boy and the flow of his tears intensified. Daddy was dead, the needle in his vein having delivered one final euphoric high before stopping his heart forever. The police had explained to him that it was a bad batch of heroin and several deaths had occurred throughout California. When he had asked what had happened to his Daddy, the police had given him very little information except to say that a family member had claimed the body. He had no idea where his Daddy’s final resting place was but he hoped it was somewhere tranquil and that he was at peace.
Minutes passed and his thoughts turned to Tom. Doctor Giebelhouse’s question started to echo in his mind, so why did you rape Tom… rape Tom… rape Tom… and screwing his eyes closed, he stifled a sob. It had been a shock to find out Tom was not dead but it had not taken away any of the torment he felt at the pain he had caused his friend. He honestly had no answer to the question of why he had done what he had done except that Tom’s words had triggered something deep inside his drug-fueled brain and he had snapped. However, it was not an excuse and he knew he would have to live with the guilt for the rest of his life, just as Tom would have to live with the violation.
With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes and moving away from the window, he lay down on the hard narrow bed. His hand remained wrapped around his cock and although he was not aroused, it gave him some measure of comfort. He missed the sexual stimulation and pain that defined his existence because without it, he did not know who he was anymore. Dennis Booker the son, the brother and the police officer no longer existed. He was a hollow representation of his former self; he was a body without a soul and he was devoid of the range of emotions that made him feel connected.
He was empty.
Closing his fingers slowly together, he squeezed his limp cock. A sharp jolt of pain flooded through his nerves and he gasped in pleasure as his body came alive. But it was not enough and using his free hand, he began to pick at a large jagged wound across his stomach that had never completely healed. Ripping off the scab, he felt warm blood coating his fingertips and he sighed contentedly. He may not be able to give himself the sexual satisfaction he yearned but he could still inflict a certain amount of pain and as a rush of endorphins coursed through his body, he came to a decision. He needed to get out of Rosewood because then, and only then, would he find the masochistic gratification his body craved.
**
Two weeks later
A cool breeze ruffled Tom’s hair and zipping up his jacket, he slammed the car door closed and walked the short distance to Penhall’s apartment. Since their discussion at the bowling alley nearly three months before, they had set aside every Friday night so they could spend time together repairing their shattered friendship. It had taken time, but slowly the trust had returned and once again, they viewed each other as best friends.
When Penhall opened his apartment door, he greeted Tom with a wide smile. “Hey Hanson, how’s things?”
Tom returned the smile and walking into the apartment, he shrugged out of his jacket and threw it onto a chair. “Can’t complain. You?”
Doug closed the door and walking into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and took out two beers. “Busy,” he replied and pulling off the tops, he handed Tom a bottle and sat down.
Nodding his head, Tom took a seat on the couch and sipped his beer. He tried not to think about it too much but he missed working with Penhall at the Chapel and sometimes he wondered if he had made the right decision leaving the police force. Although he had left so he could devote more time searching for Booker, as fate would have it, it was a random motorist who had found his friend, not him and therefore, his resignation had been in vain. However, he was too stubborn and too proud to admit he had made a mistake and so he carried on working part-time at the alley whilst trying to build up his business.
Not wanting to talk about the Jump Street program, he remained silent as he nervously picked at the edge of the label on his beer bottle. He desperately needed to talk to Doug but he honestly did not know how his friend would react to the news he was about to tell him. As the minutes slowly passed in awkward silence, his nervousness increased and just as he was about to speak, Penhall let out a heavy sigh. “Tommy, what’s wrong?”
Lifting his head, Tom’s mouth twitched nervously. “I want to talk to you about something but I need you to hear me out before you start yelling.”
A frown creased Penhall’s brow but he remained calm. “O-kay,” he replied slowly. “So what’s on your mind?”
Tom took a large swallow of beer and placing the bottle down on the coffee table, he leaned forward and gave his friend an apprehensive smile. “I received a phone call from the Rosewood Psychiatric Facility. Booker’s being discharged.”
Penhall’s eyes widened in surprise. “Jesus, he’s been in there less than two months! Do they really think he’s ready to come out?” he asked incredulously.
Leaning back against the couch cushions, Tom wiped his hand nervously across his mouth. “The doctor I spoke to said he’s made real progress in the last couple of weeks. Also, they can only keep him in there for eight weeks, any longer than that and they need to get a Commitment Order signed by a judge.”
“But is he ready to be released?” Doug repeated obstinately. “Because from where I’m sitting, he was pretty screwed up.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Tom let out a weary sigh. “I s’pose so, I mean they wouldn’t let him out otherwise, right?”
Doug was not so sure but he kept his opinion to himself. He knew how much Booker’s recovery meant to Tom and he did not want to put a dampener on his happy news. “Well, as long as he’s okay I guess it’s good news. So, is he moving back in with his parents?”
A soft pink colored Tom’s cheeks and lowering his eyes, his legs began to jig nervously up and down. “Actually, I told the doctor he could come and live with me,” he replied softly.
“WHAT?!” Doug exploded. “Are you fucking insane? For Christ’s sake Hanson, he raped you!”
Tom’s lower lip pushed out into a soft pout. “You said you wouldn’t yell,” he muttered in a petulant voice.
Taking a deep breath, Doug clenched his fists and attempted to rein in his anger. "You’re right and I’m sorry but Tommy, this is crazy. You can’t have him living with you, not after what he did.”
Raking his fingers through his hair, Tom let out a sigh. “I know it sounds crazy, but Doug, he hasn’t got anybody else. His family has deserted him because they don’t understand why he voluntarily went back to Keppler. If he doesn’t come and live with me, he’ll have to go in a group home and he’ll never get his life back.”
Leaning forward in his chair, Doug gave Tom a penetrating glare. “Do you understand why he went back to Keppler?” he asked pointedly. “Because I sure as hell don’t.”
“Yes,” Tom replied stubbornly. “I understand completely.”
“Really?” Doug snorted derisively. “Dazzle me with your insight Doctor Hanson.”
Jumping to his feet, Tom glared down at Penhall. “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH AN ASSHOLE?” he yelled.
Penhall rose slowly to his feet and taking a step forward, he glowered back at his friend. “Because when it comes to Booker, you think with your cock instead of your head.”
Within seconds, Tom’s fist connected with Doug’s jaw, the impact sending the larger man staggering backwards. With an enraged yell, Doug drew back his fist but just moments before he threw the retaliating punch, his senses kicked in and lowering his arm, he stared back at Tom’s furious face. “I think you’d better go,” he muttered in a cold voice.
Tom remained where he was standing, his chest heaving heavily and his fists clenched in readiness for battle. But when he realized Doug was not going to attack him, all the fight left his body and turning away, he walked silently from the apartment.
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To Chase a Feather in the Wind