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On the Wings of Maybe	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1468 -:- 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.

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I have chosen the song "How Can You Mend A Broken Heart" to accompany this chapter. My father suffered a stroke ten years ago and during his first year of rehabilitation, he would play this song over and over again. It literally broke my heart. However, ten years on, he is now 81 years old and although he never fully recovered, he is living a full and happy life.
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Lyrics from "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart" by the Bee Gees
I can think of younger days when living for my life

Was everything a man could want to do

I could never see tomorrow,

But I was never told about the sorrow
And how can you mend a broken heart?

How can you stop the rain from falling down?

How can you stop the sun from shining?

What makes the world go round?

How can you mend this broken man?

How can a loser ever win?

Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again
I can still feel the breeze that rustles through the trees

And misty memories of days gone by

We could never see tomorrow,

No one said a word about the sorrow
And how can you mend a broken heart?

How can you stop the rain from falling down?

How can you stop the sun from shining?

What makes the world go round?

And how can you mend this broken man?

How can a loser ever win?

Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again
La la la la la la, la la la la

La la la la la la, la la la la
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again
Da da da da

Da da da da, da da da da da, da
Six days later
Tom sat at his desk, chewing on the end of his pen as he stared off into space. He had spent every evening sitting outside of the ICU, all the while hoping that he would run into Joyce Booker so he could once again plead his case to see Dennis. But if the Booker family were at the hospital, he never saw them and he had to content himself with giving the nurses handwritten messages to pass onto Dennis. The only real news he received about his lover’s condition was what his captain told him; he was awake and resting comfortably. But to Tom, that was a politician’s response, a way to avoid answering the question. He knew it was not Fuller’s fault, his superior was getting his information from the Commissioner, the Commissioner was getting it from Booker’s family and they were being very cagey with the information they divulged. However, that did not lessen the deep, crushing hurt he felt in his heart; hurt at being kept in the dark about Dennis’ condition and hurt that he could not openly confess his love because he knew what his friends and family would think; they would be horrified.
With a sigh, he tossed down his pen and gazed up at the clock. He still had another hour to kill before he could leave and go to the hospital. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his chair and thought about Dennis. He wondered if his family was sitting with him, if he was able to speak, eat, drink or walk. There were so many variables to consider with regards to a person’s physical and mental state after suffering a stroke. Many found themselves paralyzed down one side; other’s lost their speech or suffered facial palsy. It was all an unknown. But as the days passed by, he began to imagine the worst. He remembered how angry Booker was at having to use a walking stick because of the injury to his leg and it terrified him to think how his lover was coping emotionally. If Dennis was left permanently disabled, he felt sure that their relationship would be over. Not because he wanted it to end, but because Dennis would not allow him to witness the daily struggles. Booker was a very proud and private man and Tom was certain he would shut him out because he feared seeing the pitying look in his eyes. His ego was too great and he would rather fight on alone than risk feeling like a victim.
At the thought of what might become, Tom blinked back the tears that threatened to spill from his brown eyes and quickly pulled himself together. Opening his eyes, he saw Penhall’s puzzled face scrutinizing him from across the room. He ran a hand through his hair and forced a smile to his lips but he could see by Doug’s expression that his attempt at happiness was unconvincing and he chewed nervously at his thumbnail as his friend approached.
“Everything okay Hanson?” Doug asked gently.
Tom endeavored yet again to force a smile but he could not keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Peachy. You?”
Penhall pulled up a chair and straddling it backwards, he rested his arms on the wooden back and gazed into his friend’s eyes. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter Tommy. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing,” Tom mumbled against his thumb. “I’m just sick of sitting around here all day doing squat.” When Doug continued to stare at him with his dark, penetrating eyes, he quickly lowered his head. He was terrified that his best friend would be able to read his thoughts and see the love he felt for Booker and the pain he felt in his heart at the suffering he was enduring.
But Penhall was not that astute and he figured Hanson’s melancholy mood really was because of boredom. Standing up, he walked over and placed an arm around his shoulder. “What you need is a night out,” he suggested enthusiastically. “How ‘bout we go bowling.”
Doug’s cheerful lopsided grin had the desired effect and Tom managed a genuine smile. “Sure, how about I meet you there at seven.”
“Get ready to have your ass whipped,” Doug shot back cheekily.
This time Tom managed a laugh, “In your dreams Penhall.” As he watched his friend walk back to his desk, he felt happier than he had in days. He would go to the hospital first, leave another message with the nurses to pass on to Dennis and then he would allow himself to have some fun, if only for a short while. He knew he needed it, his depression was starting to monopolize his life and if he was to give Dennis the support he needed, he had to have a positive outlook.
Picking up his pen, he scrawled a message to Dennis.
**
For the first time in days, Tom wore the expression of a happy man. He was looking forward to spending time with Penhall and putting aside his stresses for a few hours. It was not that he was forgetting about Dennis and his fight to get well, it was that he needed to pull himself out of his misery. Otherwise, he knew he would fall into a pit of despair that he would not be able to climb out of and that frightened him. He was not one to fall apart; he had always prided himself on being resilient and strong. But Dennis evoked intense emotions within him that he did not even know existed. He physically hurt for his lover and that was a new experience.
Arriving at the nurses’ station, he smiled broadly at one of the ICU nurses that he had come to know. “So Emily, I guess it’s still pointless me asking you how Dennis is?”
Emily Page looked up from her paperwork in surprise. “Tom, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Hanson’s smile quickly vanished and his face visibly paled. “Why, has something happened?” he asked in alarm.
Seeing the terrified look on Tom’s face, Emily reached over the counter and gently touched his cheek. “Oh sweetie, don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. Dennis has been moved to a rehabilitation clinic, that’s all.”
The breath Tom had been holding escaped in a rush of air. “Oh thank God! You scared the hell out of me! Where’s he gone?”
Emily’s expression saddened. “You know I can’t tell you that,” she replied in a quiet voice. “The family has asked for privacy.”
“Fuck the family!” Tom exclaimed in a burst of aggression. “They’ve got no right to keep him from me! No fucking right! I’m his…”
As his voice trailed off, a flicker of understanding flashed in Emily’s eyes and she spoke in a conspiratorial whisper, “Tom, are you and Dennis involved?”
“Why?” Tom spat back angrily. “Would it have made a difference, huh? Would you have allowed me to see him if I’d admitted I was his gay lover? Or would it have just been a tasty bit of gossip to relieve the boredom.”
When he saw Emily’s hurt expression, his anger vanished as quickly as it had risen. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I know none of this is your fault.”
Emily walked around the counter and taking hold of his hand, she led him over to one of the red plastic chairs that had become his second home. After motioning for him to sit down, she sat next to him and grasped his hand in both of hers. “I’m really, really sorry. If I’d known, I might have been able to convince the Bookers to let you see Dennis.”
Overcome with emotion, Tom’s eyes filled with tears and he lowered his head in embarrassment. “It wouldn’t have made any difference,” he sobbed softly. “He didn’t want to see me.”
Emily’s eyebrows knitted together. “Who told you that?”
Wiping at his eyes, Tom sniffed loudly. “Dennis’ mom.”
A dark cloud crossed over Emily’s face. “Well, she may have said that but it’s not true, at least as far as I know.”
Lifting his head, Tom stared back at her in puzzlement. “What do you mean? Joyce told me he didn’t want to see me. I’ve been sending him notes and never once has there been a message back. If he wanted to see me he would have let somebody know!”
It was Emily’s turn to look embarrassed. “Actually… Tom, there’s something I should tell you. Joyce Booker intercepted every note we took in. I doubt Dennis even got to read them.”
“What?!” Tom cried out incredulously. “Does he even know that I was here every day? Did anyone tell him how worried I’ve been?”
Emily’s embarrassment intensified. “We weren’t allowed to,” she muttered uncomfortably. “Nurse Collins is friends with Joyce Booker and we were instructed to keep quiet about your visits.”
A single whispered word tumbled from Tom’s lips, “Why?”
“I honestly don’t know Tom,” Emily admitted. “None of us knew you were his boyfriend so it can’t be anything to do with that. Maybe it was because—”
“Bullshit,” Tom muttered furiously. “She didn’t want anyone finding out that her precious Dennis was gay. She pretends that she’s supportive of his sexuality but she’s not, she’s a conniving, evil bitch.”
“Maybe…” Emily replied carefully. “Or maybe she’s just protecting him.”
Tom’s eyes flashed angrily. “From what? Me?”
“I don’t know,” Emily replied slowly. “But you were with him when this happened.”
Getting quickly to his feet, Tom angrily pulled his hand from Emily’s grasp. “YOU THINK THIS IS MY FAULT?!” he yelled. “I TRIED TO GET US OUT! I TRIED EVERYTHING I KNEW! I DIDN’T PUSH HIM DOWN THE STAIRS! I DIDN’T LOCK US IN THE BASEMENT! SO HOW THE FUCK CAN THIS BE MY FAULT?!”
Emily stood up and slowly backed away. “Tom, you need to calm down.”
“FUCK YOU!” Tom screamed. “FUCK ALL OF YOU! I LOVE HIM! I FUCKING LOVE HIM!”
A security guard approached from out of nowhere and laid a forceful hand on Tom’s shoulder. “You need to leave the hospital NOW.”
Shrugging away from the man’s hold, Tom glared at him angrily. “Don’t worry, I’m going. I don’t want to spend another minute in this place,” and turning away, he exited the hospital with all thoughts of bowling now forgotten.
**
After a week of constant care and family presence, Dennis found the silence of being alone both relaxing and disconcerting. He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and thought back over the last few days. When he awoke in hospital to find the right side of his body weak and his mouth drooping, he had felt sheer panic. However, that had been just the beginning of his nightmare. Opening his mouth, he had tried to speak, but his words had come out slow and slurred and he sounded like a drunken old man. His family and the nursing staff had consoled him, telling him that it was early days, he was fit and young and he would fight his way back to full health. But to him, his life was over. He could not imagine himself ever feeling strong again; he was a broken man.
Then there was Tom. He had asked his parents repeatedly to contact him but they had averted their eyes and mumbled weak excuses; Tom was busy, Tom did not answer his phone, Tom said he might come and visit tomorrow. It pained him that the man he loved so passionately had deserted him in his hour of need. He could not understand why Tom was avoiding him and the only conclusion he could come to was that he did not want a disabled lover.
As the painful memories once again surfaced in his mind, tears of sorrow and heartache blurred his vision. He had taken a bullet for Hanson and it was only now that he realized how little he meant to him. He was an inconvenience, an embarrassment and he had consequently been discarded like an old shoe. No one from the Jump Street program had been in to visit him and it hurt to think that he was so inconsequential. He knew he was an outsider, he always had been, but he had never imagined that his colleagues hated him. However, that was the only reasoning he could come up with to explain their lack of concern. It was a harsh reality and he vowed to himself that once he was able to, he would quit the force and find another job.
He was tired of being surrounded by people and feeling completely alone. He could be alone all by himself
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On the Wings of Maybe