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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
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Nine weeks later
Soft sunlight filtered in through the large bay window, making the large airy room seem even cheerier. However, despite the relaxing atmosphere, Booker sat hunched in a chair, nervously picking at the skin around his thumbnail. He had spent almost every day during the last nine weeks sitting in the tastefully decorated office talking to Doctor James Mayberry about his feelings, but that did not make the sessions any easier. Although he liked Doctor Mayberry and respected him as a psychiatrist, he was tired of talking about the same things over and over again, Tom’s rape, his rapes, and of course, his unnatural attachment to Conan.
But it was a catch 22 situation because as much as he wished he could just forget the past and move forward, he was terrified of leaving the sanctuary of the hospital’s psychiatric facility. As each day passed it was obvious to him that the time was drawing close, not only because he knew he could not stay there forever but also because Tom had now become a regular part of his counseling sessions and that had meant, also discussing his plans for the future.
At first, he had found having Tom in the room awkward and uncomfortable, especially when discussing the rape he had perpetrated against him. There were no words to express how sorry he was, and so he clammed up and stared morosely at the floor whilst Tom spoke about how he felt. It had surprised him that Tom seemed to have come to terms with what had happened and had even forgiven him. However, the problem was that he could not forgive himself. He had sexually assaulted a man who had shown him nothing but kindness and consideration after his own rapes and it ate him up inside to think that he could have carried out such a vile act. He was a monster and if he was capable of doing it once, who knew if he was capable of doing it again. But he kept his thoughts to himself, unwilling to share the deep seated fear that festered inside him. It was his own private nightmare and he suffered alone with the silent mantra that echoed constantly in his mind: once a rapist, always a rapist.
“Dennis?” Doctor Mayberry prompted gently. “Did you hear what I said?”
Realizing that the doctor had asked him a question, Booker lifted his head. “Huh?”
James Mayberry smiled patiently and repeated his question. “Do you feel ready to go home?”
Booker shifted uncomfortably in his seat and returned his gaze to the floor. “I dunno… I guess so,” he mumbled.
Leaning back in his chair, Mayberry studied Booker’s bowed head. He was pleased with his patient’s progress and he felt it was in his best interest to leave the security of the facility and reenter the world. Having spent countless hours speaking to both Dennis and Tom, he had no reservations about their friendship. It was obvious that Tom had Dennis’ best interests at heart; he had been willing to participate in the counseling sessions and to Mayberry, that was a sign of true dedication. Most shied away from partaking in family and friends counseling because they feared their own idiosyncrasies being exposed and analyzed. But Tom had been direct and open about his feelings towards Booker prior to the rape, how he had coped with the aftermath of the assault and his ability to forgive because he knew his friend had suffered a mental breakdown. When asked during a private session if he feared Dennis raping him again, Tom had shaken his head violently back and forth. “No,” he had stated emphatically, “Dennis never meant to hurt me.”
Then, several weeks later when the topic of Booker’s release came up, Tom had suggested he move in with him. Mayberry however, had been less than enthusiastic about the idea because he believed Tom still felt a strong attraction towards Dennis. But when questioned privately, Tom had categorically denied it, stating that he cared about Booker in the same way he cared about his best friend. Mayberry was not completely convinced, however, he did trust Tom’s sense of decency and he doubted the young man would act on his impulses if he thought it would cause Dennis harm. Therefore, after much deliberation, he had agreed to the proposed living arrangement.
Tenting his fingers under his chin, Mayberry exhaled heavily. “Talk to me Dennis,” he coaxed. “If you’re not ready to leave then you need to tell me why.”
Several seconds passed before Dennis lifted his head and gave the doctor a sheepish look. “I’m scared,” he finally admitted in a soft voice.
“Of what?” Mayberry asked gently.
Dennis ran a trembling hand over his mouth; the time had come to own up to his fears. “Hurting Tom.”
Mayberry’s eyes widened in surprise. When writing up his evaluation report, he had only factored into the equation Tom’s thoughts about a repeat rape, not Dennis’ and he suddenly realized he had been focusing on the wrong man. Tom had no fear that Dennis would rape him again but Dennis feared he would rape Tom. It was the opposite rational of what he had expected and for a moment, he was at a complete loss for words. Never before had he come across a rapist who had actually vocalized his fear of raping again.
Sitting forward in his chair, he laid his palms on the desk and cleared his throat. “Do you imagine hurting Tom?” he asked directly.
Booker’s head shook vigorously back and forth. “No!” he exclaimed insistently and getting to his feet, he began to pace the floral carpeted room. “Of course not! But what if I have another breakdown? What happens if I snap like I did last time and I don’t know what I’m doing? What if—”
Mayberry held up his hand. “Life is full of what ifs Dennis,” he stated calmly, “and we can’t prepare ourselves for all eventualities. Trust me, if I had any fear for Tom’s safety, I wouldn’t agree to you living with him, or anywhere else for that matter. But I don’t, and Tom doesn’t either. He’s forgiven you and you need to learn to forgive yourself.”
Flopping back down on the chair, Dennis buried his face in his hands. “How can I?” he asked in a tortured voice. “I raped him.”
“Yes you did,” Mayberry replied matter-of-factly, “and you’ve lived with the pain and guilt every day since the assault. Now it’s time to start healing; now it’s time to start a new life.”
Booker closed his eyes and envisioned Tom’s face in his mind. A shiver of desire ran down his spine and he bit down on his lower lip in an effort to quell the feeling. His fear of raping Tom was not the only secret he had kept from Doctor Mayberry, he had also not divulged the sexual attraction he had begun to feel for Tom since they had begun therapy sessions together. However, he knew that was one secret he had to keep to himself. Tom may have forgiven him but since the rape, he felt certain that he no longer felt a sexual attraction towards him. How could he? He had assaulted him in the most depraved way possible and only in some twisted Bizarro World could a rape victim fall in love with his rapist…
Except, he had… he had fallen in love with his rapist.
At the sudden realization, he immediately felt sick to his stomach. What if Tom viewed him in the same way he viewed Conan. Was he capable of manipulating Tom in the same way Conan had manipulated him? Could he control Tom and use him for his own sexual gratification? Was he sick enough and depraved enough to treat Tom as his slave and if so, would he feel the desire to do it? The terrifying thoughts went round and round in his mind, confusing his senses until his mind was screaming hysterically, and leaning forward in his chair, he placed his arms over his head and let out a loud tumultuous groan. “I can’t,” he wailed. “I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I CAN’T!”
Mayberry quickly stood up and hurried over to Booker’s chair. Squatting down, he laid a comforting hand on his patient’s shoulder. “Can’t what Dennis?” he asked in a soothing voice. “Can’t start a new life?”
Lifting his tear stained face, Booker clutched desperately at the doctor’s arm, his dark eyes wild with panic. “Please, you have to help me! What if I hurt him? Oh God! I can’t! Not again! Please help me! PLEASE! Help me! HELP ME!”
Gazing into the distraught face in front of him, Doctor Mayberry came to the sad conclusion that despite his earlier beliefs, Dennis was not yet well enough to be released.
**
Eighteen days later
Slamming his Mustang’s door closed, Tom walked along the gravel driveway and entered the psychiatric wing of St. Mary’s hospital. He had scheduled a social visit with Dennis and he hoped that in a more relaxed environment, he would be able to find out why his friend feared hurting him again. Over the last few weeks, he had attended almost daily therapy sessions but during the hourly appointments, Dennis had remained stubbornly silent, refusing to divulge the reasons for his fears. Instead, he continuously stated that he was still mentally unwell and not ready to leave the facility.
After clearing security, Tom walked down the long corridor and into the visitors’ room. He immediately spotted Dennis sitting on the broad window ledge, staring out at the grounds below and he approached with some trepidation. Over the last week, he had felt as though Dennis was distancing himself from him, withdrawing back into the protective shell that he had initially used to shield himself from his surroundings when he had first entered the psychiatric wing. Doctor Mayberry had classed it as a temporary setback and it was then that he had suggested a social visit, in the hopes that Dennis would open up to him about his feelings.
Stopping next to the window, he took a seat on the ledge next to Dennis. “Hey,” he greeted softly.
Dennis’ eyes remained fixed on the lawn below. “Hey,” he replied gloomily.
Tom took a deep, calming breath and standing up; he placed a light hand on Dennis’ shoulder. “Let’s take a walk.”
“Where?” Dennis asked in a flat voice. “I’m not allowed to go anywhere.”
Tom smiled encouragingly. “Doctor Mayberry’s given us permission to go outside. I thought maybe you’d like to get some fresh air.”
“Oh,” Dennis replied impassively. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
Sighing heavily Tom lowered his hand. “This isn’t about me Dennis, I want to do what you want. Can’t you at least try to communicate with me, tell me what you’re feeling? I want to help you but I can’t do that unless you let me in.”
Booker turned his head and gazed at Tom with terrified eyes. “If I let you in, I might hurt you,” he whispered.
Sensing an opportunity, Tom sat back down and laid a hand on Dennis’ knee. “What makes you think you’re going to hurt me?”
Booker’s breathing became labored and closing his eyes, he clenched his fists into tight balls. “Because I’m just like him,” he replied through gritted teeth.
Tom’s brow knitted together in confusion. “Like who?” he asked in a puzzled tone.
A deep sigh of frustration escaped Dennis’ lips. “Him! Conan! Don’t you get it? He made me who I am today and that means I’m going to do the same things to you that he did to me!”
Tom’s eyes grew wide with shock. “What?” he exclaimed in surprise. “You’re nothing like that sick, depraved psycho! Jesus Christ Dennis, why would you say that?”
Tears spilled from Dennis’ eyes and trickled down his pale cheeks. “Because I raped you,” he sobbed, “and I can’t stop thinking about it, and I’m scared to death I’ll do it again!”
At Booker’s revelation, Tom wiped a trembling hand over his mouth and stared back at Booker with wide-eyed disbelief. “Do you fantasize about raping me?” he asked in a shaky voice. "Is that what you're telling me?"
“No!” Booker cried out. “Of course not! But I fantasize about…” His voice trailed off and he stared down at the floor. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered morosely, “none of it matters because now that you know what I’m thinking, you hate me.”
“I don’t hate y—” Tom began before stopping and giving Booker a quizzical look, “wait, fantasize about what?”
Booker’s cheeks flushed red. "Nothing,” he muttered, “it’s not important.”
Tom chewed anxiously on his lower lip for several moments before speaking in a soft voice. “I’m not scared that you’ll rape me again and you shouldn’t be either. You’re not Maurice Keppler… you’ll never be Maurice Keppler, and do you know why? Because he was a psychopath and you’re not. You’re a victim of another man’s deranged mind, that’s all. I want you to live with me Dennis but if it’ll make you feel more comfortable living somewhere else, then I understand. Just promise me you won’t continue to carry the guilt inside for something that wasn’t your fault.”
Peering up through his long lashes, Dennis stared at Tom in surprise. “Do you really mean that?” he asked in a whisper.
“Yeah, I really do,” Tom murmured. “So, how 'bout we talk to Doctor Mayberry about your fears and he can tell us what we need to do to deal with it.”
Dennis raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Us?” he asked softly.
Tom’s lips twitched into a smile. "Yeah, us.”
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To Chase a Feather in the Wind