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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
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Tom sat on the couch with his chin resting on his drawn up knees and his arms wrapped protectively around his legs. Dennis thought he looked small and vulnerable but he resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on his lover’s knee. He did not want to distract Tom who was slowly explaining how the government soldiers had kidnapped Penhall and himself whilst they were trying to get to the farm cooperative of El Triunfo.
“—so we were thrown in a cell together and at first we thought it was okay, you know… they’d look at our IDs and let us go but…” Tom’s voice drifted off and he hugged his legs a little tighter before continuing in a voice barely above a whisper. “They started to torture us in separate rooms. I could hear Doug screaming and it terrified me ‘cause you know, Doug’s a big strong guy and if they were hurting him, I knew they could hurt me even more.”
Dennis remained silent but he gave Tom an encouraging look, urging him to continue.
“I don’t know how many days we were there but they kept dragging me out of the cell and beating me and holding me underwater. I thought I was going to drown and at that time I thought that it couldn’t possibly get any worse but then… then five of them left the compound and took me with them into the jungle.” Tom paused again but he kept his eyes lowered, refusing to meet Booker’s gaze. “We walked for miles, I had no shoes and my feet hurt like hell and I think I had a couple of bruised ribs ‘cause it hurt to breathe. It was so fucking hot, I was thirsty and hungry and I had no idea what had happened to Doug. I couldn’t understand why they had taken me. I mean, if they wanted me dead they could have put a bullet in my head, right? I was so fucking naïve, I had no idea what they had planned for me. If I’d known, I probably would have let myself drown in that tub.”
“Tom—“ Dennis started, but before he could tell Hanson that he did not have to talk about it anymore, Tom cut him off.
“Don’t say anything Dennis, not yet. Wait until I’ve finished, okay?” Booker nodded and taking a deep breath, Tom continued. “So after about six hours we stop. They throw me on the ground and tie my ankles together. The bindings around my wrists have made my hands go numb and after awhile I can’t feel my feet either. I’m lying on the ground about fifteen feet away from where the men have started a fire. They cook something in a can but they don’t give me anything to eat or drink. I can see that they're drinking tequila and they start to become rowdy, laughing and singing and I think to myself that if they just pass out, maybe I can crawl over and find a knife and cut myself free. But then they turn and look at me and their mood changes and I know I’m in trouble.”
Tears filled Dennis’ eyes but Tom did not notice as he continued to tell his story in a slow, matter-of-fact manner.
“They stagger over and one of the men pulls me to my feet by my hair. Another man squats down and unties the bindings around my ankles but my feet are numb and I can’t stand up on my own, so the first man holds me up, whilst the others laugh like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever seen. Then…” Tom’s voice becomes softer and he begins to rock his body gently back and forth whilst his arms continue to hug his knees. “Then the man on the ground unzips my jeans and pulls them down along with my boxers and it’s then that I know what they’re going to do. I scream for them to stop but the man throws me face down onto the ground and he kneels down and wrenches my arms up and my shoulder pops and the pain is like a red-hot poker stabbing into me and I scream again but the men just laugh. Then I hear the sound of a zipper pulling down and the man says “Fuck Americano” and he’s on top of me—“
“Stop,” Dennis whispered but Tom ignored him.
“—and I plead with him not to but it’s too late, he’s pushing his cock—“
“Tom please,” Booker begged quietly. “I don’t want—“
“—into me and the pain is unbearable and—“
“STOP!” Dennis yelled, covering his ears with his hands and jumping up from the couch. “I can’t do this! I can’t sit here listening to you talking about this as though you are reading a fucking grocery list. Fucking hell Tom, you were raped!”
Tom stared up at Booker, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “Do you think I don’t know that? I thought you wanted to know what happened to me.”
Raking his fingers through his hair, Dennis started to pace back and forth across the room, his agitation evident in every step. “I do but I don’t want a blow by blow description.”
“Why not?” Tom asked in a flat voice. “Don’t you think you could love me if you knew what really happened to me, is that it?”
“Jesus Christ Tommy, of course not!” Booker cried out in frustration.
“Really?” Tom asked quietly as he slowly got to his feet and stood in front of Dennis. “Let’s test that theory. How would you feel about me if I told you I could have escaped dozens of times during the two years I was held captive.”
Dennis’ eyes widened in shock. “W-what?” he stammered. “I don’t understand.”
Tom stared back unemotionally. “I stayed because I wanted to stay. Not at the beginning of course but after maybe seven or eight months, they became my family. Even though they’d still beat me and I had to wear a dog collar around my neck, I wanted to stay with them and I wanted to have sex with them. Sex made me feel good, made me feel loved. It was all I had left, I’d lost everything else.”
“No,” Dennis whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t believe you.”
A slow, sad smile played over Tom’s lips. “And there it is… the look. I knew you’d feel differently about me when you found out. It’s not quite how you imagined it is it Dennis? I bet you thought poor little Tommy was cowering in a corner, terrified for the whole two years. But it wasn’t like that. Sure, sometimes I was scared to death, especially during a severe beating and those are the memories that plague me at night. But the rapes stopped being rapes when I let them have sex with me, when I liked them having sex with me. It’s no different to when I was on the streets. Yeah, I did it for money so I could buy drugs but I also did it because I liked it.”
“I can’t listen to this,” Dennis muttered as he grabbed up his car keys. “I’m sorry Tom, I just…” Unable to finish his sentence, Booker grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.
Tom felt a pain in his heart, but his expression remained impassive. “I guess the truth hurts,” he murmured at the closed door, before turning away and walking into the bedroom.
**
The bar smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and Dennis subconsciously patted his pockets before remembering that he had given up smoking. Picking up his glass, he drained his third scotch and nodded at the barman, indicating that he wanted another. Picking up his drink, he swirled the ice around in the glass as his mind played over Tom’s words. “But the rapes stopped being rapes when I let them have sex with me, when I liked them having sex with me.”
Hot bile rose in Booker’s throat and he quickly swallowed it down before gulping another mouthful of the single-malt that was his drink of choice. Never could he have imagined that Tom would have accepted his situation as a captive in El Salvador and he definitely never thought that Tom could have enjoyed having sex with his captors. In his mind, Tom had always suffered at the hands of his abusers but now he knew the truth; he could have escaped if he really wanted to. Vaguely in the back of Dennis’ mind, he remembered reading about something called Stockholm syndrome, where hostages formed bonds with their captors. Based on the Freudian theory, it suggested that bonding was the captive’s response to the trauma of becoming a victim and by being able to identify with the abuser the ego is defending itself. When the victim believes the same values as the abuser, they cease being a threat. Booker knew very little about psychology but Tom’s behavior sounded like something straight out of a casebook. He wondered exactly what Tom had revealed to Doctor Landon in the two short therapy sessions he had attended. It seemed unlikely that the doctor would have suggested that Tom reveal what had happened to him if he had known the truth about his time in captivity. Once again, Dennis felt angry at how careless the medical profession had been when treating Tom’s mental health. If Landon had forewarned Booker about Hanson’s experiences in El Salvador, he would never have reacted so badly to Tom’s revelation.
Draining his glass, Booker stood up and exited the bar. He walked the short distance to his car and unlocking the door, he climbed behind the wheel. Starting the engine, he indicated and pulled out into the afternoon traffic. As he drove through the city streets, Tom’s words echoed in his head, “I liked them having sex with me… I liked them having sex with me… I liked them hav…”
The screeching of car tires pulled Dennis back to reality but it was too late, a black sedan crashed into his door, spinning the car around and slamming it into a light post. Dennis’ head smashed against the windshield and he slumped unconscious against the steering wheel, the horn blaring loudly as blood trickled down his face.
**
Standing at the window, Tom looked out at the city lights. Dennis had been gone for six hours and he began to wonder if he intended to stay out all night so he did not have to face what was waiting for him at home. Turning back around, he gazed at the small travel bag on the floor next to him. He had packed all his belongings and placed a call to Gerald Cooper at the men’s shelter to see if he could get a bed for the night. Although he had no idea where he would go after that, he knew he did not belong with Dennis. He had tried so hard to show Booker how much he loved him and he thought they had made real progress over the last few days. But the memory of the appalled look on Dennis’ face when he had confessed his secret convinced him that he was doing the right thing. Booker was too kind and loving to kick him out on the street, even if he wanted to, so it was easier if he made the decision for him. He had hoped that he would be able to at least say goodbye and thank him for everything he had done. But as the hour drew closer to nine o’clock, Tom knew he had to leave before the shelter closed its doors for the night.
Glancing out of the window one last time, Tom picked up his bag and walked out of the door.
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Over the Hills and Far Away