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Ask Me No Questions and I'll Tell You No Lies	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 2448 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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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Adam Fuller sat at his desk with his head resting in his hands. He had never felt so old, so bone weary as he did at that precise moment. Only minutes before he had spoken to the detective in charge of Bentley’s murder case and the information he had received had stunned him so completely that he had remained speechless throughout most of the conversation. Now he had the unenviable task of informing Penhall about the latest evidence that had been uncovered. He supposed that the police had notified Tom and Dennis’ lawyers of the discovery and the findings would certainly help the young officer’s defense. However, Fuller was afraid that the knowledge that people now knew the full extent of what had happened inside the warehouse would push both of the young men over the edge. Booker was already spiraling out of control and the last time he had visited Hanson, he had found him nervous and barely coherent.
Pushing back his chair, Fuller stood up and walked over to his open door. Looking out into the crowded main room of the Chapel, he saw Penhall and Ioki arm wrestling. He stood watching them for several minutes, dreading the moment when he would drop the bombshell that would inevitably send Penhall’s world crashing in around him. Hanson was Penhall’s best friend and the officer had barely coped when he witnessed the tapes of Tom’s rape. Now he was about to be told something far more disturbing and given Doug’s relationship with Booker, Fuller knew he would not take the news well.
Unable to delay the act any longer, Fuller slowly walked over to Doug’s desk. “I need to see you in my office Penhall,” he muttered in an unusually quiet voice.
Doug’s face showed the strain of his exertion. “Just a minute Coach,” he puffed as he struggled against Ioki’s hold. “I’m nearly—”
“NOW!” Fuller yelled loudly and Penhall was so surprised at the ferocity of his Captain’s command that he lost concentration and Ioki easily slammed his arm down against the desk.
The Chapel went silent and all eyes turned to Fuller. The Captain wiped his brow and managed a tense smile. “Sorry,” he apologized. “But it’s important.”
Standing up, Penhall silently followed his commanding officer across the room. Once inside his office, Fuller closed the door and motioned for Doug to take a seat. “I have some news from Detective Hoffman,” he muttered in a low voice. “They’ve found another tape.”
The muscles in Penhall’s face tightened as he clenched his teeth together. “Is it of Tommy?” he asked in a strained voice.
Sitting down at his desk, Fuller tried to keep his voice calm. “Yes. It’s a video of Tom and Booker together.”
Doug leapt to his feet. “WHAT?” he shouted in disbelief. “What the hell does that mean?”
Fuller raised his hand and gestured for Doug to sit back down. Penhall remained standing for several seconds before taking his seat. “Tell me,” he demanded through gritted teeth.
Sighing heavily, Fuller leaned across his desk and spoke in a low voice. “The tape shows Tom tied to a bed and Booker having sex with him.”
This time Penhall could not contain his emotions. Jumping from his chair, he picked it up and threw it against the wall. “THAT FUCKING SON-OF-A-BITCH!” he screamed. “I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM!”
Too fatigued to reprimand his young officer, Fuller sat back and waited until Doug had calmed down. He was shocked when Penhall turned towards him and revealed a tear stained face.
“He raped Tommy,” Doug choked before breaking down completely. Leaning against the wall, he covered his face in his hands and sobbed. “How could he do that? After everything Bentley did, how could he do the same thing?”
Standing up, Fuller walked around his desk and placed a comforting arm around Doug’s broad shoulders. “You’ve got it wrong Penhall,” he murmured. “From what I’ve been told, Booker was made to do it. There was probably a gun pointed at them and he had no choice. This isn’t his fault and I don’t think Hanson blames him either so neither should we. We have to look at the positive. We have the tapes of Bentley raping Tom and now we have a tape of Bentley forcing Booker to have sex with him. If this doesn’t prove self defense, I don’t know what will.”
Lifting his teary face, Doug gave his superior officer a hard look. “That’s a lie,” he spat. “Tom would have hated it and the only reason he doesn’t despise Booker is because he’s traumatized over everything that’s happened to him. I don’t care what you say, in my eyes Booker raped Tom and if he ever gets out, he’s going to know pain like he’s never known before and that’s a promise.”
Fuller’s expression hardened. “I won’t have you threatening one of my officers,” he replied in a stern voice. “Is that understood?”
Penhall walked towards the door. “And how exactly are you going to stop me?” he muttered and before Fuller could reply, he walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
**
Lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling, Tom felt as though he was about to be sick. He had just received the news from his lawyer that the police had found the sex tape of he and Booker and that they had entered it into evidence. Now, all the sordid details of his captivity were there for the world to see. He would never be able to look any of his friends and colleagues in the eye again knowing that they knew everything that had happened to him.
His body began to tremble and he wondered exactly who had witnessed the tape of Booker fucking him. Sweat beaded on his brow as he remembered how Booker had brought him to orgasm and stumbling from the bed, he only just managed to reach the toilet before he vomited up his lunch. Leaning over the bowl, he began to sob, unable to dispel the deep feeling of shame that consumed him. Three video tapes would now define his whole life and his friends would never look at him the same way again. However, his feelings of humiliation were not because he and Booker had sex and he had enjoyed it; even though he knew his colleagues would never be able to accept that fact. The embarrassment he felt came from rejection; he had felt himself beginning to fall in love and now Dennis had cast him aside. The man who had stolen his heart, the man who had made love to him so gently, so lovingly, even though they were both under duress, had abandoned him and everyone would know that the incident in the warehouse had meant nothing to Booker but that it had meant everything to him.
Using the wall for support, Tom rose unsteadily to his feet and flushed the toilet. Turning on the hand basin faucet, he rinsed his mouth and cupped cool water over his flushed face. Standing up, he leaned against the basin and stared at his dripping reflection in the mirror. However, the ghostly apparition that stared back with dead, hollow eyes was a stranger to him. Turning away, he shuffled across the room and collapsing onto the bed, he resumed his study of the ceiling as he tried to block out the screaming in his head.
**
Returning to his cell after a visit with his lawyer, Booker pulled out the vial of heroin he kept hidden in his pillow and inhaled deeply. During the last few weeks, he had forgotten about the video recording of him making love to Tom and now all the memories of how he had felt came flooding back. It had not been just fucking to him, he had made love to Tom because that was what he had felt; love. Now, everything had changed. He was no longer the man he had been three weeks ago, he was a hollow shell with nothing left inside, no fear, no empathy and no love. By demoralizing and degrading him, Carlos Martínez had essentially stripped him of everything that made him human and he could no longer feel anything inside unless he was high. Once the effects of the drug wore off, he was once again devoid of emotion. Heroin gave him the feeling of peace and it was then that he sought out Martínez’s affections.
During the last two weeks, he had convinced himself that he was over Tom, that he had completely erased any memories of their sexual encounters from his mind. However, after hearing from his lawyer that the video had been found, the flood gates of his mind had opened and all the feelings and all the emotions he had felt when he had lain in Hanson’s arms came flooding back; he remembered Tom’s fingers tentatively stroking his cock and his warm breath murmuring against his ear, "come for me."
Lying back against his pillow, he unzipped his jeans and began to fondle himself through his boxers. A soft moan escaped his lips as the image of Tom’s face, with eyes closed and lips parted, floated into his mind. Releasing his cock from its confines, he tugged gently and his erection grew under the touch of his own fingers. “Tommy,” he murmured and his pace quickened. His hand jerked frantically up and down his shaft and he began to pant. The vision in his head changed and he saw Tom lying naked on the bed in the warehouse with his wrists tethered above his head.
Biting down hard on his lower lip to stifle his scream, Booker ejaculated forcefully over his fingers. As the shuddering in his body subsided, tears filled his eyes and he choked back a sob. He missed Tom and he wished that he could hold him in his arms and tell him that he loved him and that he was sorry. However, as much as he wanted Hanson back in his life, he knew it would never happen; Martínez had seen to that. Tom would never view him in the same way again after he had given in to the deranged inmate’s commands. He had degraded himself in front of the man he loved and it had destroyed any chance they had of ever being together.
Tucking himself away, he stood up and walked over to the basin. After washing his hands, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror but he did not recognize the pale face staring back at him. It was the face of a monster, a demon that had abandoned Tom to the mercy of Martínez and the result was yet another rape.
Sighing heavily, he walked back to his bed and lay down. When he closed his eyes, he again saw Tom’s face, except this time he was smiling. Rolling onto his side, Booker immediately pushed the image away. He blamed his reminiscences on the heroin, it was making him have feelings for Tom again and that was not a good thing. He needed to quit being over emotional and face the harsh reality. Tom despised him and no matter how many drug-induced fantasies he had, nothing would ever change that.
**
Sitting in his apartment, Penhall poured himself another whiskey and drained half the glass in one long gulp. He was drunk, but not drunk enough to be able to push away the images of Booker writhing on top of Tom whilst his friend screamed for help. As hard as he tried, he could not get the picture out of his mind and his grip increased around the glass in his hand. The words Booker raped Tom… Booker raped Tom… echoed in his head and with a tormented yell, he threw the half-full tumbler at the wall. The glass shattered on impact and the dark liquid stained the paintwork. His body trembled with emotion and burying his face in his hands, he fought back tears. He loved Tom and the thought of him suffering such a degrading act at the hands of Dennis Booker was too much to bear. It was bad enough that Bentley had sexually assaulted Hanson but Booker was supposed to be a trusted colleague, even though he was not a friend.
However, what haunted Doug most was that Tom was concerned about Booker’s welfare. He could not understand how Tom could feel anything but hatred towards Booker after what he had done to him. It was incomprehensible to Penhall and he worried about Tom’s metal state. Only a delusional person could have compassion towards their rapist and Penhall was now convinced that Hanson was suffering from a mental illness.
Standing up he walked into the kitchen and soaked a dishtowel under the faucet before walking back into the living room. He scrubbed at the amber fluid on the wall before carefully picking up the broken pieces of glass and folding them into the towel. Returning to the kitchen, he threw the sodden cloth into the trash and grabbed another glass out of the cabinet. It was still early and he had half a bottle of Jacks left to drink. He hoped that by the time he was through, the alcohol would have obliterated the disturbing images from his mind.
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Ask Me No Questions and I'll Tell You No Lies