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Beneath a Heart of Darkness	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 4657 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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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- 29
Two days later
Having endured an hour-long grilling from Fuller about Booker’s disappearance, Tom exited his superior’s office feeling more than a little dispirited. Astute enough to know something had happened at the fraternity, Fuller had badgered him relentlessly about the hazing case, but Tom had remained stubbornly tight-lipped and had revealed only the bare facts, much to his captain’s indignation. But there was a reason behind Tom’s reticence. Without Booker by his side, he had come to acknowledge his rape as his own private hell and not something he could readily share with his friends. It was the source of his social withdrawal during the day, and a nightmare he relived in vivid color when he closed his eyes at night. But he felt he had no choice but to experience his pain alone. To admit to his friends his failure as a police officer and more importantly, as a man, was too mortifying to consider, and therefore, he suffered through Fuller’s verbal reprimand with quiet acceptance. After all, it was what he deserved. He was a pathetic excuse for a cop, and he was seriously considering putting forth his resignation. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it, and he wished Fuller would take the ultimate step and revoke his badge and gun, which would release him from the burden of the job, and thereby circumvent any awkward questions. He no longer felt equipped to deal with the danger associated with being an officer, in fact, he no longer felt equipped to deal with life. But he kept up the pretense as best he could so as to avoid detection. Otherwise, he faced a barrage of questions he could not answer, and he was too tired and disillusioned to face another inquisition. All he wanted to do was erase the last seventeen days of his life from his mind because then, and only then, would he be free from the guilt and humiliation.
With his eyes downcast, he hurried over to his desk and sat down. Surprisingly, Fuller had kept him on active duty and had even assigned him to a drug trafficking case with Penhall. The stakeout was to take place the following evening, which gave him about thirty-five hours to get his shit together. But while he loved working with Penhall, he was concerned his best friend would see through his thinly veiled mask and recognize him for the fraud he was. Tom Hanson the undercover police officer no longer existed, and in his place was a worthless whore masquerading as a cop. Trapped in a lie, all he could do was go through the motions as best he could and hope no one discovered the truth about his deception. However, his heart really wasn’t in it. The very idea of spending time in Doug’s company filled him with a dread that added to his feelings of inadequacy, and once again he felt a strong desire to see the only person he could relate to; Booker.
Suddenly aware of a presence beside him, Tom looked up with a start, a flash of fear sparkling in his eyes. When he saw Penhall, he exhaled heavily and forced a smile to his lips. “Hey, Doug.”
“Hey, yourself,” Doug replied slowly, his gaze carefully studying Tom’s strained expression. “Is everything okay? I heard Fuller chew you out. He’s pretty pissed, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Tom replied quietly, his eyes not quite meeting Penhall’s inquisitive stare.
Not about to let Hanson’s vague response discourage him, Doug pulled up a chair, and straddling it backward, he rested his arms on the wooden back. “So, whatcha doin’ tonight?”
The question caught Tom by surprise, and he found himself tripping over his words. “T-Tonight? I… ah… I don’t… I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Excellent!” Doug exclaimed. “Tonight we party! How ‘bout we double?”
The color instantly drained from Tom’s face, and a look of horror replaced his confusion. “A d-double date?” he stammered. “I-I—”
“Great!” Penhall declared in a loud voice, and hauling his large frame from the chair, he grinned down at Tom. “Leave it to me, what are you in the mood for? A blond? Brunette?”
Panic gripped Tom’s heart, and pushing back his chair, he stood up abruptly. “Doug wait! I… um… I don’t—”
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” Penhall interrupted with a wink, and before Tom could reply, he strode across the room and engaged Harry in conversation.
**
Fourteen hours later
The young woman sitting to Tom’s left threw back her head and laughed loudly, the shrill sound piercing through the young officer’s thoughts. He flinched inwardly, and despite the overwhelming compulsion to scream at her to shut the fuck up, he managed a polite smile. So far, the double date had been a disaster, and he could feel Penhall throwing visual daggers at him, the unwelcome scrutiny causing him to squirm uncomfortably in his chair. He knew he was letting his friend down, but he just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm to engage in the conversation. Dorothy’s friend was pleasant enough, but whenever she touched his arm, panic rendered him mute, and he visibly shied away from the contact. On several occasions, Penhall’s large foot had made contact with his shin, but he had refused to acknowledge the not so subtle signal. He hadn’t asked to come on a double date, and therefore, he felt somewhat justified in expressing his petulance.
As the conversation once again lulled into an awkward silence, Dorothy elbowed Doug sharply in the ribs. The officer immediately took the hint, and standing up, he threw several twenty-dollar bills onto the table. “Well, it’s been fun, but Dorothy and I are gonna hit the road.”
Tom’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re leaving? But you drove us here. How the hell are we supposed to get home?”
Janice’s bright pink lips stretched into a knowing smile, and laying a hand on Tom’s thigh, she squeezed his tense muscles. “I live three blocks away. You can walk me home, and if you want, you can come in for a nightcap.” Her heavily mascaraed lashes battered seductively, the overtly provocative gesture sending a shiver of panic down Tom’s spine. It was an obvious ambush, but if he didn’t want to look like a complete fool, he had no choice but to agree to the proposal.
“Fine,” he muttered, and picking up Penhall’s money, he went to the bar and paid their tab. By the time he returned to their table, Doug and Dorothy had conveniently taken their leave. Resentment burned deep in his soul, but he managed to keep his cool, and sighing heavily, he handed Janice her coat. “Let’s go.”
With an intoxicated giggle, the young woman rose unsteadily to her feet and linking her arm through Tom’s, she snuggled in close, her long, silky hair tickling his cheek. “Take me home,” she murmured against his ear. “I wanna see you naked.”
A shudder of revulsion ran down the entire length of Tom’s body, but his expression remained impassive. All he had to do was stay calm long enough to deliver Janice to her front door, then he was free to make his escape.
They exited the bar and headed east. A light drizzle of rain dampened their clothing, and quickening their pace, they crossed the deserted street, being careful to avoid the iridescent puddles that shimmered with gasoline rainbows. Janice clung heavily to Tom’s arm, the rhythmic click of her stiletto heels echoing in the stillness of the narrow alley. But as they approached the bustling hub of Main Street, the sound of traffic became louder, and Tom could feel his anxiety levels rising. The last thing on his mind was sex, but it was obvious Janice expected to end the evening in a tangle of hot, sweaty limbs, and her apartment building was only two blocks away. The memory of his rape was a raw, gaping wound, and he felt unqualified to cope with a drunk, horny woman he had only just met. His assault had left him feeling emasculated, and he had not had an erection since the attack. Not that he spent his time trying; the thought of sex terrified him, and he was more than happy to put the whole concept of copulation out of his mind forever. However, while achieving a hard-on was an impossible dream, he could not control the weird sensation of butterflies fluttering in his stomach whenever he thought about Booker. The arousal was akin to his preteen infatuations; innocent and pure, yet tinged with a desire he did not fully understand. And in a sense, he was infatuated with the dark-haired officer, the problem was, he had no idea why.
With his mind firmly focused on Dennis, Tom stumbled slightly when Janice abruptly stopped outside a neoclassical beaux arts building. Before he had time to react, she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, and nuzzling her moist lips into his neck, she gently nipped the taut skin. “Are you coming up for dessert, baby?” she whispered, her hands squeezing his firm buttocks. “I’m thinking whipped cream and chocolate syrup.”
There was no mistaking the sexual undertone concealed within Janice’s seemingly innocent proposal, and Tom’s body stiffened before he jerked free from her grasp. “I don’t think so.”
Janice’s playful expression turned into one of scorn. “I knew you were too pretty to be straight,” she sneered. “I guess it’s Doug you’d rather sleep with, am I right?”
The ever-present shame Tom had managed to keep hidden suddenly engulfed him, and unwanted tears seeped from beneath his lids, the salty droplets clinging to his dark lashes. Embarrassed by the unbidden surge of grief, he quickly wiped a hand over his eyes, but not before Janice noticed. “Geez, you really are a fag,” she remarked rudely, and spinning around, she climbed unsteadily up the concrete steps and disappeared through the door of her building.
Crushed by the unfairness of Janice’s stereotypical observation, a steady trickle of tears flowed freely down Tom's cheeks. His heart physically ached from the pain he fought so hard to disguise, and clinging to the tattered shreds of his manhood, he hunched his shoulders against the rain and headed toward home.
**
The following evening
Tom lowered his binoculars and tilting his head from side to side, he stretched out his aching neck muscles. With Doug sitting next to him, he had spent five hours staring out of the window of the tiny, cramped storeroom of a clothing store, and during that time, neither officer had witnessed any illicit activity from within the derelict building across the road. As the hours ticked by, Tom began to think the whole case was a bust, and his mind started to wander. While he usually enjoyed being on a stakeout with Doug, this time, he was finding the experience excruciatingly awkward. It did not take a genius to figure out his friend was annoyed, and he could only guess what Janice had told Dorothy about their brief moment of intimacy. Doug’s on-again, off-again girlfriend was a hot-blooded New Yorker, and her acerbic—and often unwarranted—verbal attacks directed at the man she professed to love were a legendary source of amusement amongst the Jump Street officers. But this time, Tom found nothing funny about the situation, and he could well imagine the fiery, oral punishment his friend had endured for daring to hook Janice up with a queer.
With the unspoken animosity hanging heavily in the room, Tom felt the overwhelming need to escape, and pushing back his chair, he stood up. “Bathroom break,” he muttered by way of explanation.
Doug turned around, but before Tom could take flight, he grabbed him by the wrist, his left brow rising in question. “So, what happened last night? I thought you wanted to get laid.”
The memory of tight metal cuffs binding his wrists sent a jolt of panic through Tom’s body. His chest constricted, making it difficult for him to breathe, and pulling free from Penhall’s hold, he tucked his trembling hands under his armpits. “She wasn’t my type,” he answered a little too quickly.
Penhall stayed silent for several seconds before the need to blurt out what was foremost on his mind finally got the better of him. “She said you started crying.”
Heat flamed Tom’s cheeks, and he shuffled uncomfortably. “That’s bullshit,” he mumbled, his eyes refusing to meet his friend’s inquisitive stare. “She’s a fucking liar.”
“Is she?” Penhall asked softly.
The genuine concern inflected in his friend’s voice completely caught Tom off guard, and he could feel himself losing control. Choking back a sob, he turned and stumbled toward the door, but before he made it halfway across the room, two muscular arms wrapped him in a tight embrace. He immediately struggled against the unexpected contact, but Penhall held him firm, and eventually he gave up the fight. With a sob, he collapsed against his friend’s broad chest and allowed all his pent up pain and torment to flow through his tears.
Shocked by the level of Tom’s distress, a rush of clumsy platitudes tumbled from Penhall’s lips. “It's okay,” he murmured into Tom’s sweet-smelling hair. “Whatever’s wrong, it’ll be okay. Let it out, man, just let it out.”
But Tom knew it would never be okay, and as hot tears spilled from his tortured eyes, he could not dispel the thoughts of suicide that were beginning to infect his mind.
- 27
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- 29
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Beneath a Heart of Darkness