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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.

Chapter List
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Please note: I am aware that waking from a coma is not as I have depicted it in this story. Instead of writing how it would happen in "real life", I have instead decided to adopt the "as seen in the movies" approach. Please do not hold it against me, I did it because I didn't want to drag out Booker's recovery. I hope you understand.
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Taken aback by Booker’s words, Tom pulled his hand away and stared back open-mouthed. “Um, I’m Tom,” he replied in a shaky voice.
Booker’s face relaxed slightly and he gave Hanson a weary smile. “Hey Tom, my name’s Dennis… Dennis Booker. Well at least that’s what they’re telling me.”
“You don’t remember?” Tom asked cautiously.
Tears glinted in Booker’s dark eyes. “No,” he replied quietly. “I woke up last night not knowing my name or anything about my life. My mind is completely blank. All I know is what they’re telling me.”
“Shit,” Tom whispered, “I’m really sorry.”
Dennis rubbed at his watery eyes and managed to give Tom a small smile. “Not your problem.” A long silence hung in the air before he spoke again. “So Tom, what happened to your arm?”
As Tom fingered the material of his sling, an idea formed in his mind. If Booker did not know who he was, he could be there to help him through the difficult times until he got his memory back. He told himself it was an innocuous lie, Booker needed a friend and he could be that person without all the past animosities hanging over them. What he did not admit to himself was that he was also doing it to alleviate his sense of guilt. It was much easier to be Dennis’ new friend than have to admit that he was partially responsible for his current situation because he had not been doing his job properly.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he gave Booker a smile. “Baseball injury,” he lied.
Booker gave him a sympathetic look. “Too bad. Will you still be able to play?”
Tom lowered his head in embarrassment at the lie but Booker misinterpreted it as disappointment and regret. Taking hold of Tom’s hand, he gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure you’ll be back on the mound in no time,” he encouraged.
Desperate to change the conversation, Hanson gently extricated his fingers and gave Dennis a quizzical look. “So what exactly have they told you?”
Dennis let out a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. “Apparently I’m a police officer and I was shot in the line of duty. I hit my head and they think that’s why I have amnesia but they’re hoping it’s only temporary.”
“And if it’s not?” Tom asked in a quiet voice.
Booker lowered his gaze and stared despondently at the floor. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I guess I start my life again.”
It was Tom’s turn to offer comfort and leaning forward, he laid his hand on Dennis’ shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he replied in a soothing tone. “I’ve heard about cases like these and they always turn out okay.”
A small smile played over Booker’s lips. “Now you’re just bullshitting me but I appreciate the effort Tommy.” He paused for a moment and gave Hanson a shy look. “Can I call you Tommy?”
Hanson found himself so caught up in the lie that he completely forgot that the only time Booker called him Tommy was to piss him off. “Sure,” he replied with a grin, “Tommy’s fine.”
Booker sighed contentedly and closing his eyes, he relaxed back against his pillow. For the first time since waking up, he did not feel so alone. His commanding officer had been in to see him just hours after he came out of his coma but he had found the situation so overwhelming that he had asked him to leave. As he lay sobbing in the arms of a sympathetic nurse, he had requested that he receive no more visits from his colleagues until he had his memory back. It was too confusing and he did not want to contend with trying to remember who the unfamiliar faces were and how they fitted into his life. The doctor explained to him that his parents and sister were overseas and that he was currently trying to contact them. However, Dennis felt no anguish at not having his family at his bedside, as he could not even picture their faces in his mind. The doctor could have told him he was an orphan and he would not have questioned it. Until his memory returned, he was essentially alone. He had no family, no colleagues and no friends.
That was until now. Now he had Tom.
Feeling movement beside him, he opened his eyes and saw that Tom was now standing by his bed. Tears of fatigue filled his dark eyes and reaching out, he grasped hold of his hand. “Don’t go,” he pleaded in a soft voice. “I could really use a friend right about now.”
Hanson bit down on his lower lip. He was starting to think that he had made a monumental mistake by pretending he did not know Booker but he had already taken the lie too far. He had committed himself, the deception was now firmly established and there was no turning back, even if he wanted to.
Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, he gave Dennis a supportive smile. “I can stay for a little bit longer,” he replied gently, “but I’m seeing my doctor in an hour about getting released tomorrow.”
Booker’s lower lip pushed into a soft pout. “You’re leaving tomorrow?” he asked gloomily.
“Hopefully,” Tom replied cheerfully. However, as he studied Dennis’ dejected expression, he pushed aside his reservations and reaching out, he took hold of his hand. “But if you want, I can come and visit.”
Dennis’ face relaxed and he gave Hanson a relieved smile. “Thanks Tommy, I’d really like that.”
“No problem,” Tom replied but deep down, he knew that in reality, the complications were only just beginning.
**
The following day
Tom sat on the edge of his bed and waited for Penhall to arrive. He was happy that he was leaving hospital but the guilt he felt for Booker’s situation had intensified tenfold. It did not seem fair that he was walking out with an injury that would eventually heal whereas Booker’s future remained shrouded in uncertainty. All he could hope was that he could make Dennis’ life a little happier by being his friend, at least until his memory returned and then he would face the wrath of the man who had always hated him.
When Penhall entered the room, he stood up and grabbed his small overnight bag. “Let’s go,” he instructed quietly.
“Whoa,” Doug replied cheerfully. “Hold your horses Hanson. I know you’re eager to get out of here but I just spoke to your doctor and he’s organizing some pain medication for you to take home, just in case you need it.”
Sitting back down on the bed, Tom’s lips formed into a petulant pout. “They’ve had all day to do that. Why do they leave everything to the last minute?”
Doug grinned in amusement and sat down next to Tom. “Gee Hanson, I guess they forgot how important you are,” he quipped.
Sighing heavily, Tom managed a small smile. “Sorry. I’m just anxious to get out of here.”
Carefully placing an arm around his friend’s shoulders, Doug gave him a gentle hug. “I know you are buddy, but it’ll only be a little while longer and then you’ll be a free man.”
Tom remained silent as he chewed anxiously on his lower lip. He desperately wanted to tell Penhall about how he was deceiving Booker by pretending he did not know him, but he did not know how to start the conversation. However, moments later, Doug gave him an opening. “Now that Booker's awake, Fuller tried to see him again but he doesn’t want any visitors.”
Lowering his eyes, Tom ran a trembling hand through his hair. “Doug, do you think it’s okay to lie to someone if it’s for their benefit?”
Somewhat surprised by the change of conversation, Penhall gave Tom a quizzical look. “That came out of left field,” he replied quietly. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on? Is it something to do with Booker?”
Hanson’s face flushed red. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I kind of did something stupid.”
Penhall narrowed his eyes. “Okay, so you did something stupid, it can’t be that bad.”
Lifting his head, Tom gazed into Doug’s gentle eyes. “It’s not that good either,” he confessed. He paused for a long moment before continuing. “I sort of lied to Booker and let him believe we don't know each other.”
Doug’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Why would you do that?” he asked in bewilderment. “Geez Hanson, he’s suffering from amnesia. Don’t you think by lying to him that you’re just going to confuse him more?”
“I know that!” Tom cried out and getting to his feet, he began to pace up and down the small room. “But that’s not why I did it. I wanted to make it up to him and I knew he wouldn’t let me if he knew who I was. I made a mistake but I can’t take it back, not now… I’m all he’s got.”
“Shit,” Doug murmured softly. “I’ve got to say Hanson, this isn’t the best idea you’ve ever come up with. How do you think he’s going to feel when he realizes who you are?”
Sitting down in a chair, Tom’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I have to tell him,” he stated quietly. “I can’t keep lying to him to ease my own guilt.”
“Are you kidding? Of course you can’t tell him!” Doug exclaimed. “Jesus Hanson, you can’t mess with Booker’s head like that! You have to keep the lie going, otherwise he won’t know what to believe.”
Tom groaned loudly. “I know… I know. Shit! Why did I think this was a good idea? All I’ve done is make everything worse.”
When the doctor walked into the room, Doug stood up and patted Tom on the back. “I can’t disagree with you there Hanson,” he chuckled. “It looks like from now until Booker gets his memory back, you and he are going to be the best of friends.”
**
Dennis lay in his darkened room listening to the sound of the nurses’ conversations as they carried out their nightly routines. He was tired but it was too noisy for him to sleep and he stared absently at the chink of light under his closed door that flickered in random patterns as soft-soled shoes continuously scurried back and forth along the corridor outside. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes and thought about the last twenty-four hours of his life, which were in essence, the first twenty-four hours of his life. He remembered the fear he had felt when he could not remember his name and how he had stared intently at Adam Fuller, willing his mind to remember the man’s face. However, no matter how hard he tried, the man in front of him had remained a stranger and he had become so distressed that the doctor had ushered Fuller from his room as he sobbed out his anguish against the chest of a sympathetic nurse.
At the memory, a single tear trickled down his cheek. He had a mother, father and sister and yet he could not remember a single Christmas, birthday or the day of his graduation. He was an undercover police officer but he could not imagine himself holding a gun. Nothing in his life seemed real and he felt as though he were in a dream. All he knew for certain was that he needed to be careful, every person in the world was a stranger to him and even though he could not think of a reason why anyone would lie to him, he could trust no one.
Except for Tom. Tom was different and he knew in his heart that he could depend on him. As he saw Tom’s face in his mind, it slowly dawned on him that he felt a sexual attraction towards the slender young man and his face flushed red when he realized that he must be gay or at the very least, bisexual. He wondered if he was open about his sexuality with his friends and family and again, he felt an overwhelming sense of isolation. It was then that he made the decision not to disclose his sexuality to his new friend in case the revelation scared him off. He was in desperate need of friendship and Tom was all he had in a world that was strange and unfamiliar to him.
Wiping the stray tears from his face, he closed his eyes and gave himself a silent pep talk. He was not alone, he had Tom and he was more than happy to have the attractive young man in his life.
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On the Wings of Maybe