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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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Strong hands gripped at Tom’s shoulders and he awoke screaming in terror. Lashing out, he used all his strength to punch his attacker in the face. He heard a cry of pain and he took his opportunity and quickly scrambled from the bed in an attempt to get away. Suddenly the room was flooded with light and looking up, he saw Penhall standing by the light switch, holding his aching jaw. The tightness around Tom’s chest slowly eased and he felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment. Standing up, he walked over to Doug and tried to smile. “Sorry,” he muttered uncomfortably. “I probably should have told you that I have nightmares.”
Moving his jaw from side to side, Doug was satisfied that there was no real damage and he managed a small grin. “I heard you screaming and I tried to wake you up,” he confessed. “I guess I’ll poke you with a stick from across the room next time.”
It was a weak joke but Hanson knew he should acknowledge it so he gave a fake smile. “That would probably be safer for both of us.”
Studying Tom’s pale face, Penhall did not pull any punches. “Jesus Tom, you really do look like shit,” he informed his friend bluntly. “How often do these nightmares wake you up?”
Lowering his gaze, Tom rubbed nervously at his top lip. “I dunno,” he mumbled. “Three, maybe four times a night.”
Sitting down on the bed, Doug motioned for Tom to sit next to him. “You need to speak to someone, a therapist maybe, someone who can help you come to terms with… well you know.”
Digging his nails into the palms of his hands, Tom tried to stay calm. Penhall was only trying to help but he made it sound as though a few quick sessions with a psychologist would fix all his problems. “I don’t need a shrink Doug,” he replied quietly. “I need to find Dennis.”
At the mention of Booker’s name, Penhall’s face darkened. He had not forgotten about the tape that the police had found in the adult movie store, the tape of Booker having sex with Tom. Although he had not watched the video, his mind had conjured up images that he could not shake. Over time, he had slowly come to accept the fact that Bentley had forced Booker to do what he had done to Tom but deep down, Penhall knew that Booker had enjoyed it. Dennis had come close to admitting that he had feelings for Tom when they had argued outside of Hanson’s apartment. Booker had made the comment “the reason I’m trying to help Hanson is because I’m concerned about him, not because I want to fuck him,” but Penhall now knew that statement was not completely true. Booker had always wanted Hanson in his life and it now appeared that he might get his wish.
Keeping his voice calm, Penhall asked one simple question, “Why?”
Tom’s eyes widened in disbelief and jumping from the bed, he began to pace around the room, his agitation clear as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Why?” he echoed angrily. “Why the hell do you think? Dennis is the only person who knows exactly what I’ve been through because he lived through the same hell I did! You have no idea what they did to him Doug, what he put himself through to protect me! He was innocent but he chose to go to jail so he could watch over me. Who the hell does that, huh? Who the fucking hell does that?”
Unable to keep quiet any longer, Penhall lost his temper. “Are you blind?” he yelled angrily. “He did it because he’s in love with you! He did it because he wants to fuck you!”
A pink hue tinged Tom’s cheeks but he stared unwaveringly at the man who not so long ago, he considered his best friend. “He’s already fucked me,” he replied quietly. “And we’ve shared experiences, sexual experiences, so I guess if you can’t accept that, I’d better find somewhere else to live.”
The color drained from Doug’s face and he stared openmouthed at his friend. “You and Booker are in a relationship?” he cried out in disbelief. “But Tom, you’re not gay!”
A sad smile played over Tom’s lips. “I knew you wouldn’t understand,” he muttered in disappointment. “It’s not about being gay or straight, it’s about two people, me and Dennis. I don’t feel anything for other men but I do feel something for Booker. I can’t explain it, he’s… different.”
“DIFFERENT?” Doug yelled and standing up, he stood in front of Tom so that their faces were just inches apart. “He’s a fucking predator! What he did to you is no different to what Bentley and those men did! He’s a rapist! A fucking rap—”
Throwing back his arm, Tom punched Penhall square on the jaw. The larger man stumbled backwards but the strike was not forceful enough to knock him to the ground. Charging forward, he grabbed hold of Tom and threw him onto the bed. Straddling Tom’s legs, he forced his arms up above his head and pinned them to the mattress. “Calm down!” he yelled, as Tom struggled beneath him.
Panic constricted Tom’s chest and he fought to break free. Flashbacks of callused hands holding him down whilst he was raped flashed into his mind and he completely lost control. “DON’T HURT ME!” he screamed hysterically as he thrashed his head violently from side to side. “OH GOD, NO! DON’T RAPE ME! DON’T RAPE ME!”
Tom’s words were so shocking to Doug that he quickly released his grasp and scrambled from the bed. He stood staring down in horror as Tom’s body trembled uncontrollably and he struggled to catch his breath. His brown eyes bulged in terror and he appeared to be hallucinating. “Please don’t… please don’t… please don’t,” he sobbed repeatedly whilst staring at some invisible apparition in front of him.
“Shit!” Doug exclaimed in alarm and grabbing up the phone, he dialed 911. “I need an ambulance!” he yelled. It was obvious that Tom had suffered a breakdown and that he was in need of professional help. After giving his address, Doug slammed down the phone and stood looking down at his friend. Tom had curled into the fetal position but he was still muttering the same words over and over to his unseen attacker. Too frightened to make contact, Penhall sat on the end of the bed and waited for the paramedics.
**
Hearing noises, Tom struggled to open his eyes. Sitting up, he stared groggily around the small cubicle and he quickly realized that he was in hospital. He had no recollection of how he had ended up there, his last memory was of arguing with Doug and then everything went blank. Running a trembling hand through his hair, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand up. The room swam in front of his eyes and he collapsed to the floor. Moments later, strong arms helped him to his feet. “What do you think you’re doing?” a female voice asked sternly. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Once back on the bed, Tom lay down and gazed up into the bright blue eyes of a middle-aged nurse. Her harsh expression softened when she saw tears filling his eyes. “It’s okay sweetheart,” she murmured whilst tucking the blanket around his trembling body. “You’ve had a breakdown, that’s all. You’ll be right as rain soon enough.”
Memories of the previous night slowly filtered back into Tom’s mind. The argument… him striking Doug… Doug pushing him onto the bed… the feeling of another body on top of him… the fear that he was about to be raped… the sound of screaming… Closing his eyes, he sank back against the pillow and started to sob. A gentle hand stroked his hair and for the first time in months, he felt the comforting touch of another human being. The only contact he had experienced in over a year had been rooted in violence and domination. To experience the soothing caress of another’s hand was almost too much to bear and tears streamed down his cheeks. He felt the mattress depress and strong, reassuring arms pulled him into a tight embrace. “Shh honey,” the nurse crooned softly as she held him to her breast. “We’re going to get you the help you need.”
Lifting his tear stained face, Tom choked back a sob. “My friend, is he okay?” he asked in a worried voice.
The nurse smiled. “He’s pacing the hallway outside,” she replied. “Would you like to see him?”
Wiping the tears from his eyes, Tom nodded. The nurse stood up and disappeared out of the curtain that surrounded his bed. Minutes passed before a hand pulled back the screen and Doug entered the small cubicle.
Seeing the concern in Doug’s eyes, Tom managed a weak smile. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but emotion quickly overwhelmed him and covering his face in his hands, he began to weep.
Tears filled Doug’s eyes and sitting down on the bed, he pulled Tom to his chest and held him close. “No I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I should have been a better friend. I admit it, I don’t understand this thing with you and Booker but if he makes you happy, then I’m happy. So, starting tomorrow, I’ll see what I can find out about him. All I know is that the department sacked him after he failed to return to work.”
Tom gazed at Doug in disbelief. “You’d really do that?” he asked quietly.
Blinking back his tears, Doug gave Tom his trademark lopsided smile. “Hey pal, what are friends for?” he replied in a silly voice.
For the first time in months, Tom returned a genuine smile. “Thanks Doug,” he whispered. “It really means a lot.”
“No problem,” Doug replied but deep down, he wondered if finding Booker was the best thing for Tom’s mental health.
**
Tom spent three days in hospital under the care of the resident psychologist Doctor Richard Farmer. Although reluctant to open up about what had happened to him, Tom respected the man’s approach. He was calm and patient and he gave his full support when Tom mentioned his desire to find Booker. It was that fact alone that had Tom agreeing to continue with the therapy outside of the hospital. It was not easy for him to discuss his feelings with anyone and especially not a stranger. However, he felt comfortable with Doctor Farmer and he was certain that given time, he would be able to speak openly about all the horrors he had experienced.
Arriving back at Penhall’s apartment, Tom sat on the couch and chewed nervously at his bitten down nails. He was desperate for information about Booker but he was too afraid to ask. His leg jiggled impatiently as Doug walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of beers. When his friend returned and handed him an open bottle, Tom smiled his thanks but inside, his mind was screaming. He needed information on Booker and he needed it now.
Sitting down, Doug held up his beer. “To friendship,” he saluted and leaning forward he clinked his bottle against Tom’s.
“To friendship,” Tom repeated softly before taking a long swig of the cool, amber fluid. When Doug did not speak again, he noisily cleared his throat.
Sensing Hanson’s agitation, Penhall placed his beer on the coffee table and turned towards his friend. “I’ve got some news,” he stated quietly.
Tom had been waiting for this moment for twelve long months. It felt like an eternity since he had seen his friend and now that he was finally about receive the information he had been longing to hear, he suddenly felt nervous. Chewing on his lower lip, he gave Doug an impatient look. “Well?” he asked eagerly. “Where is he?”
Doug glanced at Tom and gave him an uneasy smile. “You’re never going to believe it,” he replied quietly. “According to my sources, he’s living in Nevada and um, well… he’s working as a correctional officer.”
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Ask Me No Questions and I'll Tell You No Lies