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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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Several hours passed in silence as Tom slept peacefully. Booker heard the clatter of the meal trolley coming down the corridor and he watched as a young man walked in carrying a tray. Setting it down on the table at the end of Hanson’s bed, the man nodded and left. Booker stood up and surveyed the food. There was a large bowl of hot sopa de verduras and a plate containing a Panes Rellenos. Walking over to the door, he found the light switch and switched it on. The hum of the fluorescent lighting broke the silence and bright light flooded the small room, causing Tom to moan as his eyes flickered open. Booker pulled the table to the middle of the bed and smiled down at Hanson. “Hungry?” he asked.
Tom stared back vacantly. Dennis motioned to the food and Tom immediately nodded his head. “Quiero,” he muttered softly, struggling to sit up but unable to do so because of the restraints.
Booker laid a calming hand on Tom’s arm. “Wait,’ he instructed, as he figured out how to raise the top half of the bed so Tom could sit upright. Finding the crank, Dennis raised Tom to a sitting position. When he had the bed in place, he moved the table closer to Tom. “I can’t untie you Tom,” he murmured when he saw Tom twisting his wrists in an attempt to get free. “You’re going to have to let me feed you.”
Making no sign that he understood, Tom continued to try to break free. Realizing that he was strapped tight, his expression became extremely stressed and he started to yell, “NO! NO! NO!”
Remembering that he had calmed Tom through touch, Booker began to stroke Tom’s hair as his head thrashed from side to side. “Shh,” he soothed. “It’s okay Tommy, it’s okay.”
Slowly, Tom stopped yelling and he turned an adoring gaze towards Dennis. “Quiero,” he whispered, nodding at the food.
Using one hand to stroke Tom’s hair, Booker used the other to spoon the hot soup carefully into Tom’s eager mouth. “Hombre simpático,” Hanson muttered between spoonfuls. Nice man.
When the soup bowl was empty, Booker picked up the torta but Tom shook his head, indicating that he did not want it. Suddenly realizing how hungry he was, Booker took a bite and within minutes, he had eaten the whole sandwich. Looking back at Tom, he saw two sleepy eyes staring at him contentedly. Sitting back down on the hard plastic chair, Dennis could not help but smile. “Better?” he asked softly.
“Tócame,” Tom murmured, wanting Booker to touch him. Not understanding the word but connecting it to when he had been stroking Tom’s hair, Booker immediately began to caress the top of Tom’s head. Sighing happily, Hanson closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
**
It was almost 11pm when Booker finally left the hospital. By the time he arrived at La Casa Hotel, he felt emotionally and physically drained. Tossing his bag onto the double bed, he threw open the wide windows in an attempt to cool the stuffy room. The chirping of thousands of cicadas sounded out over the still night air and he stood motionless for several minutes listening to the cacophony of noise. Kicking off his boots, he stripped out of his sweaty clothes and walked into the bathroom. He turned on the cold faucet and entered the cubicle, sighing contentedly as the cool water washed over his aching body. Emerging several minutes later, he collapsed naked on top of the bed. Looking at the clock, he calculated that it was too late to phone Penhall and fill him in on Tom’s condition. When he had finally made contact with Doug after receiving Ben’s fax, Booker had found him subdued rather than excited as he had expected. Dennis knew that guilt weighed heavily on Penhall’s mind but he had expected the officer to show some level of emotion at the news of Tom’s discovery. Dennis wondered how much information he should divulge to Doug about Tom’s condition. After thinking about it for over an hour, he concluded that it would be better for all concerned not to reveal too much about Hanson’s mental state. Part of his reasoning was to protect Tom, he did not want everyone knowing about the rapes and how Tom now found comfort by being overtly sexual. If Hanson was ever to recover fully, Booker knew his current behavior would cause him immense embarrassment. The other reason not to disclose the full extent of Tom’s condition was to keep Doug’s guilt to a bare minimum, at least until Booker could fully assess how Hanson was recovering. Dennis did not see any need to worry Penhall unnecessarily if Tom’s mental breakdown was only temporary.
Now that he had managed to get things clear in his mind, Booker finally began to relax. Closing his eyes, he allowed the piercing song of the cicadas to lull him to sleep.
**
The oppressive heat woke Dennis from a fitful slumber. Staring at the clock, he moaned when he saw that it was only 4am. He tried to fall back to sleep but after half an hour of tossing and turning, he resigned himself to an early start and climbed out of bed. Walking into the bathroom, he relieved his bladder before turning on the shower. Stepping under the tepid water, Booker’s thoughts turned to Tom and he allowed his hand to travel down to his cock. He pushed the guilt aside and slowly started to fondle himself, enjoying the pleasure of his growing erection. As he imagined Tom’s fingers wrapped around him, he let out a loud groan and began to tug harder. A vision of Tom’s full lips sucking at his cockhead pushed Booker over the edge and with a cry, he ejaculated over his fingers. His hand slowed as he enjoyed the aftermath of his orgasm. Taking his time, he then lathered his body and washed his hair, finally stepping out of the shower twenty-five minutes later. Rubbing himself dry, he walked naked into the bedroom and pulled out a clean t-shirt from his bag. Dressing in the shirt and jeans, he pulled on socks and his boots and exited the room.
Walking out into the humid morning air, Booker could smell the light fragrance of the Flor de Izote. Looking around him, he noticed that El Volcán Café was open for business, so he crossed the road and entered the quaint establishment. Ordering a cup of sweet coffee, he sat outside and watched as Ahuachapán slowly came to life. Feeling hungry, he ordered a quesadilla, a second cup of coffee and a bottle of water. He took his time eating, as it was still too early to visit Tom. After paying the bill, he went back to his room and spoke to the hotel manager about placing a call to the States. Using the telephone in the hotel’s office, he dialed Penhall’s number. Listening to the soft burr of the phone ringing, Dennis gathered his thoughts. A minute passed and he was just about to hang up when Doug’s flustered voice sounded down the line. “Penhall!”
“Hey Doug, it’s Booker,” Dennis replied, trying to keep his voice light.
“Dennis, um… look I’m just about to drop Clavo off and I’m running late so…“ Doug’s voice trailed off when he realized how lame his excuse sounded. “Sorry, that was stupid. Of course I’ve got time to talk. How was the trip?”
Booker was surprised that Penhall’s first question was not about Tom’s welfare. Sighing heavily, he kept his temper in check. “The trip was fine Penhall. Look, I don’t have much time either, I’m using the hotel phone. I just thought you’d want to know that I saw Tommy yesterday.”
A long silence followed Dennis’ statement and for a moment, he thought the call had been disconnected. As he was about to speak, Doug’s voice whispered down the line. “Is he okay?”
Booker thought for a moment before answering carefully. “He’s… fragile and disorientated but considering everything he’s been through, the hospital says he’s in pretty good health.”
“Oh thank God,” Doug breathed, the relief evident in his voice. “So, when are you bringing him home?”
Feeling guilty at the level of deception he was perpetrating, Booker was glad that Doug could not see his sheepish expression. “I dunno, it’ll take some time to get his papers. Maybe a week.”
“Okay. Well, keep me posted,” Penhall replied before putting his hand over the mouthpiece and shouting something to Clavo. “Look, I’ve gotta go. I’ll speak to you soon.”
“Yeah,” Booker replied quietly. “I’ll speak to you soon.” Hanging up the phone, he paid the hotel manager enough to cover the cost of the call. He felt disappointed at Doug’s lack of questioning about Tom’s condition, even though it made lying that much easier. Raking his fingers through his dark hair, he walked up the stairs to his room. Checking the clock, he decided to go to the hospital even if he had to wait to see Tom. He grabbed his travel bag and picking up his car keys, he walked back down the stairs and out into the warm morning sun. Climbing into the battered Toyota, he drove the short distance to see Tom.
**
Arriving at the hospital, Dennis found the nurses’ station vacant. Deciding not to wait for permission, he entered Tom’s room. Walking over to the window, he drew back the curtains and turned to greet Tom. He emitted a loud cry when he saw the lower half of Hanson’s face covered in blood. Running over, he let out an audible sigh of relief when he realized Tom had a blood nose. Seeing the distress in his new friend’s eyes, he gently stroked Tom’s hair. “It’s okay Tommy, you’ve had a blood nose. I’m going to clean you up.”
Tom’s pathetic whimper caused a physical pain in Booker’s heart. He could see Tom’s hands clenching and unclenching, trying to break free of the restraints and then a strong smell of urine assaulted Dennis’ nostrils as Hanson wet the bed. “Oh Jesus,” Booker murmured, unable to keep the pity out of his voice. Tears trickled down Tom’s face and he turned his head away. Not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable, Dennis gently tilted Tom's face back towards him. “Don’t worry,” he reassured quietly. “I’ll sort it out.”
Walking back into the hallway, Booker found an English speaking nurse and angrily told her what had happened. Apologizing profusely, she found a towel and some soap and after showing Dennis where Tom could take a shower, she returned with Dennis to Tom’s room and unhooked him from the heart monitor and removed the cannula in his arm. When she had left, Booker hesitated for a moment before unfastening the straps around Hanson’s ankles. He took in a deep breath when he saw the angry red marks encircling the bottom of Tom’s legs. Moving up the bed, he stared down at Tom’s passive face. “Are you going to be good for me Tommy?” he asked softly. “No touching, okay?”
Hanson stared back but showed no sign that he understood Booker’s request. Deciding to take it slow, Booker unstrapped the leather binding on Tom’s left wrist and waited to see what happened. When Tom remained immobile, he unbuckled the second strap. Hanson’s fingers picked at his sodden hospital gown but he did not attempt to touch himself in a sexual way. Sighing with relief, Dennis helped Tom from the bed and escorted him down the corridor to the shower room. Closing the door, he turned on the faucets and helped Tom out of the wet material. “In you go,” he coaxed, nodding his head towards the cubicle. “You’ll feel better after a shower.”
Tom remained where his was, his eyes filled with confusion. Booker gently took hold of Tom’s arm and steered him towards the shower. Hanson hesitated for a moment before stepping into the small cubicle. He let out a gasp as the warm water washed over his filthy body and lifting his head, he allowed the water to wash the blood from his face. Booker tried to pass him the soap but Tom ignored him, instead he closed his eyes and his hand grasped hold of his cock. Dennis immediately looked away as Hanson began to masturbate under the warm water. Although uncomfortable at being so close whilst Tom found his pleasure, Booker made the unorthodox decision to let Tom continue, in the hope that when he found his release he would be less obsessed with touching himself. He tried to ignore the soft grunts coming from the shower and he shifted uncomfortably as his own cock began to swell. As Tom neared his climax, he became vocal. “Me gusta! Me gusta! Oh sí… sí… sí! Oh! Oh! Ohhh!” Hearing Hanson’s cry of pleasure sent a pleasant tingle down Booker’s spine.
Pushing away all inappropriate thoughts, Dennis turned back around and saw that Tom was panting heavily. Sensing that Booker was looking at him, Tom twisted his head and gave the ex cop a smile. Dennis felt his heart melt and for a fleeting moment, he saw a glimmer of the old Tom Hanson. Handing over the soap, he mimicked washing himself. A glint of understanding flashed in Tom’s eyes and he began to lather up his body. Booker sighed with relief. He was not sure he could have coped if he had needed to wash Tom. His aching erection pushed against the tight denim of his jeans and he longed to take himself in hand. Shaking his head, he let mundane thoughts flood his mind in an effort to distract himself of all things sexual. Closing his eyes, he was thinking about his P.I. business when wet fingers suddenly stroked the bulge in his jeans. “Quiero?” Tom asked softly, as Booker jumped backwards.
“Jesus Christ!” Dennis exclaimed, swatting Tom’s hand away. “No! Do you hear me Tommy? NO!”
A soft pout formed on Hanson’s lips and he looked just like a sulky child. Taking a deep breath, Booker calmed himself. “No touching Tommy, okay?” he rebuked softly. “It’s not right.” Tom’s eyes grew wide but he remained silent. Reaching into the cubicle, Dennis turned off the faucets. “C’mon,” he sighed, “Let’s get you dry.”
Hanson stepped out of the shower and allowed Booker to pat him dry. Dennis winced when he saw the damage to Tom’s back and he took extra care when toweling his upper body. Pulling out a pair of his own jeans, a t-shirt and some boxers out of the bag he had brought, he helped Tom to dress. The jeans hung low on Hanson’s hips so Booker removed his belt and used it to pull in the waist of the denims. Apart from his dirty, tangled hair and unshaven face, Tom looked almost like the man Dennis remembered.
Returning to Tom’s hospital room, Booker found clean sheets on the bed and a breakfast tray on the table. He helped Tom onto the gurney and then nodded at the food. “There you go Tom, you can feed yourself this time,” he instructed. Tom paused for a moment, his eyes searching Booker’s face. Puzzled, Booker pushed the table closer. “It’s okay Tommy, it’s your food, you can eat it.”
Another minute passed before Tom took a mouthful, his eyes warily staring at Dennis as though waiting for him to stop him. When Booker remained silent, Hanson started shoveling in the tortillas, huevos picados, frijoles molidos and platanos fritos. Grabbing the mug of coffee, he gulped it down in one go. When he had finished he burped loudly before wiping his mouth on his arm and Booker did not know whether to laugh or cry at Tom’s primordial actions. Lying back on the bed, Tom’s hand once again found his crotch and he began to massage himself through his denims. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Booker contemplated what to do. Finally, he gently pulled Tom’s hand away. “No,” he instructed softly. “Do you understand? No.”
Tom smiled but as soon as Dennis let go of his arm he immediately started to touch himself again. Not wanting to upset Tom too much, Booker decided not to make a scene. He pushed the table to the end of the bed and making a supreme effort to look into Tom’s eyes rather than at the hand that had now found its way inside his jeans, Dennis managed a strained smile. “I’m gonna find a nurse and see when I can take you home. Okay?”
Tom’s eyes gazed back dreamily. Sighing, Booker left the room.
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Over the Hills and Far Away