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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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Booker’s wild, panicked eyes slowly regained their composure, but when he saw the startled expression on Tom’s face, they once again filled with frightened tears. “Wh-what the fuck is wrong with me?” he whispered, his bottom lip wobbling uncontrollably.
It was one of those moments where Tom knew his actions would speak far louder than any comforting words, and without hesitation, he stepped forward and gently placed his hands on either side of his lover’s face. Their eyes locked, and for the briefest of moments, he could see Booker’s soul reflecting through his pain-flecked irises, the depth of his despair shimmering in the desolate black pools. It was a powerfully moving experience and overcome with empathy, he brushed his lips over the dark-haired officer’s quivering mouth, tenderly silencing his fears with the soft caress. Never before had he felt such an overwhelming urge to nurture another human being, the intensity of the emotion rekindling his love for the man standing before him. There was now no doubt in his mind Booker was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and with the knowledge came a sense of peace; he had found his twin flame, and he would do everything in his power to protect him.
Startled by the unexpected contact, Booker pulled back, a flicker of surprise widening his eyes. “Tommy—”
“Shhh,” Tom whispered, his thumb lightly stroking Booker’s flushed cheek. “It’s okay, I know you’d never hurt me.”
The love and compassion shining from Tom’s eyes had the power to take Booker’s breath away, and he remained mute for several moments before finding the courage to openly admit what he’d avoided acknowledging since his liaison with Ingram Holland. “I need help.”
Relief flooded through Tom in a turbulent wave of emotion. He’d spent enough time with Booker to know he could be a stubborn sonofabitch, and he felt immensely proud his lover could take responsibility and reveal his level of mental anguish without embarrassment. It was the slap-in-the-face type of wake-up call the young officer needed because he was still having trouble coming to terms with his own breakdown. But now, as his heart swelled with love for the emotionally distressed man standing before him, he knew it would be a mistake to ignore the destructive behavior of his own psychological trauma. If he and Dennis were to make their relationship work, they both had to face their demons, no matter how emotionally challenging it might be.
With his thoughts now in order, he took hold of Booker’s hand and gave the cold, rigid fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I think we both need help,” he admitted quietly. “I didn’t realize how fucked up I was until… well, I’m sorry I overreacted, I behaved like a complete asshole. I love you, Dennis, and one day, when I’m able, I want to show you just how much. So let’s do this together, okay? Let’s support each other through this so we can finally have the relationship we both want.”
A warm, tingly feeling, soft, like the flutter of butterfly wings, traveled down the length of Booker’s spine, the thrilling stimulation reawakening his desires. But he knew he needed to show restraint. Regaining Tom’s trust and proving once and for all he would never, ever hurt him was more important than getting off. The realization was a turning point for the man whose primary objective had always been his own, selfish desires, and he marveled at how Tom had managed to infect his soul and tame his wild heart. He now understood the power of love was the totality of his existence, and it extended much further than what his conscious mind perceived. It was the greatest attribute of human emotion, the human soul, and the human spirit, and with Tom by his side, he knew he could overcome his adversity and free his mind from the horrors of Holland’s abuse.
“Dennis?” Tom prompted softly when he noticed the faraway look in Booker’s eyes. “Are you okay?”
Unshed tears clung to Booker’s long lashes, the opaque droplets framing his beautiful eyes. But an intensity of love rarely expressed between couples began to shine from the dark orbs, the soft light bravely banishing the darkness, and pulling Tom into his arms, he pressed his mouth against his ear. “I am now.”
**
Thirteen days later
The hard, plastic case in Tom’s hand was all that protected the images stored on the video’s magnetic tape from being permanently destroyed. Someone had printed the word LOVE SUCKS in bold print on the label, a clever, yet disturbing pun considering the content. It was a sobering moment, and closing his eyes, the young officer concentrated on his breathing by inhaling through his nose for three seconds before exhaling through his mouth, the slow expulsion of air making an audible hfff as it passed over his lips. It was a technique his therapist had taught him on his first visit, and once he realized it actually worked, he had quickly adopted the method. Within minutes, the tight knot of anxiety in his stomach loosened and his muscles relaxed, reducing the tremor in his hand. Once calm, he opened his eyes and stared at his new television. The now or never moment had arrived, and slipping the tape into the VCR, he picked up the remote. His thumb hovered nervously over the tiny buttons, but in his heart, he knew the time had come to confront his past head on, and steeling himself for what he was about to see, he swallowed down his fear and pressed play.
**
The click of a key turning in the door signaled Booker’s return home from work, and using the remote to turn off the television, Tom turned in his seat and waited. Since their agreement to see a psychologist, Booker had moved out of his cramped, two-room apartment and into Tom’s more spacious home. However, the change to their living arrangement hadn’t gone as smoothly as Hanson would have liked. Although still anxious at the thought of penetrative sex, when Booker gave up his apartment and officially moved in so they could start their lives together as a couple (albeit in secret), he had hoped their relationship would have progressed past the point of kissing. The memory of his lover jerking him off was still fresh in his mind, and he longed to experience the same level of intimacy again. But even though their relationship had transitioned past the point of just friendship, Booker remained at arm’s-length, stubbornly refusing to engage in any real sexual contact. For Tom, who now felt ready to take their affair to the next level, it was exceedingly frustrating, but he also knew he was mostly to blame. Two weeks before, he had reacted badly to the ferocity of Booker’s kiss, and the dark-haired officer now appeared reluctant to run the risk of him freaking out again. However, after much soul searching, Tom now had a plan, and although he wasn’t one-hundred percent sure it wouldn’t blow up in his face, he felt he at least needed to give it a try.
“Hey,” he greeted with a smile when Booker entered the apartment. “How was work?”
It was the same question Tom asked every time Booker came home from the Chapel, and immediately, the stock-standard reply of “Fine,” took form on the dark-haired officer’s lips. But it hadn’t been fine, it had been a nightmare, as had the day before, and the day before that. He was tired of his coworkers treating him like a sexual deviant, he was tired of Fuller’s relentless supervision, and he was tired of Tom constantly asking him about his day. Therefore, his reply of fine quickly transformed into an honest, yet abrasive answer. “Fucking brilliant. How ‘bout you, Hanson? Did you enjoy your day lazing around watching television? That Santa Barbara, huh? Riveting stuff.”
Tom’s smile faded, and unable to hide the pain radiating from his big, brown eyes, he quickly ducked his head, his eyelids rapidly blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “Sorry,” he mumbled, the heaviness in his chest thickening his voice. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
A gloomy stillness blanketed the air, suffocating the two men within its oppressive folds. The resentment silently brewing between them was now out in the open, giving substance to its validity. Both men felt justified in their anger; one because he had to face the wrath of his peers on a daily basis, the other because his career was in jeopardy and therefore, he no longer had any peers. Booker had the job Tom wanted but was an outcast, whereas Tom had the peace Booker craved but had lost his identity. Neither man was happy with their situation, and so, the animosity had slowly festered. It was, without a doubt, a classic ‘the grass is greener on the other side’ scenario, except, in reality, neither man really wanted what the other man had. What they did want, was for their lives to return to the way they had been before the Pi Tau hazing case. Back then, they were unaffected by the horrors of rape and abuse, free from the black tendrils of suffering that constantly dragged them toward the darkness of a breakdown. They were carefree twenty-three-year-olds doing a job they loved, but in the blink of an eye, all that had changed; in the blink of an eye, they had changed.
No longer able to deal with the tension in the room, Tom started to rise, but the couch suddenly depressed, and a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him seated. “I’m sorry, baby,” Booker whispered against his ear. “I’ve had a shit day, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Not one to hold a grudge once he’d received an apology, Tom relaxed back against Booker’s chest, his fingers playing nervously with the remote control in his hand. He wasn’t sure if now was the time to put his plan into motion, but he was afraid if he chickened out, he would never find the courage to go through with it. And so, with his decision now made, he turned and faced his lover, his long, dark lashes accentuating the anxiety shining from his beautiful brown eyes. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Unsettled by the comment, Booker’s brow creased into a worried frown. “Show me?” he queried, the timbre of his voice rising slightly. “Tommy, you’re not hurting yourself again, are you?”
Tom quickly shook his head, the sharp movement flicking his long bangs into his eyes. “No, it’s not that, it’s… just watch, okay? Then we can talk.”
With his interest now piqued, Booker faced the television as the young officer pressed the power button on the remote. After a momentary blackness, David Hasselhoff’s buff (if somewhat excessively hairy) torso materialized, the deepness of his tan highlighted against the cobalt blue of the Pacific Ocean behind him. Puzzled by the image, Booker started to speak, but Tom quickly silenced him. “Wait.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Booker saw Tom switch remotes, and he turned his attention back to the television. Innocently ill-prepared, he held his breath in anticipation, but his naïve curiosity quickly turned into heart-stopping distress as an image of Tom’s face filled the screen. Panic constricted his lungs, the suffocating sensation tightening his throat, and his eyes grew wide as he desperately tried to suck in a breath. But all he could manage was a slow, painful rasp before staggering to his feet and uttering one, distraught word. “No!”
Cold waves of regret undulated down the entire length of Tom’s body, sending shivers of remorse up and down his spine, and he silently cursed himself for being such an inconsiderate fool. He should have warned his lover instead of showing him the heavily edited tape of his assault without any preparation. His thumb quickly hit the pause button, and standing up, he placed his hand behind Booker’s neck, gently pulling him forward until the dark-haired officer’s head rested against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dennis, I’m so fucking sorry. I should have explained, but I guess our argument threw me a little and I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Jerking free from the affectionate hold, Booker glared back at Tom, his eyes blazing. “EXPLAIN? EXPLAIN WHAT?” he shouted. “WHY THE FUCK WOULD I WANT TO SEE THAT TAPE AGAIN? WHY?”
Momentarily confused, Tom faltered. “A-Again? When did you see—”
“HOLLAND!” Booker yelled, his voice tremulous, his features quivering with raw emotion. “HOLLAND PLAYED ME THE TAPE, AND I HAD TO WATCH MYSELF RAPING YOU… ORALLY RAPING YOU! HOW THE FUCK DO YOU THINK THAT MADE ME FEEL, HANSON? AND NOW YOU WANT ME TO WATCH IT AGAIN? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
A slow dawning of comprehension relaxed the muscles in Tom’s jaw, and gripping Booker’s upper arms in a tight hold, he spoke in a calm, unwavering voice. “Listen to me, Dennis, I’ve told you before, you didn’t rape me. And this isn’t the original tape; Doug took that and gave it to Fuller after I freaked out. This is the edited tape, the one McCarter threatened to release if we went to the cops.”
Not seeing the distinction, Booker grasped hold of Tom’s wrists and violently yanked down his arms, his fingers cruelly squeezing the young officer’s carpal bones in a vice-like grip. “And why the fuck would I want to watch that?” he spat, his wild eyes flashing with moral outrage.
Unperturbed by Booker’s indignation, Tom managed to ignore the pain flaring in his wrists by gazing deep into his lover’s dark eyes. “Because it’ll show you what we could have.”
For several moments, the only sound in the room was the hypnotic tick-tock of the clock, interspersed with the rasp of Booker’s tortured breathing. Tom’s wrists burned, the fiery heat shooting up his arms in uncomfortable jolts of pain, but he refused to pull free in case he further aggravated the situation. Eventually, the intensity of his suffering eased as Booker’s fingers slipped free, leaving angry red marks in their wake.
“Dennis?” Tom ventured softly, resisting the urge to rub his wrists.
All the anger and humiliation surging through Booker’s body released in one, strangled sob, and his legs went limp, forcing him to collapse onto a chair or risk falling over. “I-I don’t understand,” he choked, his eyes desperately searching his lover’s face for an answer. “How can that tape show—”
“Just watch,” Tom interrupted softly, and picking up the remote, he pointed it at the television and pressed play.
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Beneath a Heart of Darkness