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What Is and What Should Never Be	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1336 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Climbing out of Robbie Werner’s car, Tom anxiously searched the crowded footpath for Booker. Pulling out his watch, he calculated that he had been gone for about an hour. He knew it was too early to panic, Dennis had said that they would meet back in a couple of hours and depending on what he was being paid to do, it could even take a little longer. Leaning against the wall of a women’s boutique, Tom closed his eyes and tried to block out the memory of his latest sexual encounter. He felt sick to his stomach that he had enjoyed having a man fucking him up the ass. He had enjoyed it so much that he had climaxed, something that had never happened when his Dad raped him. It went against everything he believed in. He felt dirty and perverted and his eyes burned as they filled with tears of confusion.
A quiet cough brought him back to reality. Opening his eyes, he swiftly wiped away his tears. A middle-aged man stood next to him, his face full of concern. “Are you all right?” he asked kindly.
Not wanting to engage in conversation, Tom nodded his affirmation and quickly turned away. The man leaned in close and clearing his throat, he whispered hoarsely, “How about a hand job?”
Tom’s stomach lurched and his depression rapidly deepened. That was all people saw when they looked at him; he was just a beautiful face who could give sexual pleasure. He was nothing more than a dirty little whore who walked the streets, waiting to be exploited. He felt that he was rapidly losing his identity. Soon, Thomas James McQuaid would no longer exist. He would become just Tommy, the pretty, teenage prostitute that men fucked in exchange for money.
The man coughed impatiently and Tom pulled himself out of his self-deprecation. He had to accept that this was now his life. He was certain he did not deserve it but it was the hand he had ultimately been dealt and he needed to learn to make the best of it. With a sigh, he made his decision. If he went with the man, it would be more money in his pocket and with any luck, by the time he had finished, Booker would be waiting for him.
“Okay,” he muttered wearily, “Where do you wanna go?”
“I know a place,” the man replied, taking hold of Tom’s arm and pulling him through the crowded streets. “It’s not far.”
After several minutes of winding through back alleys and narrow walkways, the man shoved Tom into an abandoned building. Looking around him, Tom began to feel uneasy. Something isn’t right, he thought and just as he was about to run, a fist slammed into the side of his head.
“FILTHY WHORE!” the man screamed, as Tom fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. “You think you can tempt men into sinning against God? WHORE! You will never know forgiveness!” A steel-capped boot connected with Tom’s ribs and the teenager cried out in pain. As the assault continued, Tom covered his head with his arms in an attempt to protect himself. He curled his body into a ball as boots and fists connected with his flesh and bones. A sharp pain in his stomach had him screaming in agony and he desperately tried to roll away. But the onslaught continued for several more minutes until the man was too exhausted to go on. With a final vicious kick to Tom’s head, he walked away, leaving Tom unconscious and laying in a pool of his own blood, a knife sticking out of his stomach.
**
Booker had managed to secure two jobs in two hours. The first was oral sex for twenty dollars. The second was a regular who went all the way. His regular had dropped him off just after one o’clock. Booker now had six crisp twenty-dollar bills in his pocket, payment for being, as his client like to put it, a good boy.
Standing in the rain Dennis’ dark eyes darted back and forth searching for any signs of Tom. He glanced at his wristwatch and his anxiety increased. He had been so careful to send Tom off with a man that he trusted. He had been pleasuring Robbie Werner for more than two years and had never found him to be anything but considerate and kind; well, as considerate and kind as a man who paid teenage boys for sex could be.
Pushing his dripping hair back from his face, Booker walked into the fancy boutique where he and Tom had agreed to meet. An elegantly dressed woman came hurrying over, her face showing alarm. “You can’t be in here,” she whispered as she attempted to usher him out of the door without actually making physical contact. “This is a reputable place of business.”
Ignoring the insult, Booker attempted to flash a winning smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave. I just need to know if you’ve seen my friend.”
The woman appeared perplexed. “Why would I have seen your friend” she asked, “You’re nothing but a…” her voice trailed off, too polite to say the words that had popped into her mind.
Remaining calm, Dennis tried to appeal to her humanity. “Look, he’s new to the city and new to… well, you know. A man picked him up and that was hours ago. I really need to find him. Please!”
Seeing the genuinely worried expression on the dirty runaway’s face, the woman softened. “I don’t really take much notice as to what goes on outside, but tell me what your friend looks like, maybe I saw something.”
After Booker gave his description, the woman nodded slowly. “Yes, yes, I think I saw him getting out of a brown car. I noticed him because he had a dazed look on his face and he was very pretty for a boy. But that was easily an hour ago, I don’t know where he went after that.”
“Are you sure you didn’t see him get in another car?” Booker asked, the timbre of his voice rising slightly.
“I’m sorry,” the woman replied firmly, “But I’ve told you everything I know, so please leave.”
Muttering, “Thanks anyway,” Dennis left the shop.
Checking his watch again, Booker walked up and down the pavement for another fifteen minutes. Suddenly realizing that Harry and the others would be wondering where he was, he turned and sprinted down the footpath, not caring if he bumped into people along the way. For a split second, he wondered if Tom had misunderstood and that when he arrived at the steps of the National Finance Institution, he would find Tom sitting with his group, waiting for him to arrive. As he rounded the corner, his heart fell; only four faces turned towards him.
“Have you seen Tommy?” he spluttered, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees as he panted heavily from his run.
Harry stood up, his face visibly alarmed. “Isn’t he with you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm so as not to scare Dave or Erin.
Shaking his head, Booker straightened up and replied, “He was but… I sent him off with Reliable Robbie and some woman reckons she saw him afterwards but… FUCK! He’s been missing for hours and I don’t know where to—“
“BOOKER!” a voice yelled, and spinning around Dennis saw a runaway named Steve racing towards him. “Someone’s been hurt!”
“Oh God,” Dennis whispered, the color draining from his face, “Tommy!”
Judy pulled the two younger children close as Harry ran down the steps, stopping in front of a frightened Steve. “What have you heard?” he commanded, “Tell me now.”
Steve spoke quickly, tripping over his words in his excitement, “The East Side kids found him! He was… they found him in the disused warehouse on Huntington. I think… no, they did… they took him to the free clinic on Fifty-Fourth, he’d been beaten and shot… no, no… stabbed! Yeah, stabbed. I dunno, but I think he might be dying.”
Erin broke into loud sobs as Judy held her close. Harry turned to Booker. “Go,” he instructed quietly, “We’ll meet you there.”
Dennis took off at a sprint, his heart pounding as he dodged and weaved through the post lunch crowds clogging up the pavement. “Out of my way!” he shouted, occasionally shoving at an uncooperative pedestrian. He arrived at the clinic within fifteen minutes and skidding into the waiting area, he yelled hysterically, “WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS HE?”
A nurse scurried out from behind the reception area. Taking in Dennis’ dirty, rumpled appearance, she immediately knew which patient he was inquiring about. “It’s okay, he’s with the doctor, you’ll have to wait here until—“
“NO!” Booker screamed, “NO! NO! NOOO! I need to see him, I need to see if it’s Tommy!”
The nurse laid a reassuring hand on Dennis’ shoulder. “You need to calm down, you’re not helping your friend by behaving this way. Take a seat and I’ll talk to the doctor.”
Ripping at his hair, Booker paced frantically back and forth in the waiting area until the nurse once again appeared. “Is he okay? Can I see him?” he asked hysterically.
Nodding, the nurse beckoned him forward. Following down a brightly lit corridor, Booker wondered if he wanted it to be Tom or not. If it was Tom, at least he had found him and if he were hurt, he would do everything in his power to make him well again. However, if it was not Tom, he still had the daunting task of trying to find out where he was. Taking a deep breath, he entered an exam room and cried out when he saw the beaten, bloody body of his friend laying on a bed, “TOMMY!”
Running towards the prone figure, one of the doctors in attendance intercepted him. “Whoa son, take it easy. Is this your friend?”
Booker nodded, his eyes never leaving Tom’s battered body. “Yeah, he um, he’s Tommy,” he gulped, as tears sprang to his eyes.
The doctor put a fatherly arm around Dennis’ shoulders and led him to a row of seats. Sitting down, he motioned to Dennis to do likewise. “Your friend’s in a pretty bad way but he’s going to survive. We need to get him to hospital so they can do a laparotomy to rule out any serious internal damage but I’m confident that the knife hasn’t penetrated any vital organs, so it’s really just a precaution.”
Shaking his head, Booker stared up at the doctor with wide eyes. “He doesn’t have insurance, he can’t afford—“
“It’s okay,” the doctor replied, smiling reassuringly, “They’ve agreed to take him at no cost.”
“Oh thank God,” Booker breathed in relief, as tears trickled down his cheeks. “Is he awake? Can I speak to him?”
The young nurse who had escorted Booker to Tom poked her head in the room. “The EMTs are here,” she informed the doctor before hurrying away.
Standing up the doctor spoke, “You can go with him if you like.”
Dennis nodded in appreciation. Walking out beside Tom’s stretcher, Booker turned to the nurse. “My friends are coming can you tell them where we are and… can you give them this,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the money he had earned. “Tell them to go to The Exeter, I’ll meet them there.”
The nurse smiled kindly, tears glistening in her eyes. Reaching out, she stroked Dennis’ tear stained cheek. “Don’t worry honey, he’ll be fine and I’ll give your friends the message.”
Smiling in return, Booker followed a semi-conscious Tom out to the waiting ambulance.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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What Is and What Should Never Be