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To Chase a Feather in the Wind	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1696 -:- 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
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Tom strode up and down the corridor of the ER, occasionally checking his watch before resuming his frantic pacing. It had been three hours since Booker’s arrival and he had yet to speak to a doctor who could advise him of his condition. The memory of the dry blood smeared over the young officer’s stomach filtered into his mind and hot, watery bile rose in his throat. But he swallowed deeply, forcing the vomit back down before it could take hold. The last thing he wanted to do was fall apart. He needed to be strong, he needed to be there for Booker and help him through the trauma he had experienced; he needed to be a friend.
The exam room door opened and a portly doctor exited, his mouth set in a firm line. Tom stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I’m here with Officer Booker. How is he?”
The doctor looked him up and down. “Are you family?”
Tom pulled out his badge. “I’m Officer Hanson, I work with Dennis,” he replied in an authoritative voice, “and this is now a police matter, so any information you can give—”
Doctor Langley waved a dismissive hand at him. “Spare me your spiel Officer Hanson,” he retorted wearily, “I know the drill.” He motioned towards the red plastic chairs that lined the corridor but when Tom shook his head, he took a seat himself. “I hope you don’t mind,” he sighed, “it’s been a long shift.”
“Of course not,” Tom murmured.
Langley opened the folder in his hand and glanced at his notes. “There is evidence of sexual activity. I've have done an internal exam and there is anal tearing, which makes me believe Officer Booker was raped. He is malnourished, dehydrated and he appears to be under the influence of some kind of narcotic. I’ve taken blood and we will screen for STDs and drugs. Samples of the blood and semen covering his body will also be sent to the lab for DNA testing.” He paused for a moment before lifting his head and giving Tom a serious look. “Officer Booker has been through a terrible ordeal and once he is well enough, I’m recommending that he be moved to our psychiatric wing.”
Tom swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. “Is that really necessary?” he asked. “Wouldn’t he be better off with his family?”
Langley stood up and placing his hands on his hips, he stretched his aching back. “It’ll just be for a few days so we can monitor his state of mind. It’s really for his own protection in case… well, we don’t want him doing anything to harm himself.”
A cold chill ran down Tom’s spine. The thought that Dennis might try to commit suicide had never entered his mind and now that the doctor had mentioned it, he realized it was a real possibility. “Does it happen often?” he asked quietly,
The doctor’s expression remained grim. “More often than we’d like.”
Tom chewed anxiously on his lower lip. “But he’ll speak to a psychologist and that’ll help him deal with it, right?”
Langley managed a small smile. “We’ll do everything we can to help him,” he replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to see.”
The next words out of Tom’s mouth were uttered before he had time to think what he might be getting himself into. “Can I see him?”
Surprised by Tom’s request, Langley thought for a moment before he gave his reply. “I think it would be best if he saw his family first.”
Running a hand through his hair, Tom gave the doctor what he hoped was a beseeching look. “His family live out of state, they won’t arrive until tomorrow. I think he could really use a friend.”
“Are you his friend?” Langley asked directly. “Because he’s in a very fragile state of mind and he needs people around him who genuinely care about his welfare.”
Lowering his gaze, Tom let out a sigh. “No, I guess we’re not really friends, but we work together and we trust each other with our lives. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Once again, Langley took his time considering Tom’s statement before replying, “I suppose it does and he could use some support until his family arrives. But be careful what you say, I know you’re a police officer but I don’t want him interviewed until the drugs are out of his system and he can think clearly. Understood?”
Tom nodded. “Understood.”
**
Standing outside Booker’s hospital room, Tom closed his eyes and took several deep breaths as he psyched himself up in preparation for what he was about to face. Doctor Langley had explained that the drugs were slowly leaving Dennis’ system and that he was becoming more aware of his surroundings. Tom could not help but wonder how much he remembered about the rapes and he hoped that he had been too stoned to understand what was happening to him. But only Dennis could answer that question and he had promised Langley that there would be no official interview until he had been given the all clear. The last thing he wanted on his conscience was the knowledge that he had pushed Booker too hard too early. He knew that they needed as much information as they could gather if they had any hope of ever catching Keppler but he was not prepared to compromise Dennis’ mental wellbeing in the process. The interview could wait and until then, they would continue their search for Keppler through good old-fashioned police work.
When he opened his eyes, he felt a little calmer and he knew he could not put off the inevitable any longer. He would have to see Booker sometime and he believed it was better to do it sooner rather than later. It was important to him that Booker knew that he was there for him, whatever he needed and that he did not view him any differently because of what had happened. He knew he needed to tread carefully; his feelings for Booker had increased exponentially since he went missing and it was vital that he did not show him too much affection. Booker was likely to be wary of male contact and he did not want to spook him. Also, he was not delusional. No matter how much he wanted it, he knew he would never have a relationship with Dennis beyond friendship and even that was not a given. Booker was one-hundred percent straight and he needed to push aside his sexual desire for the dark haired officer and concentrate on helping him through his ordeal.
Without giving himself any more time to ponder on the what’s and what ifs, he took one more deep, calming breath and walked into the room. A white curtain was pulled around the bed, shielding Dennis from view and he stopped and cleared his throat before speaking. “Dennis? Um, it’s Hanson. Can I come in?”
Silence greeted his request and he stood there wondering what to do. He did not want to invade Dennis’ privacy if he did not want visitors but more importantly, he also did not want him to think that he had been abandoned. Therefore, impulsive Tom overrode cautious Tom and pulling back the curtain, he stepped inside.
Booker lay with his eyes closed and his arms resting on top of the white sheet that covered his body. He had obviously had a shower and his damp hair curled around his pale face, giving him a much younger appearance than his twenty-three years. An IV pumped fluid into a vein in his right arm and there was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around his left.
Tom jumped when the cuff suddenly came to life, slowly inflating before deflating noisily and recording a reading of 130/90. Rubbing a nervous hand over his mouth, he pulled up a chair and sat down at Dennis’ bedside. More than anything, he wanted to reach out to him and give comfort through a gentle touch, but he held back. He was frightened of what the reaction would be and he did not want to cause the young officer any undue stress. Therefore, he remained silent and motionless, hoping that Dennis was gaining some comfort from his presence.
Thirty minutes passed and he knew that visiting hours would soon be over. Getting to his feet, he began to walk away when a warm hand grasped his fingers. Turning around with a start, he immediately fell under the gaze of two jet black eyes and when tears began to leak from the corners and trickle down the pale cheeks, he threw all caution to the wind. “Oh Dennis,” he whispered and sitting back down, he grasped the warm hand in both of his and held it tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Dennis closed his eyes but his tears seeped from beneath the lids and trailed their way down his face. “Stay,” he whispered in a raspy voice.
Tom’s own eyes filled with tears and he squeezed Dennis’ fingers. “I’m here Dennis, for as long as you need me, I’m here.”
“Thank you,” Dennis croaked and moments later, he was asleep, secure in the knowledge that he was finally safe.
**
An hour after visiting hours were over, an insistent nurse finally told Tom to leave and as he walked out of the sliding doors of the hospital, he suddenly felt very alone. He desperately needed to feel the warm embrace of another human being and he briefly considered going to the Rainbow Bar and picking up a one-night stand. But he was not sure that casual sex with a faceless man would take his mind off Booker and so he dismissed the thought. Instead, he decided to go and see Doug. It was late but Doug’s door was always open to him, no matter what time of the day or night. It was one of the wonderful things about their friendship, they never turned each other away.
He hailed a cab and stared mindlessly out of the window as it drove the short distance to Penhall’s loft apartment. When he alighted several minutes later, he walked into the building and stopped outside of Doug’s door. He paused for a moment before rapping his knuckles loudly against the wooden paneling.
Moments later, the door opened and Doug’s sleepy face peered through the gap between the chain lock. “Hanson?” he muttered as he ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “Is everything okay? I didn’t expect to see you till tomorrow.”
The right side of Tom’s mouth twitched into an apologetic smile. “Sorry, it’s just…” His voice trailed off and his eyes glistened with tears. “Jesus Doug, I could really use someone to talk to.”
Doug slipped off the chain and opened the door. “Sure buddy, whatever you need.” When Tom entered the apartment, he closed the door behind him. “Can I get you anything?”
Another small smile played over Tom’s lips, but it did not reach his eyes and he sighed wearily. “I could really use a drink.”
“Beer okay?” Doug asked as he moved towards the refrigerator. “Or do you want something stronger?”
Tom flopped down onto the couch and leaned back against the cushions. “Whiskey if you’ve got it,” he replied.
Doug grabbed an unopened bottle of Jack Daniel’s and tucked it under his arm. He opened a cupboard door and took out two tumblers before walking back into the living room. Sitting down next to his friend, he unscrewed the bottle cap and poured a large measure into each glass. After handing one to his friend, he raised his in salute. “To Booker’s recovery.”
Tears once again filled Tom’s eyes and leaning forward, he clinked his glass against Doug’s and swallowed down a large measure of the amber fluid. A comforting warmth spread through his chest and down into his stomach and he took two more gulps before settling back against the leather couch.
Doug knew what he was about to ask was a stupid question, but he voiced it anyway. “How is he?”
Tom sipped at his drink. “As you’d expect. The doctor wants to put him in a psych ward so they can keep an eye on him, you know, in case…” Unable to finish the sentence, he cast his eyes down towards his lap and stared at his glass.
“Jesus,” Doug muttered and taking a large gulp of whiskey, he gazed at Tom with worried eyes. “Do they really think he might hurt himself?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Tom continued to gaze at the glass he was nursing in his lap. “It happens.”
Penhall drained his glass and quickly refilled it. “I guess it’s not really surprising, I mean for a guy to have that happen to him is pretty hard to deal with.”
Tom lifted his head and gave his friend a hard stare. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Doug’s cheeks flushed a soft pink. “You know, it’s unnatural for a guy to stick his thing in another guy's butt.”
Clenching his hands tightly around his glass, Tom’s eyes blazed with anger. “His thing? Jesus Christ Penhall, how fucking old are you? And for your information, what two consenting adults do in private has nothing to do with what happened to Dennis. Nothing! Keppler forced him to have sex and what happened doesn’t have anything to do with homosexuality in the same way a woman being raped by a man doesn’t have anything to do with heterosexual sex. We’re talking about rape! We’re talking about fucking RAPE! Dennis was RAPED!”
Surprised by the level of Tom’s ferocity, Doug realized that he had somehow touched a raw nerve but he had no idea why. Not wanting to fight with his friend, he reached out a hand and laid it on his shoulder. “Hey Tommy, I didn’t mean—”
Tom pulled away from Doug’s touch and slammed his drink down on the coffee table. “Screw you Penhall,” he spat and getting to his feet, he stalked angrily towards the door.
“Tommy wait!” Doug yelled but the only answer he received was the resonating sound of a slamming door.
- 6
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To Chase a Feather in the Wind