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Then As It Was, Then Again It Will Be	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1347 -:- 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
- 8
- 9
- 10
At first glance, the apartment appeared to be like any typical bachelor pad. Dirty dishes sat piled in the kitchen sink, items of clothing hung off the backs of chairs and the open bathroom door revealed a raised toilet seat. It was only after closer inspection that Dennis noticed signs of Tom’s disability. The bathroom had railings both in the shower and on the wall next to the toilet. A shower chair was also in view. The kitchen utensils all had large handles for easy grip and several bowls had large central channels allowing food to be scooped up easily using one utensil. A walking frame also sat beside a comfortable looking high-seated living room chair. All these items were testament to Tom’s daily struggles and Dennis felt a pang of pain imagining how hard it was for Tom just to exist day after day. Two other rooms led off from the main living area. One was a very untidy bedroom full of gym equipment, which Dennis guessed was Doug’s room. The door to the other room was closed.
Doug slammed the apartment door shut, causing Dennis to jump. “Mi casa, su casa,” Doug said cheerfully, motioning towards the couch. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Dennis sat down as Doug knocked lightly on Tom’s bedroom door. A quiet “Yeah?” could be heard from inside the closed room and Dennis’ heart began to pound. Doug entered and closed the door behind him. Several long minutes passed before Doug returned, his face showing slight agitation. “You can go in but try not to upset him, he’s a little fragile.”
Dennis’ face showed alarm. “Maybe it would be best if I—”
Penhall cut him off. “No, he wants to see you he’s just had a bad day. He’s tired and he’s embarrassed because of his speech. If it bothers you, don’t show it. He’s sensitive, you know?”
With a nod, Dennis stood up. Wiping his palms nervously on his jeans he walked over to Tom’s closed door. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. When he opened his eyes, he felt composed enough to rap on the door. A moment passed before Dennis heard Tom’s voice. “C-come in.”
Dennis turned the doorknob slowly and opened the door. The room was dim; the only light came from the muted television that cast flickering shadows on the bare walls. Tom sat on the bed with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. His hair was shorter than Dennis remembered, but his bangs still partly concealed his brown eyes. He was much thinner and his face was ghostly pale. As Booker stepped closer to the bed, he saw that a faint scar was still visible on Tom’s cheek.
“Hey D-Dennis,” Tom murmured, a sad smile on his lips. “I’m g-guessing I’ve ch-changed a bit, huh?”
Booker’s eyes misted over but he kept his emotions in check. “Hey Tommy, I’ve missed you.”
Hanson patted the bed and Booker sat down. Now that he was closer, he could see how ravaged Tom really looked. His heart broke at the difference in his friend. The cheeky smile and dancing light that had originally drawn Booker in so fully had been replaced by sadness and a tortuous look in Tom’s dead eyes. Booker could hardly bear the pain but he remained calm, for Hanson’s sake.
Being careful not to meet Dennis’ gaze, Tom cleared his throat as he nervously picked at his blanket. “D-Doug t-tells me you s-sat by my b-bed every d-day.”
“Yeah,” Dennis replied quietly, not sure what else he should add.
“I’m s-sorry I t-treated you s-so badly, I—”
“Don’t,” Dennis cut in softly. “I don’t want an apology, okay? I want to know how you are. I want to give you the answers you need to be able to start moving forward. Please Tommy, let me help you.”
Tom took a moment before replying. “I’m a m-mess Dennis. I c-can’t eat, I c-can’t sleep, I don’t know which m-memories in my head are r-real and wh-which ones are m-made up.” He rubbed his fingers wearily over his eyes. “I n-need answers.”
“What do you want to know?” Booker asked gently.
This time Tom’s eyes remained fixed upon Dennis. “D-did we k-kiss?” he asked bluntly. Receiving a slight nod from Dennis, he boldly continued. “D-did we k-kiss ‘cause of the j-job or b-because…” his voice trailed off as though unable to finish the question.
“I think it was a bit of both Tommy,” Booker replied. “We wanted to be convincing, so we could flush out the attackers but I wanted to do it too. I think part of you enjoyed it and something was beginning to develop between us but… I don’t know, you never said anything so maybe it was just me hoping you did.”
Hanson eyes dropped to the bed and once again he began picking at the blanket before asking, “D-did you l-love me?”
Booker’s heart rate increased at the question. “Yes,” he replied honestly, his eyes desperately searching Tom’s face for a reaction, but Hanson’s expression remained unreadable.
“D-do you s-still love me?” Tom persisted.
“Jesus Tom,” Dennis whispered, shaken by the question. “I don’t know.” A long silence stretched out between them before Booker concluded sadly. “I don’t know you anymore.”
A single tear trickled down Hanson’s cheek and he raised his eyes to meet Dennis’ stare. “D-do you w-want to? I m-mean—”
“Yes! Fuck yes!” Dennis replied immediately, as his own tears finally erupted. Reaching out, he hesitated for a moment before laying his hand down on the bed close to Tom’s feet. “Tommy I’ve missed you so much.”
Tom averted his eyes for a moment, before again looking directly at Dennis, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “I d-don’t know what you expect f-from me D-Dennis and I d-don’t know w-what I can give you.”
“It doesn’t matter Tommy,” Dennis replied happily, as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “I just want to be back in your life.”
Hanson did not reply but a half smile spread across his face, which almost reached his eyes.
**
Dennis exited Tom’s room and closed the door softly behind him. His mind was abuzz with all that had happened and his mood was euphoric. Hanson was once again a part of his life. It did not matter to Booker if it was only a friendship, what was important was that he could now be a part of Hanson’s recovery. He had the time and the money to be able to help in whatever way Tom needed. He longed to see happiness instead of misery on his friend’s face. If he could see Tom’s true smile once more, that would be reward enough.
Realizing that he had been standing motionless for several minutes, Booker brought his mind back to the present. He was aware of Doug’s gaze before their eyes actually met.
“Grab a beer,” Penhall offered, motioning towards the refrigerator. “Then we can talk.”
“Want one?” Dennis asked as he walked to the kitchen, but Doug lifted his full bottle in reply. Taking his beer, Dennis popped the top and walked back into the living area. He took a seat and raised his bottle in salute.
“Cheers.”
Doug raised his bottle in return and reaching for the TV remote, he hit the off button. Dennis immediately wished the television had remained on; the silence in the room was palpable. He could see that Doug was longing to ask what had transpired between himself and Hanson, but he seemed unsure as how to start the conversation. Eventually though, only one word was needed.
“So?”
Booker took a long swig of beer before replying. “He wants me back in his life.”
“Meaning?”
Penhall’s monosyllabic sentences angered Booker and his tone reflected his annoyance. “Meaning just that. He wants me in his life. Neither of us knows what that means… yet.”
When Doug asked, “Yet?” Dennis was tempted to jump to his feet and slam his fist into Penhall’s face. Instead, he drained his beer and slammed the empty bottle noisily onto the coffee table.
“YES! I said fucking YET!” Dennis exploded angrily. “JESUS CHRIST Penhall, what sort of an asshole do you take me for, huh? Do you honestly think I would do anything to Tommy that he didn’t consent to? He knows I had feelings for him, he knows we kissed and possibly, just possibly, he felt what I felt. Only time will tell us whether our relationship will become more than just friends. So why the FUCK are you coming down on me so hard now? You knew how I felt about Tom, you said you didn’t care and now—”
“I don’t care Booker, but I know you,” Doug replied just as angrily. “Your heart rules your head. I saw it every fucking day at the hospital. Any time Tom made the slightest improvement, you were ready to believe that everything was now okay. You never saw the bigger picture, you never wanted to accept that Tom may not recover and you sure as hell never…”
“I never what?” Dennis asked crossly when Doug did not finish his sentence.
Instead of replying, Doug stood up, his face ashen. “Tom!”
Panic gripped at Booker’s heart. Turning his head, he saw Hanson standing in the open doorway of his bedroom, a walking cane in his right hand. Tom’s face showed the misery he felt at witnessing his two friends fighting about his welfare.
Damn it! Booker thought, shame flushing his face. How could we be so fucking stupid?
Tom moved slowly, his gait stiff and slow. Sitting in the high-seated chair, he faced his two friends. “W-why are you f-fighting?”
Doug walked over and sat on the arm of Tom’s chair. Dennis noticed that he did not reach out and give Tom physical contact but when he spoke, his tone was reassuring. “Sorry buddy, we were just… shit! I don’t know what we were doing.”
“It’s b-because of m-me, isn’t it?” Hanson’s voice was full of despair. “I’m s-such a f-fucking loser, I c-c-can’t even s-s-speak p-p-prop…”
Unable to finish, Tom began to sob. Tears of frustration coursed down his beautiful face. Booker immediately jumped out of his chair and within seconds, he was kneeling at Tom’s feet. “Please Tom, don’t… it’s not you, it’s us, okay? Penhall and I are the losers, we should have known better.”
“Yeah,” Doug replied, smiling sheepishly. “You know me Hanson, shit for brains.”
Tom smiled at Penhall’s poor attempt at humor. “I’m just s-so t-t-tired,” was all he could manage to reply.
“C’mon,” Doug said tenderly, offering Tom an arm to lean on for support. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Hanson declined Penhall’s help but instead motioned for Booker to move the walking frame to the front of the chair so he could use it as support. Holding onto the frame, Tom began the slow walk back to his room. Before he entered, he turned back and spoke to Booker. “S-see you t-to-m-morrow?”
Although his heart was full of pain, Dennis smiled back brightly. “Sure thing.”
Tom’s familiar half smile flashed briefly across his face before he entered his room and closed the door.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Then As It Was, Then Again It Will Be