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Cries of a Shadow	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 2757 -:- 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
When Booker arrived at the warehouse the following morning, he found the parking lot empty. Pushing open the rusty door, he stared at the derelict space, a deep frown wrinkling his brow. At just past quarter to eight, Tom was late, and the dark-haired officer couldn’t help but wonder if he would show up at all. His harsh words the previous night had obviously impacted negatively on his friend, and he still wasn’t sure what he could say to take the hurt away. He wasn’t proud of his actions, and he deeply regretted his disparaging remarks, especially because his target was a man whose self-effacement rivaled that of anyone he knew. It had been a low blow, and when he’d arrived home, he’d sought solace in a bottle of whiskey. But his guilt had only escalated as he struggled to make sense of his feelings. After several stiff belts, he had started to doubt his character, and it was then he began to wonder if he really was a bully who got off on other people’s pain. But after spending the better part of the night drinking and exploring the concept in his mind, he’d come to the conclusion he wasn’t. While there was no doubt his partner frustrated the hell out of him, he felt no malice toward the young officer, in fact, his feelings were the exact opposite. Despite his disappointment in Tom’s lack of backbone, he felt an overwhelming desire to protect his new friend, leaving him strangely conflicted. But after almost driving himself crazy trying to make sense of it all, he had finally opted for the obvious explanation. Theirs was a fledgling relationship, and therefore, there were bound to be a few shaky steps along the rocky road toward trust and friendship. While a part of him recognized his eventual acceptance for what it was—a cop out—his tired mind had needed resolution. However, that didn’t mean he would fall into the same selfish trap again. He genuinely liked Tom, and therefore, he would watch his mouth and try his hardest not to hurt him again.
However, although he had reconciled the reason for the fight in his mind, he still had no idea how to apologize to the man he’d wronged. Tom wasn’t always accessible, and after their argument, Booker knew the young officer’s defensive shield would be at an all-time impenetrable high. It was a frustrating side effect of his friend’s personality, but the dark-haired officer was not discouraged. Despite the metaphorical obstacles blocking his way, he would try his hardest to convey his remorse in the least belittling way possible. His troubled conscience sought repose from his guilt, but more importantly, he hoped an apology would lessen the pain infecting Tom’s heart.
The screech of the warehouse’s metal door alerted Booker to his partner’s presence and turning around, he greeted his friend with a broad smile. “Hey!”
But if he thought his cheerful countenance would help break the ice, he was sorely mistaken. Tom’s expression remained impassive and ignoring the greeting, the young officer spoke in a voice that barely rose above a whisper. “Ready to go?”
Unable to mask his disappointment, Booker’s smile faded from his lips. He had hoped Tom would have found it in his heart to forgive him, but it appeared the young officer was more stubborn than he’d previously thought. Not that he could blame him. No one liked their flaws pointed out, and his unchecked words had managed to generate a particularly caustic ring when spoken out loud. But as with all verbalizations, once released into the universe, there was no way to take them back. Words had the ability to take on a power of their own, especially when spoken in anger. Although not always intentional, it was very easy for the original meaning to warp and change until it slowly manifested into a living, breathing entity, dynamic enough to bring even the strongest man to his knees. An unknown author once wrote, ‘Be sure to taste your words before you spit them out’ and yet many chose to ignore the simple advice, leaving the recipient hurting. Booker recognized his thoughtless tirade as one such case, but an inner determination had him scrambling to rectify his mistake, even if he had to get on bended knee to do it. The only problem was, for once, words failed him, and by the time he found his voice, Tom had already gone.
Having missed his window of opportunity, the dark-haired officer exhaled a weighty sigh and picking up Tom’s backpack, he headed toward the door.
**
The shrill scream of the morning bell greeted Booker as he pulled into Westview High’s parking lot, the deafening command setting his teeth on edge. As he climbed out of his vehicle, he spied Tom’s Mustang parked between two battered Fords. Immediately, a pang of guilt settled in the center of his chest before working its way down into his stomach where it heaved and churned, the unpleasantness of the sensation making him want to vomit. Slamming the Caddy’s door closed, it took him a moment to regain his composure. Hard-bitten Dennis Brady was not the type to feel compassion for those he had wronged, and he knew he needed to push his remorse to one side and channel his alter ego. It wasn’t easy, but he recognized the importance of keeping his private life separate from the job or risk blowing his cover.
After inhaling several deep breaths, he sauntered toward the bland brown-brick building, his coveted devil-may-care swagger catching the eye of several teenage girls. Embarrassed by their high-pitched giggling, he quickened his step, but just as he approached the school’s broad steps, he caught sight of Tom disappearing behind the gymnasium. Intrigued, he abandoned his plan to actually turn up to class on time and instead, he hurried across the quadrangle in search of his friend. As providence would have it, he rounded the corner just in time to witness Tom shove a small teenage boy to the ground, and he stopped abruptly, a look of shock registering on his face. The act was so egregious, it took him a moment to respond, but just as he was about to yell for Tom to stop, he caught a glimpse of Tyrell Carson loitering nearby, and he swallowed the diatribe forming on his lips. While he didn’t agree with his partner’s methods, he understood the opportunity, and shrugging off his remaining reservations, he stepped forward. “Have you got his money?”
At the sound of Booker’s voice, Tom turned, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, followed by a flash of uncertainty. He faltered for a moment before reaching down and pulling several dollar bills out of the student’s pocket. “I do now,” he replied, his voice lacking emotion.
Panic shone in the young student’s eyes, and terrified he was about to get the shit beaten out of him, he scrambled to his feet and ran, the heavy stomp of his footfalls echoing across the now empty schoolyard. Wary of Tyrell’s looming presence, Booker approached his friend. When he was a few feet away, he released his anger by throwing Tom’s backpack forcefully at him. “I thought you said we shouldn’t rough ‘em up!” he hissed, his dark eyes blazing with anger.
The bag slammed into Tom’s chest, the weight causing him to stagger backward. But despite the dark-haired officer’s obvious annoyance, his expression remained impassive. He felt numb, devoid of any emotion, and letting the pack fall to the ground, he stared at the crumpled notes in his hand. But rather than try to justify his heinous behavior, he revealed something even more disturbing. “I just want this case over.”
Exasperated, Booker immediately challenged his friend. “Why? Because you hate the bullying or because you hate working with me?”
“Both.”
The softly delivered answer was not what Booker expected, and he blinked several times as he struggled to digest the startling revelation. While it didn’t take a genius to figure out Tom was hurting, he hadn’t thought their argument was bad enough to warrant him pulling the pin on their working relationship. However, by the look on his partner’s face, it obviously was, and he knew he needed to act quickly or lose Tom forever. But before he could utter a sound, a voice called out from behind him.
“Hey, McQuaid, Brady, over here.”
Annoyed at the interruption, Booker acted on impulse, and spinning around, he glared at the unwanted intruder. “Fuck off, Carson, this is a private conversation.”
Furious, Tom threw his friend a shut the fuck up look before addressing the teenager in a bored voice. “Whaddaya want, Tyrell?”
A broad grin stretched across Tyrell Carson’s face. While most students at Westview High feared him, Tom and Dennis appeared unperturbed by his presence. But rather than take offense, he found their arrogance amusing. It had been a long time since a student had challenged his authority, and he found it curiously refreshing. If the two delinquents were as brazen as they appeared, they might be more useful than he had previously hoped.
But first, he needed to test the waters, and stepping forward, he motioned toward the money in Tom’s hand. “I’m guessing poor Jimmy is pissing his pants right about now. Nice tactics, by the way, but are the few dollars you stole really worth all that effort?”
It was the moment Tom had eagerly awaited, and tucking the notes into his pocket, he gave a nonchalant shrug. “We do alright. But if you’ve got a better idea, I’m listening.”
A sinister glint flashed in Tyrell’s ice-blue eyes. “Actually, I do. If you’re interested, meet me at the community pool at seven tonight.”
Tom’s brow creased into a frown. “Isn’t it closed?”
“Not to me,” Tyrell laughed, and without further explanation, he turned and walked away.
The ensuing silence had Booker wondering how to proceed. He had hoped their small victory would have softened Tom’s attitude toward him, but the young officer’s aloof and detached posture had him questioning whether an apology really could fix their broken friendship. However, he felt he had to try. Even if Tom rebuffed his heartfelt words, he needed to verbalize his feelings, if only for his own peace of mind. Otherwise, he would likely live with the regret forever.
“We should get to class,” Tom muttered, his reticent gaze firmly fixed on the cracked asphalt.
Not about to give up on his objective, Booker grabbed his friend by the upper arm. “Wait. We’ve got what we came for, let’s ditch school and go somewhere and talk.”
“About?”
Sensing an opportunity, Booker’s lips twitched into a half smile. “About what an asshole I am and how I don’t deserve you as a friend. How’s that for starters?”
While not a full-blown apology, Tom’s frosty demeanor thawed ever so slightly. Lifting his head, he studied Booker’s contrite expression for several moments before the muscles in his face relaxed. “How ‘bout you buy me breakfast and I’ll think about it.”
Booker’s brow puckered. “Think about what?”
Tom’s lips tilted at the edges. “About whether I want you as a friend.”
It was on the tip of Booker’s tongue to ask, “Can you really afford to be that choosy?” But as it was his big mouth that had gotten him into trouble in the first place, he bit his tongue. He was making progress, and he wasn’t about to pour salt on Tom’s wounds by making any more hurtful remarks.
“Okay, deal,” he replied. “Where do you wanna go?”
Tom took a moment to look around the school grounds before giving his reply. “As far away from here as possible.”
**
As the strong black coffee slowly worked its magic, Tom closed his eyes and exhaled a sigh. Although used to a solitary existence, his fight with Booker had affected him more than he would have liked, bringing back the unwelcome feelings of loneliness he hadn’t experienced since he was a child. After years of conditioning, he’d considered his mind immune to such sentiments, and yet after only a few days of interaction, the thought of losing Booker’s friendship had caused him deep mental anguish. Unable to shrug off the hurtful words, he had hidden behind his metaphorical wall, his grief and anger slowly eating him up inside. Inexperience had prevented him from reaching out to his partner, even when he knew he was burdened with regret. His fear of rejection was too ingrained, too powerful to ignore, and so he had withdrawn back into his shell, where he was safe from harm. But it seemed Booker was far more adept at righting past wrongs, and he was grateful—if also a little cautious—of his clumsy attempt to repair their damaged relationship. While the memory of the officer’s venomous words still caused a physical pain in his heart, he was willing to move forward because apart from his brother, Dennis was the only friend he had.
“I’m sorry.”
Startled back to reality, Tom’s eyes jerked open. “Huh?”
Booker was getting used to his partner’s frequent daydreams, so he repeated his apology. “I said I was sorry. I never should have said those things last night, and I wish I could take it all back.”
“Oh,” Tom replied, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. “Um...okay. But you don’t have to apologize. Everything you said is true. I know I’m weird, and I know I’m not easy to work with, so if you don’t want to partner with me then—”
“Whoa!” Booker interjected, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “How did you get that from me saying I was sorry?”
“Because this is what always happens,” Tom explained in a small voice. “I’m not stupid, Dennis, I know what the others say about me. They hate working with me and soon, you will too.”
Booker’s skin prickled and sitting back in his chair, he folded his arms across his chest. “So, what you’re saying is, I’m a sheep, and I’m gonna follow what everyone else does. Geez, thanks a lot, Hanson, it’s good to know what you really think of me.”
Flustered by his friend’s reaction, Tom violently shook his head. “N-No! That’s n-not what I meant! I just...oh God! Why do I always fuck everything up?”
Misery etched tiny lines around Tom’s eyes and mouth. He was desperate for Booker to tell him he was wrong, that it was all in his imagination, but when his friend remained silent, he dropped his head and mumbled the words that were never far from his lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you finished?”
Taken aback by his friend’s words, Tom slowly lifted his head. “Wh-what?”
“I asked if you were finished,” Booker answered in a flat voice. “Because if not, I’ll leave and come back when you’re done feeling sorry for yourself.”
Embarrassment raised the color in Tom’s cheeks. “Sorr—”
“STOP!” Booker yelled, his palms slamming down on the table. “Jesus Christ, Tom, stop apologizing!”
A petulant pout formed on Tom’s lips. “Why? You apologized to me, so why can’t I apologize to you? You don’t own the patent on the word sorry, asshole. So, if I want to apologize, I’ll do it, whether you fucking like it or not!”
Amused by his friend’s response, Booker’s mouth parted in a wide grin. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper again, but Tom’s self-flagellation grated on his nerves. However, he wasn’t about to let another argument destroy their friendship, and so, in an attempt to defuse the situation, he uttered the one word he was certain would bring a smile to his friend’s lips. “Sorry.”
Tom’s lips twitched at the edges. “Jerk.”
“So, am I forgiven?”
Unable to resist Booker’s goofy grin, Tom smiled back. “I s’pose.”
Eager to put the past behind them, Booker decided not to dwell on the subject. He had witnessed a spark inside Tom that gave him hope, all he had to do was figure out how to keep it ignited.
“So, what do we do now?” he eventually asked. “Do we go back to school or do we wait and meet Carson at the pool?”
Tom considered their options for several moments before giving his answer. “I think we should go back to school...I mean, if you’re okay with it.”
“Hey, you’re the boss,” Booker grinned. “School it is.”
The tension around Tom’s eyes melted away, and he relaxed against the back of his chair. Booker was trying his hardest to boost his confidence, and although he would never say it, he was deeply grateful for the effort. While it was obvious he and Dennis were as different as chalk and cheese, he was starting to believe his new friend was worth getting to know, despite the risks involved. But he wasn't about to waste time thinking about the future. The present was all that mattered, and he would enjoy the freedom Tom McQuaid afforded him before slipping back into the nightmare that was his life.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Cries of a Shadow