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What Is and What Should Never Be	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1335 -:- 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
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Anal,Angst,Fingering,H/C,HJ,Humil,Inc,M/M,Minor2,Oral,RapeFic,Solo,Violence
It was the sound of Tom’s screaming that woke Doug from a deep sleep. Falling from the bed, he ran into the hallway and to the bedroom next door. Before he even tried the door handle, he knew that it would be locked. Fear gripped at his heart as he began pounding on the door. Why didn’t I stay with him? he mentally berated himself, as he frantically attempted to beat down the door.
“Don’t... please... please Dad... STOP!” Tom screamed, his voice high pitched in terror.
Doug began ramming his shoulder into the door. “Stop hurting him you BASTARD!” he yelled, “I’ll fucking kill you!”
Ignoring the pain in his body, he continued his onslaught, all the while knowing it was futile. The door was solid wood and even though he was large for a seventeen year old, he did not have the physical strength to break down the door. Sobbing in frustration, he collapsed to the floor as he persistently banged on the wood with his fist. Tom was now silent; the only sound Doug could hear was a soft grunting that came from his father. Within minutes a loud, satisfied, Fuck yeah could be heard and then silence.
The door that Doug had been sitting against opened so suddenly that he fell into the room in a heap. His father laughed mockingly as he kicked out viciously with his foot, connecting with Doug’s ribs. “Get him cleaned up and get to school,” his father growled and stepping over his winded eldest son, he sauntered downstairs.
Rubbing his chest, Doug scrambled to his feet, his eyes desperately searching the messy room. He eventually saw his younger brother naked and crouching in a corner, his arms wrapped tightly around his bent knees. A bruise was already beginning to form around his left eye and blood trickled from his nose. Tears stained his beautiful face but Tom remained eerily silent. Grabbing a sheet off the bed, Doug moved slowly as he sat down next to his traumatized sibling. “Hey Tommy,” he said gently as he wrapped the linen around Tom’s shaking body, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
Thomas McQuaid had been the victim of his father’s sexual abuse since the age of eleven. Now fifteen, he was slight in stature, looking much younger than his years. He was the image of the boys’ dead mother, pretty and petite; which was probably why their father did the unspeakable things that he did. Neither brother was a physical match against their six-foot parent but that did not mean that they did not try. Doug endeavored to protect his brother from the sexual violence but there were times when he foolishly let his guard down. Like the night before. They had come home late to an empty house and having wrongfully assumed that they would be safely at school by the time their drunken father staggered home, they had slept in their own rooms. Both had been desperate for a good night’s sleep, having spent the previous two nights sleeping rough in an attempt to avoid their father’s brutal temper. They had only moved to the neighborhood a week before, having lost their previous home for not paying the rent. The move had put them into a new school district and today was to be their first day. Given the circumstances, Doug wondered briefly if it would be better to play truant. But knowing his father’s temper, he decided again it. As much as they both hated school, it at least offered them a safe haven for seven hours of the day.
Helping Tom to his feet, Doug escorted him to the bathroom. Closing and locking the door, he sat a silent Tom down onto the closed toilet seat and set the faucets on the shower to as hot a temperature as was bearable. “Okay Tommy,” he said quietly.
When Tom made no effort to move, Doug squatted down next to his brother and gently lifted his bowed head. “Hey Tom, you need to take a shower.”
Tom’s eyes stared off into space, as though lost in a dream. Doug knew the signs. Tom’s mind had taken itself elsewhere as a coping mechanism to the abuse. With a sigh, he left his brother sitting and undressing, he stepped into the shower himself. Emerging ten minutes later, he saw that Tom’s eyes now appeared fully focused. Grabbing a towel, Doug wrapped it around his waist. “Your turn,” he said tenderly.
Tom stood up and dropping the sheet that had covered his nakedness, he revealed a body covered in welts and bruises of various shades and sizes. He walked into the shower and it was forty-five minutes before he emerged dripping from the steaming cubical. Having taken Tom’s place on the closed toilet, Doug handed him a towel and waited as he dried off. Giving Tom his toothbrush, he said, “I’m just gonna check…” before his voice trailed off. He did not need to finish the sentence, as Tom knew exactly what he was going to check. Doug poked his head cautiously out of the bathroom door, a waft of steam followed him as he tiptoed down the hallway and stopped outside of the last bedroom door. Pressing his ear to the wood, he heard a soft snoring from behind the closed door. With a sigh of relief, he hurried back to the bathroom. “He’s asleep. C’mon, we need to dress and get out before he wakes up.”
Both boys moved silently down the hallway and into Tom’s room. Doug waited as his brother dressed, the familiar bandanna tied firmly around his wet hair. Once finished, they crept to Doug’s bedroom and the elder McQuaid brother quickly dressed in the cleanest clothes he could find. Treading softly, they moved downstairs. Doug opened the refrigerator, then the pantry and after a cursory glance in both, he reluctantly concluded that they would have to forgo breakfast. Grabbing their school bags, they walked out of the house, softly closing the door behind them.

**
Sitting in the Principal’s office, both boys felt uncomfortably conspicuous. They were well aware that their dirty, worn clothing screamed poverty. A target for bullies since Elementary School, when their mother had suddenly passed away from a brain aneurysm, they had deflected the taunts of their fellow students by building up tough exteriors. It did not take long for most pupils to become terrified of the McQuaid brothers, especially of Doug, who was fiercely protective of his younger brother. Known for their street smarts and formidable fighting abilities, most of their fellow classmates gave them a wide birth unless they were looking to score drugs or alcohol. It had been a well-known fact in their last school that the McQuaids could get you whatever you wanted, as long as you had the money to buy. No one wanted to owe either a boy a dime, as doing so could easily cost you a broken limb.
With a hint of distaste, Principal Elizabeth Hammond glared at the newest charges to her school. Both boys sat sullenly staring off into space. With a loud, disgruntled sigh, she addressed the younger of the two students, “Thomas McQuaid, in future I expect you to come to school without visible bruising. Fighting is not tolerated in my school, do you understand?”
Doug’s fists clenched in anger as Tom muttered a barely audible, “Yes’m.”
“Speak up!” Principal Hammond instructed impatiently.
“Yes MA’AM!” Tom barked, his eyes blazing with unbridled hatred.
Closing the folder on her desk, Principal Hammond stood up, her demeanor terse. “I’ll have no cheek from you, Mister McQuaid. I run a tight ship at this school and if I hear any talk about you boys misbehaving, I will expel you both, no questions asked. Am I making myself understood?”
Doug stood up and stared at the Principal with unconcealed loathing. “Perfectly,” he replied quietly and nudging his brother, both boys walked out.

**
Tom’s last class before lunch was English. Walking into the classroom, he found a desk at the rear and opening up his notebook, he began to sketch, effectively ignoring the teachings of Adam Fuller who was attempting to regale the class with a reading from J. D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye.
“Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them, if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry."
Hearing the words, Tom’s hand stilled. He lifted his head and stared at the teacher. Seeing at least one interested student, Adam checked his class roll for the name of his newest class member. “Ah, Thomas McQuaid, I see I have struck a chord with you. Would you care to share your thoughts on what Mr. Antolini is attempting to say to Holden Caulfield.”
Twenty pairs of eyes turned to stare at Tom. Immediately uncomfortable at being the center of attention, Tom dropped his gaze, as his hands clenched into fists. Adam Fuller walked to the back of the room and standing next to his newest pupil’s desk he spoke enthusiastically, “I would love to hear what you have to say Thomas, I value my student’s thoughts and interpretations. That is what makes English such a wonderful subject to teach. All opinions are valid.”
Lifting his head slightly, Tom murmured softly, “It’s not Thomas, it’s Tom.”
Mr. Fuller smiled broadly. “Pleased to meet you Tom, I’m Adam Fuller.” Looking down, he spied Tom’s artwork. “A budding Rembrandt I see,” he said, his tone impressed as he studied the emerging portrait of his own face. “But this is English Tom and I would appreciate your full attention during class.”
Tom nodded and quickly closed his sketchbook. He gave the teacher a half smile that immediately faded when he caught Adam examining his battered face. He quickly ducked his head, embarrassed at the scrutiny. Fuller remained silent for several more seconds, before walking away and continuing his recitations. Tom breathed a grateful sigh and folding his arms on his desk, he rested his chin and half listened to the class’s lively discussion of Salinger’s novel. When the bell sounded, he grabbed his bag, eager to make his escape and catch up with Doug. But Fuller called out his name and with a groan, Tom walked over to the teacher’s desk.
Closing his book, Fuller sat on the edge of his desk and gave Tom a friendly smile. “Have you read Catcher in the Rye?”
Tom shook his head. He did not possess a love of books, as he struggled beyond a fourth grade reading level. It was not that he did not want to read, it was just that it now completely overwhelmed him. More than anything, he wished he had the ability to write a story to accompany his drawings. But his and Doug’s lives had changed irrevocably when Emma McQuaid had passed away. Their father transformed almost overnight from a hard working, charming and caring man to a violent, drunken tyrant, the loss of his beloved Em seemingly too much to bear. Both boys’ education had suffered as a result of their growing neglect and abuse. Doug, at only eleven years of age, had taken his younger brother under his wing. He would readily throw himself in their father’s line of fire in an effort to spare Tom a beating. But when the sexual abuse started, Doug found it increasingly difficult to deflect their father’s growing obsession with Tom. Increasingly, the boys spent fewer nights at home, preferring to sleep rough in the local park or under the Hamlin Bridge.
Adam Fuller handed his copy of the book to Tom. “You’ll need to catch up if you’re going to do well on the midterm.” Seeing Tom’s reluctance, Adam spoke kindly, “Look, I don’t want you to miss out on your lunch so maybe you could meet me after school for a chat. Is that okay?”
Tom could not think of a worse scenario. He preferred to fly under the radar, not have teachers singling him out for special treatment. Because of his and Doug’s disruptive tendencies, most teachers favored assigning the boys grades they had not earned in preference to having them back in their classroom the following year. In essence, their academic inadequacies had slipped through the system unnoticed. Now it appeared Mr. Fuller was about to discover just how illiterate Tom really was. Of course, he could blow off the meeting but he could not dodge his English teacher forever. With a resigned sigh, Tom took the offending book. “Sure Mister F, whatever.”
With a frown creasing his brow, Adam Fuller silently watched Tom as he left the classroom.

**
Sitting alone at an outside table, Doug scowled when he saw Tom. “Where’ve you been?” he asked irritably, throwing a wrapped sandwich at this brother. “I’ve been waiting ages.”
Catching the package, Tom sat across from his brother. “English teacher kept me back, he seems the nosey type. Where’d you get the food?”
Doug grinned wickedly. “I dunno, some rich kid over there. Figured we needed it more than him. So tell me about this teacher, is he gonna be a problem?”
Ripping hungrily into his sandwich, Tom grinned back happily, his mouth full of food. “Nah, he wants to see me after school for a chat but don’t worry, it’s under control, I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
Doug stared sadly at his brother. For most of their lives, they had kept silent about their home life. Neither boy wanted to consider the alternatives, which would be either state care or a foster home. Terrified of being split up they endured their father’s wrath so that they could stay together. It was the old saying, better the devil you know. At least they knew what to expect from their father.
Four boys suddenly surrounded their table, pulling Doug from his reflections. “Hey McQuaid,” the largest of the four addressed Tom. “Nice hat.”
“It’s a fuckin’ bandana you moron,” Tom spat back, tossing his sandwich wrapper to the ground and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
Doug stood up, effectively towering over the tenth graders. “You got something to say, you say it to me capeesh?”
The boy stood his ground, spurred on by his mates. “What? Little Tommy can’t fight his own battles? You don’t scare me McQuaid. You and your brother are just poor, white trash and you can’t lay a finger on me, ‘cause the minute you do, my Dad’ll sue your worthless ass.”
Tom watched on with a bored expression as Doug leaned over the table and poked the boy in the chest. “Try it asshole and I’ll break every bone in your fuckin’ body,” he threatened menacingly.
Doubt washed over the boy’s face and he turned to his friends for support, only to find uncertainty and fear on each of their faces. Laughing loudly to disguise his growing apprehension, the boy clapped one of his friends on the shoulder. “C’mon fellas, they ain’t worth it.” The group hurried away, each one hoping against hope that no one had witnessed their dismal attempt at a showdown.
Tom stood up and reaching down, he picked up his discarded wrapper and threw it into a nearby trashcan. “Well, that was bracing,” he said sarcastically as he wiped his hands on his worn jeans.
Doug did not return Tom’s amused look. He was tired of always being the outcast, no matter where they went to school. Neither boy had friends, their only companionship was with each other. Doug loved Tom with all his heart but he was envious of his peers. He wanted invitations to parties like other teenagers his age. He wanted to hang out at the mall in a group, wolf whistling at the girls who walked by. He wanted to play pinball in the arcade whilst his mates cheered him on. He knew Tom must feel some of what he felt but his brother’s personality was more reserved, probably due to the abuse and he seemed generally happy to have just Doug as his friend. Shaking his head slightly, Doug pulled himself together. It did no good to wish. Their life was what it was, end of story. Wishing for it to be different only caused more heartache.
A bell signaled the end of lunch. Walking towards the main building, Doug grabbed Tom’s arm, holding him back. Tom stared back quizzically, aware that something was troubling his older brother. “What is it?” he asked as noisy teenagers pushed past them.
“Just be careful of this teacher,” Doug muttered in Tom’s ear. “We don’t want the authorities on our case.”
Tom nodded. As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, “Meet me in the park after school and get beer.”
Doug raised a hand in acknowledgement and disappeared into the crowd.
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What Is and What Should Never Be