Title: Emotional Troubles

Prompt: # 48 project

Characters/Pairings: Doug Penhall, Tom Hanson – starring as the ever lovable McQuaids. With tiny, subtle, undertones of slash.

Rating: G

Warnings: I say the f word in my author's note...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: Tom is having emotional troubles(ha ha), making him act out more than usual. Doug at first is worry but soon shrugs it off as Tom pretending for the McQuaid case they are on.

A/N: Alright, this story is not what I had wanted it to be. First off, I was trying to have no slash and now I think Doug likes Tom. Heh. And then it was supposed to be HAPPY. Well, yeah, the angst came and bit me in the ass and wouldn't let go until I added it to my story. Knda like my dog eating my leg when I didn't give him his food fast enough. Set during the 4th season, I guess, and after DtL, at least a month after(but before Last Chance High). The 2nd last time the McQuaids went undercover, then. And I don't care if I've completely fucked up the time line, either, because we can just pretend it works )

A/N 2: And apparently I can not write or edit or read worth anything when sick lol. Thanks to andaere for pointing out I had typos. I've gone through both chapters again and fixed what I saw. See any more, please tell me )

"Tommy!" Doug called out across the chapel excitedly, although his tone – one used while undercover as Doug McQuaid – had anger seeping throughout.

Tom looked up from where he sat atop Doug's desk, legs crossed and back against the wall. He had moved Doug's desk for the sole point of having a back rest. Pink showed through in the knees of his torn and worn jeans, the fabric tight against his thighs at his legs' locked positioning. "Yeah?" he asked casually, pushing his arms out behind him and sliding off of the desk with ease. Doug couldn't help but notice when Tom's lone t-shirt rode up slightly, revealing pale flesh and a tuft of brown. It was gone as quick as it had appeared though, shirt sliding back over to cover Tom's midsection as he stood at full height, pulling his sleeveless jeans jacket from off of Doug's desk.

"You were supposed to come pick me up at home," Doug stated simply, striding closer to the younger man, his own torn jeans rubbing at the flesh underneath as each step pulled the fabric tighter against his thighs. "And it's not like you to forget something like that."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Tom asked, slightly mad at Doug for assuming he should remember every little thing. "Besides, Doug," Tom added, stepping closer to the taller man. "You never said I had to pick you up."

Doug's breath hitched in his throat as he readied to speak, the proximity between his face and Tom's own short and very much evident in Doug's mind.

"Uh Doug?" Tom asked slowly, stepping back and giving back Doug that small amount of space he needed to be able to think. "You okay? You were looking at me funny."

"No, I'm fine," Doug muttered shakily, thoughts of himself and Tom doing things that he knew were impossible flashing throughout his mind. Letting out a shaky sigh as the images slowly drifted apart like dust in the wind, he looked towards Tom carefully, afraid the younger man would be able to read his thoughts if he looked too hard into the dark brown eyes. "Just trying to remember or not if I actually told you." Doug honestly couldn't remember asking Tom to pick him up that morning and realized that he hadn't; he had thought of it, yes, but had fallen asleep before he had had the chance to call up his friend and ask about the small favour.

"Well, you didn't," Tom replied, annoyed. "I do think I woulda remembered that, Doug."

"Yeah, that's true," Doug agreed with a small smile. "So, uh, guess we're late for school, huh?"

"Yeah, kinda," Tom said, making his way through the crowded chapel towards the only entrance – and exit – to the outside world, unless you counted the fire exit. And Tom doubted he could blame being undercover as Tommy McQuaid for setting off the fire alarm for no reason other than wanting to get outside faster. Doug followed beside the younger man, laughing.

"What?" Tom questioned, pushing past a man he knew had stolen Doug's yo-yo when Fuller had first set up the chapel to accustom to such a large crowd. The man glared at Tom, but the officer only glared back, which seemed to be enough to get the guy to continue walking without any confrontation. Or maybe he had left because Doug had been standing beside him the entire time and had set his own look of fierce intimidation in the direction of the man he hadn't remembered had stolen his yo-yo.

"You said we're kinda late, Tommy. I got up at like, 6.30 to get ready and waited until 8.45 for you. When you never showed up, I figured you had bailed." At Tom's look of annoyance easily proclaiming that Doug had not once told him pick him up, Doug added quickly. "But I never did tell you. I fell asleep before I could call you."

"Are you serious?" Tom exclaimed loudly. "I was ready to just give in and say I had forgotten because I thought maybe I actually had."

Tom headed off towards the door and Doug called loudly, "I wasn't finished!"

Tom ignored his partner as he continued throughout the large crowd, the closeness of the persons making him feel too claustrophobic. He needed the fresh air and the freedom as much as Doug normally did whenever stuck in an enclosed space. And Tom wasn't even claustrophobic: he just felt like it at that moment.

Doug let out an irritated sigh before following his friend through the crowd, which seemed to have lessened in the path Tom had taken in his hurried exit. He found Tom at the bottom of the steps, leaning against the wall and staring vacantly out into the parking lot, eyes fixated on an object Doug himself could not see.

"You okay?" Doug questioned gently, taking up his own stance at the wall, the brick harshly evident through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He had left his jacket at home in the rush of getting to work faster.

"Huh?" Tom replied absentmindedly, gaze never leaving that of which only he could see.

"Tommy," Doug spoke slowly and lightly. "Look at me, alright?"

"What?" Tom questioned, confusion in his tone as he slowly turned his gaze – curious now instead of blank – towards Doug.

"You okay?" Doug repeated now that he had Tom's attention. Or at least some of it, anyways.

"Yeah, 'course I am," Tom replied, a smile forming slowly. It was fake, and Doug could see straight through the younger man's mask. Tom could tell, too, that Doug hadn't bought his lie and he sighed deeply, gaze fluttering towards the dark ground below like a butterfly, eyes following along the many cracks worn into the cement over the years. "I'm sorry, Doug," he mumbled slowly. "It's just, being in jail, it sucked, ya know?"

"Hey, don't worry about it," Doug replied cheerily. "I mean we got you out, right?"

Tom did it, without thinking. He turned quickly so that he was facing Doug and then went forwards, grabbing at the older man and burying his head in his chest, tears already spilling forth from his eyes which were once again cast with a blank stare void of emotions. His hands found loosened bits of fabric and he pulled at them hard, the closeness to his best friend giving him every bit of protection and safety he feared he had lost when thrown into the darkened cells months earlier. Doug stepped forwards, surprised at the sudden contact, and without a second thought, wrapped his arms around Tom's smaller frame, relieved at the calmness this contact seemed to give Tom.

Tom's body relaxed slightly as Doug's arms wrapped around him, surprised yet relieved that Doug had done so. Because the young officer felt safe where he was, Doug's arm wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon, keeping Tom inside and all threats outside.

Tom suddenly began to push Doug away as their situation became more clear to him, embarrassment gaining control of all of his emotions and and making him feel ashamed at showing so much weakness.

"Hey wait," Doug began as he was pushed back lightly, Tom loosening himself from the grip quickly and backing away himself. "What's wrong? Are you okay?

"Of course I'm okay," Tom snapped harshly, rubbing at his eyes harshly to rid his face of the unwanted moisture. "Now let's go already; I think we've already missed first."

"So that's that?" Doug whispered, gazing at Tom thoughtfully. "I mean, you bolt outside like your ass is on fire and then freak out like that? Damn it Tommy, you were holding on to me so hard it was like you were afraid to let go."

"I'm not scared, Doug," Tom replied harshly, tone hardened with anger. "Now can we just go? I don't need Fuller riding us because we never got to school until lunch."