Disclaimer: Nope, don't think I own anything
Rating: T, for teen... Just some very, very, very, very, minor violence and maybe one swear word
Warning: Slash
Pairing: Doug/Tom, with Dennis going for Tom, lol... You know how that will end up...
Summary: On Halloween, Doug decides to play a joke on Tom. The only problem? He gets Dennis in on it and things take a turn for the worse.
"Come on Doug!" Tom half whined, half begged, jutting out his lower lip. "You can't send me down there alone. As in by myself. Alone," Tom ended, stressing the second alone.
"Yeah, I know what it means," Doug replied harshly. "And you can't describe alone as meaning alone; it doesn't make sense."
"I was making a point," Tom replied, glaring at his partner. "And seriously man, I'm not supposed to go off by myself, anyways."
"Why must you always refer to the rules?" Penhall asked, exasperated. He sighed dramatically, then continued in a more serious manner, "I'm claustrophobic! You know I can't go down there."
"IT'S NOT AN ENCLOSED SPACE!" Tom yelled loudly, startling the older man.
"Jeez, Hanson, chill out a second, huh?" Doug replied, annoyed at his partner's lack of concern.
"It's an alley, Doug. Claustrophobic means afraid of small spaces; small enclosed spaces."
"Yeah, but it is small. And dark," Doug tried to explain, glancing cautiously into the dark space.
"You're a police officer, Penhall. And I'm your partner."
"Exactly!" Doug explained. "Which means you should understand the issues I have with going down there. Because I'm not, unless I really, really have to."
"Doug," Tom replied slowly like he were speaking to a small child. "Our suspect ran down there. That should be a good enough reason."
"Please?" Doug asked, trying to imitate Tom's famous pout and doing a poor job.
"Damn it Doug," Tom replied, trying not to laugh at his lame attempt. "If you loved me you wouldn't-"
"Hey!" Doug yelped, cutting Tom off abruptly. "Don't even think about tryin' that on me, Tommy; I do love you, and technically, if you loved me, you would just say you understand and not let me go down there."
"I-" Tom started, but then realized Doug had actually made a pretty good point. "Fine," he replied, slightly angry but mostly in a joking manner. "I'll go. But if you hear me scream, I don't care how scared you are – you had better get your ass in there in five seconds or else."
"Five?" Doug replied. "I don't know if I could run that fast."
Tom laughed and hit Doug's arm lightly. "Fine, ten. Or else I'll think you've left me to go to Rocket Dog."
"I'm hurt!" Doug cried mockingly, pretending to grab at his heart. "How could you even think I would do such a thing?"
"Because you did it last week and I got knocked in the head with a basketball that some idiot thought would make a very good weapon at knocking me out with."
"Oh," Doug replied, a small smile forming on his lips. "Right, about that..."
"Just don't do it again," Tom replied, his own smile forming. "Because I might actually have to hurt you this time."
"I won't leave, I swear," Doug promised.
"Good." Tom turned and started to head towards the alley when he felt a tight grip on his arm, and then he was being turned back around so that he was once again face to face with his partner.
"I mean it Tommy. This time it's a serious situation, and I would never leave you alone if it were serious."
"Yeah, I know," Tom replied, blushing slightly. It felt odd that Doug was saying this to him, and he felt slightly embarrassed.
"Good," Doug replied, releasing Tom's arm to pull him into a tight hug. "I love you Tommy, I would never let you get hurt."
Tom didn't reply, just enjoyed the warmth that coursed through him at the sudden embrace; he was glad he and Doug were together, because he knew that Doug would always protect him, and that meant he that he felt safe with the other man. And he was with the other man most of the time, so he always felt safe.
"Now go fast, or else he'll be gone," Doug urged as he pushed the smaller man away from him. "We can continue this later. But now we have a job to do."
"We?" Tom questioned. "I'm the one goin' into a dark alley on Halloween just 'cause you think you saw our suspect, who, ironically, was wearing a black hoodie. So 'we' has nothing to do with this, just me," Tom explained, glancing into Penhall's eyes with bemused annoyance as he spoke.
"Whatever," Doug muttered. "Just go already."
"Jeez, pushy," Tom replied as he turned and started to walk away. "See ya soon. Hopefully," he added as he turned around slightly, and grinned at Doug. "And remember, ten seconds. Any later, I swear you're dead."
Doug laughed as he watched the younger man walking cautiously towards the dark entrance between Dave's Donuts and Ned's Novels. Once Tom had vanished inside the alley like a black-hole sucking in space debris the older man turned and headed towards his boyfriend's car. It was cold outside and if things went according to plan then he wouldn't have to worry about Tom for at least ten minutes. Probably longer, but most likely not sooner. Doug climbed into the welcoming warmth of the vehicle, staring at the alley's entrance with amusement. For now, though, he would just have to wait.
Tom glanced around nervously, trying to adjust hs vision to the dim light. The moon was half covered by clouds and barely any light was shining into the alley. And he figured that light would be essential if you were tracking a (possible) suspect into a darkening abyss such as the one he was in. Tom suddenly laughed as his mind conjured up the term 'darkening abyss'. When he thought about it, it was pretty creepy considering it was Halloween and he had just spent the previous night watching horror movies. And now he was paranoid, afraid that some type of demonized skeleton was going to jump out at him when all he really had to look out for was the person who Doug had assumed was their suspect. And who had apparently come down this alley. Tom stopped, trying to think. Had he actually seen the suspect? Had he seen somebody enter the alley? He had seen a hooded figure that he had Doug had been trailing in his Mustang, but he had disappeared and Tom had not seen him since. He had thought that their 'suspect' was gone until Penhall had pointed out that he had run down this alley. A shuffling noise to his right that sounded a lot like somebody – or something – moving made Tom jump. Maybe Doug had been right. He had been right and now their suspect was going to attack Tom and all Tom had was a flashlight that didn't work because his argument with Doug earlier had made him forget that his gun was lying on the backseat inside his car. Great. Tom Hanson was going to die in a dark alley on Halloween. Pretty damn ironic. The noise came again and the young officer turned, holding his flashlight up in the air ready to strike. Except there was nothing there except for a trash can. What the-
A flash of something and Tom went reeling backwards as something hit him across the cheek. He crashed into the wall, breathing heavily, a shallow clatter echoing around him as his flashlight rolled away. Then came the shuffling again and his breathing picked up speed because he hadn't seen it but he had heard it and he had felt it and -
Meeoww
It was just a cat. He had been attacked by a cat. Tom started laughing shallowly. He had thought the cat was some kind of skeleton sent from Hell to kill him. He was never going to stay up late watching horror movies again. Or at least he wouldn't go into dark alleys the day after. The cat mewed again and Tom looked down, trying to find it. All he saw were glowing spots of yellow, seeming to float in the air like fireflies. He squinted slightly, and his focus changed enough so that he could see the slight outline of the creature, which was, ironically, a black cat. He had been attacked, on Halloween, by a black cat, in a dark alley. Next time Doug was going into the alley, no matter how claustrophobic he was.
"Alright, you had your fun," Tom muttered at the cat. "Now get outta here. And don't do that again."
The cat kept staring, its gaze focused on Tom, as if saying, I was here first, you leave. Except Tom couldn't leave because he had a job to do first. The cat would just have to deal with him until then.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Tom muttered, heading off again. His right shoulder throbbed slightly from its painful greeting with the brick wall but he ignored it; it would heal eventually.
"Damn it," he muttered as he tripped and stumbled forward, his knees making the same painful greeting as his shoulder had previously. "Stupid black cat and its damn bad luck," he muttered, fumbling around for the object he had tripped over. He couldn't find it and gave up, instead opting to regain his original composure. His knees protested as he stood and stretched his legs, trying to ease the burning pain in his probably scraped knees away. It didn't work and he sighed. Halloween was officially his second most hated holiday. And he had a feeling his night was only going to get worse.
Doug stared out the window, bored. Maybe he should have thought up a prank that would be more amusing and less boring for him. Then again, Tom was going to be scared and that would be pretty funny for Doug when his lover tried to explain the situation to him. Tom had been gone for five minutes already, though, and Doug had figured that within ten minutes he would reemerge, looking around for his partner – who he would probably extremely pissed off at. However, Doug knew he could handle the younger man and had set up the joke so that it would (hopefully) work out that way. If it didn't then he would have to keep his distance and not go near Tom for a long time. Now he was bored, though, and wished that Tom would just come out of the alley already so he could go home. Maybe next time he would just set up something to jump out at Tom while they were at home. For now, though, he would just have to wait.
Tom continued forward, slightly limping, into the alley, groaning as it became darker with each step. Why couldn't he have lost something that he didn't need? Then again, it was Halloween: Why wouldn't your flashlight disappear while you are traveling down a dark alley? Except Tom was not very happy at the circumstances. The throbbing twang twang of pain shooting through his knee was starting to indicate a badly cut and swollen joint which seemed to tighten like a screw with every step Tom took. Soon enough he would probably have no use of the limb at all. Unless he tried to straighten it out now, which he knew could result in an worse injury. So for now, he was going to just leave it alone. Onward he went, continuing to jump at every slight sound, becoming more and more worried with each step. It was starting to become eerily quiet, and Tom didn't trust the silence. Especially not on Halloween. He tried to blame his rising unease on the previous night's horror-movie marathon except it just wasn't working. The young officer's police instincts were kicking in and he knew that something was wrong. And he figured that that 'wrong' had something to do with the hooded figure Doug had claimed ran into the alley. The very alley that Tom now found himself walking through. Maybe going in there alone wasn't a very good idea.
"Damn Doug and his stupid phobia," Tom muttered under his breath, intent on turning and walking right out of the alley. Once out, he would grab his gun and Doug and then, only then, would he feel safe reentering the damn alley.
Tom stopped suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. He had heard something behind him, and that something had resembled light footsteps.
"OhcrapohcrapthatbetterjustbeDougohcrapoh-" Tom started to think when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, nails biting into the flesh underneath the thin fabric of his shirt.
"Forgot to check behind the dumpster."
Tom froze at the voice, cold and hard, realizing that whoever was behind him was definitely not his boyfriend.
"I, uh, forgot," Tom replied with a small laugh, stopping when the grip on his shoulder became tighter and he was forced to the ground. He groaned as his injured knee dug into the loose gravel, cursing Doug and his stupid phobia yet again.
"Yeah, oops," the man behind Tom replied with sardonic sarcasm. The tone seemed eerily familiar to Tom, however, he just pushed it to the back of his mind, too scared to worry about it.
"C'mon man, just let me go. My partner, he's back there, and he'll come lookin' for me," Tom replied, trying to buy time. If he was in here for longer than what Doug expected was needed, he would come looking for his partner. All Tom had to do was buy time with the guy before he decided to do anything irrational. For now, though, he would just have to wait.
Doug watched the entrance to the alley, very annoyed and very bored. Tom should have come out by now, except he hadn't. Doug sighed impatiently, wondering if maybe what he had done had been a bad idea. Except it was just a harmless prank; what could go wrong? The older officer couldn't think of anything so he sighed again and started drumming his fingers on the dashboard. It was too quiet in the car. He wanted to listen to music except Tom had the keys. No keys, no music. Next year Doug was definitely just going to get Tom to dress up. Nothing else, and definitely not something that involved him sitting in an eerily silent car in the dark on Halloween night. It was boring and way too quiet. He to go looking for Tom except he knew that that could ruin everything. For now, though, he would just have to wait.
"Let you go?" the man asked, his tone bitter and filled with malice. "Now why would I do that?"
Tom felt something cold press into his neck gently and he shivered. If the guy wanted to kill him, he would have already. So why hadn't he?
"What do you-" Tom cut off with a hitch in his breath as the blade pierced his skin, allowing tiny droplets of red to dribble down his neck like rain.
"Oops, my bad," the man replied in a sneering manner. "Musta slipped."
"Oh yeah, it slipped," Tom muttered bitterly. "What the Hell do you want anyways?"
The man laughed and something else clicked in Tom's brain; that laugh seemed familiar. It seemed familiar like that sardonic sarcasm. Except this also drifted away to the back of his mind, becoming locked away with so many other forgotten memories or familiar tones. Tom had no need to worry about something that he could have heard on television; being held at knife point was more serious than the fact that some laugh reminded him of Laurel and Hardy or some other random show.
"I don't know. Got sent down here to scare you, I guess," the man replied. The first part was spoken in that cold tone, however, it slowly faded away into a voice that Tom could place at any given moment.
"Booker?" Tom choked out. "What the Hell are you-"
Got sent down here to scare you...
The comment floated through Tom's mind and he groaned in annoyance. "This was Doug's idea, wasn't it?"
Booker laughed and released his grip on Tom. "Maybe, maybe not," he replied casually. "Makes you wonder why he sent you down here alone, though, doesn't it?"
"Oh yea, it does," Tom mumbled, starting to stand. His injured leg protested the movement and the limb crumpled under Tom's weight, forcing the younger man back down to the ground. "Damn
whatever the Hell I tripped over," he muttered angrily. "Damn Doug, and damn you Booker, and damn Halloween and-"
"Whoa Tommy, settle down, it was just a joke," Booker cut in, resting a hand gently on Tom's shoulder.
"Just a joke?" Tom spat out viciously, twisting his head around slightly so that he could look at Dennis. "Just a joke? You nearly cut my throat open, man. I'm bleedin'! How is that a joke?"
"Uh..."
"Yeah, exactly," Tom replied. "Now you gonna help me up or just stand there trying to make all this funny?"
Booker laughed slightly, then quickly shut up upon seeing the death glare that Tom was sending his way. "Alright, alright, it's not funny," he replied, wrapping a hand around Tom's wrist and pulling him to his feet. The older man stumbled slightly as a sharp pain shot through his knee and he hissed. "What the Hell did I land on anyways? Fuck, dropping my bowling ball on my foot didn't even hurt as bad."
Dennis glanced at Tom, a smirk forming. "You bowl?" he asked casually, draping an arm around the other officer's neck to help steady him. "I mean, it makes sense, with you being all..." Dennis trailed off as Tom glared at him. "What?" he asked innocently. "At least you play a sport. I thought you didn't, but hey, bowling's, uh, interesting."
"Just shut up," Tom muttered. "Or else I'll drop it on your foot next."
"Geez, just tryin' to start a conversation here, Tommy-boy. You don't gotta be so, so, you."
"Oh well excuse me for not liking the guy who just held a knife to my throat."
"Whatever," Booker replied. "Let's just leave before Doug thinks I killed you."
"Almost did," Hanson muttered under his breath as Dennis started to guide them out of the alley. The older man had to limp slightly, mostly because of his injured knee, and also because Dennis was taller. It was a hard task and it took them ten minutes to get out. Once they were out, Tom collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily.
"Damn it," he muttered. "Halloween officially sucks."
Dennis laughed beside him, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. You're just upset 'cause me and your beau were able to scare you."
"No," Tom replied, watching in disgust a Dennis placed a cigarette in his mouth and proceeded to light it. "I'm pissed at you for doin' that. And those things could kill you you know."
"So what, be mad," Dennis replied casually as he removed the smoke and exhaled a puff of smoke. "I had fun."
"Course you did. You're a very sick and twisted man, Dennis Booker."
Booker laughed at this comment, flicking ashes to the ground. "So maybe I am. I got no problem with it."
Hanson sighed in annoyance and Dennis smirked, exhaling another wisp of gray. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "And yeah, they can kill me," he spoke up with a seriousness that peaked Tom's curiosity. "But if they don't, somethin' else will, right?"
Tom laughed in annoyance, staring intently at Booker. "Yeah, sure, that's one way to look at it."
"No," Booker stated firmly. "That's how I look at it."
Tom made to reply except Dennis beat him to the talking. "Your beau's comin' for ya, Tommy-boy. Time to stop beratin' me on my health choices, now."
Tom glared at the younger man before turning his attention towards the sound of oncoming footsteps. "Dam you Doug Penhall," he said as a way of greeting his boyfriend once he was close enough to hear.
"C'mon Tommy, it couldn't have been that bad. He was just scarin' ya."
"Doug, he held a knife to my throat. Please tell me that that-"
"A knife?" Doug spoke up, cutting off Tom. "You pulled a knife on him?" Doug was now staring at Dennis, anger flashing dangerously in his eyes. "What the Hell is your problem?"
"What?" Dennis asked, adding to the small pile of burnt paper on the ground. "I was supposed to scare him, and I did."
"Using a knife?" Doug glared at Booker in disgust, hate burning in his eyes like a wildfire. "You're crazy, man. Remind me to never leave you alone with my boyfriend again. You might kill him."
Dennis laughed at this, throwing his now used cigarette to the ground. "Okay, Douggie," he replied with that familiar sardonic sarcasm. "I will, but only if I don't wanna be alone with him, okay?"
Doug lashed out, grabbing onto Dennis and pushing him against the wall. "Screw you man. I mean, I thought I could trust you. Guess I was wrong, though, huh?"
"Guess so," Booker replied, sneering at Doug. "Guess you just better keep Tommy boy close to you, then. Never know who might sneak up on him."
Doug glared at Dennis once more, then let him go. "If that's a threat, then I guess I should."
Doug walked away then, looking towards Tom. The younger man was standing where he was before, except now he was staring at Doug with disgust and fear. He was no longer mad at Doug, because he knew that his boyfriend would have never allowed him to get hurt. It had all been Booker. He was mad at Booker, and disgusted.
"You okay Tommy? I saw you limping."
Doug's voice broke through Tom's thoughts and he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "Oh, I fell, hurt my knee pretty badly. It was just hard to walk for a bit."
"Oh," Doug replied, glancing downwards at Tom's legs. Both knees of his jeans were torn, except the left was bigger, and he could see red.
"Let's just go, then we'll look at it when we get home, 'kay?"
Tom nodded in agreement, glancing cautiously at Booker. Except the younger man was gone.
"Where'd he go?" Tom asked, jutting his thumb towards the spot Booker had recently been at.
"Who cares?" Doug replied, disgust laced into his tone. "God, Tommy, sorry about that, I really thought he was okay."
"Guess he's a good actor," Tom mumbled, starting to walk away, his limp not as bad as it was before; the pain was slowly fading and he found it easier to walk. "He had been fooled. A lot. And at different times."
"Yeah, guess so," Doug replied as he glanced around, trying to figure out how Dennis could have left without either himself or Tom knowing. Then again, it didn't matter; Dennis was gone and Doug was glad. And he was also going to be keeping a cautious eye on him in the future. If he had meant what he had said about Tom, then... For now, though, he would just have to wait.