Hanson sat staring at the door looking at the numbers as they all blurred into one. He'd got the call several hours previously, though it felt like a lifetime had passed. Doug was in the hospital. In a coma.
He hated hospitals, always had. He hated how people went in there alive and came out….
He faltered, not wanting to go off on that trail of thought.
Bullet wounds. Always bullet wounds.
Always protecting others. They all did it. The people he cared about. They always had to be the good guys and save ungrateful, selfish people. Why could they never save themselves?
His father had given his life protecting Charlie and a store clerk from an armed robber and now Doug…
Had Doug given his life in exchange for that pathetic excuse of a senator?
He remembered Joey's trembling voice on the phone, informing him that his brother Doug had prevented an assassination on the senator, in doing so, had taken a bullet to the head and drifted into a coma. He remembered his own reaction so clearly. How he had mumbled ok and then abruptly hung up the phone. How he had allowed the numbness to wash over him.
He sighed and closed his eyes, blinking back the tears which stung them threatening to overflow.
Why was Joey the only one who thought to tell him his best friend was in a coma? Why had none of the others thought to call and tell him? Judy or Harry? Fuller? What had made them think he wouldn't care?
He'd left Jump Street to pursue other dreams. He didn't want to be a cop, not anymore. He'd become disillusioned with the job ever since they'd placed him undercover in the Juvenile Lock up two years ago. God two years. He could remember it like it was yesterday and he would never forgive the department for putting him in that hell hole. The place that had shattered his dreams of black and white. The place which had reversed his ideas of good and bad. The place which had totally fucked Doug up for the longest time, had made him, Tom Hanson, right wing republican see that the rehabilitation centre for teens did anything but. What was the point of being a cop when your sole aim in life was to send kids into a place like that? He'd stuck it out another two years as an undercover cop but his heart was no longer in it.
He'd nearly fallen to pieces when they'd convicted him of Tower's murder. Locked up in prison. Stripped of his badge, reduced to nothing but a number, a degrading line of digits. Doug had got him out though. Doug had never wavered in his belief of Hanson's innocence. He'd lied on the witness stand for him. Doug who wouldn't lie even if his life depended on it had lied for Hanson. So why the hell was Hanson sitting out here crying like a child, instead of being at his best friend's bedside?
Because if he went in there, and had to see his pale, sleeping face staring back at him Hanson knew he would lose it. Knew that if he was faced with the possibility that Doug would never wake up, that he'd completely break. Knew that the pieces would never be rebuilt because the only person who could ever stick the fragile and fragmented pieces of Tom Hanson back together was Doug Penhall and if he was gone, Hanson might as well be dead himself because he couldn't exist alone. Not without Doug.
It had been like that ever since the pair had first met. They'd clicked in a way Hanson had never thought possible. Everything made sense with Doug. They could finish each other's sentences, knew when the other was upset, knew how to wind the other up and knew how to find each other even if nobody else did. Hanson had never forgot how when Doug had gone missing and half the department had been out looking for him, how he, Hanson, had known straight away to go to the playground. As if an invisible force had been drawing him there. Nor could he forget how Doug had hunted high and low for him when he took off running after he fired the warning shot and thought he'd killed Tower. How Doug was the only one who knew to go to Rocket Dog and rescue him from the abyss he felt himself drowning in.
They were partners. They were there for each other and Partners stuck together. No matter what.
Hanson dragged himself up from the luminous plastic chair and started towards the door. Doug needed him, now more than ever, and Hanson was going to make sure he was there waiting for him when he opened his eyes. He had to be. They were partners. Even if Hanson didn't want to be a cop anymore, he couldn't desert his best friend in his eleventh hour.
He choked back a sob as he pushed open the door. He wasn't prepared for the sight which unfolded itself before him. Doug was lying there swamped in wires and machinery which emitted loud and intimidating beeping noises. Bandages seemed to swamp his head and Hanson wanted to run. Run from this terrifying image of his friend, normally so strong and vibrant, looking so frail and vulnerable.
He tried his best to swallow his fear and with shaking steps made his way over to the chair beside his partner's sleeping form. He sunk into it and peered at his friends unconscious face. He looked peaceful, like he was sleeping.
" Wake up Doug" whispered Hanson. His voice came out in a croak. It'd been a long time since he'd spoken aloud to anyone. Could Doug even hear him in his comatose state?
" You're an idiot Penhall. An idiot you hear me?!" he cried allowing his anger to seep out, " How could you be so stupid? Why did you have to play the hero? WHY YOU ALWAYS GOTTA GO DO THAT? People need you Doug! You've got Clavo now, Joey just came back and now, n-now…NOW YOU'RE JUST GONNA LEAVE HIM? Did you even think about that when you leapt in front of that stupid bullet?!"
" You cant leave Doug" he continued his voice softer, " Clavo needs you, and Joey-"
He faltered.
" I need you Doug" he whispered finally, his voice trembling, as the tears spilled from his eyes. He gave a groan of anguish, dissolving into soft sobs. He reached out and took his friend's limp and lifeless hand in his own giving it a gentle squeeze as hot tears trickled down his face landing there in droplets, like rain.
This was where he vowed to stay, waiting until he felt the reassuring squeeze of life, of hope, that he was sure he would get to feel. He would wait til the end of eternity for Doug Penhall.
He was going to wake up.
He had to.
For both their sakes.
Clutching his hand, Hanson looked down at him and wonder how the hell they had ended up like this. Lost in the memories, he sat painstakingly waiting for the moment he felt so sure would occur. He sat and waited for Doug's eyes to flicker open.
He'd always believed in the saying " Good things come to those who wait"
And Tom Hanson was prepared to wait as long as it took.