Language warning in this one too…Here's an extra treat..2 chapters in one day. Gosh, I love this creative streak I'm on.

Chapter 7 Meeting Mr. Hanson

Tom watched as Doug's yellow pickup truck pulled into the gas station. As he opened the passenger door and climbed in, Doug took a closer look at his partner.

"Are you drunk?" Doug stated.

"Shut up Doug." Tom said, running his hand through his hair. "It's been a very long night and I don't need a lecture from you, okay?"

"Hanson, you're a cop! How stupid could you be to get behind the wheel when you've been drinking?" Doug couldn't help the anger that was creeping into his voice. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"I wasn't thinking, okay?" Tom yelled back. "So what? I'm not the perfect Tom Hanson that everyone expects me to be. God, why is it that everyone can make a fucking mistake except me?" With that, Tom climbed out of the truck and slammed the door. He began walking back towards the highway.

Doug sighed and got out of the truck. He ran to catch up to his partner and put a hand on his arm, pulling slightly to stop him. "You know, you're lucky that no one was hurt. I just can't believe that you of all people would get in a car and drive after you've been drinking."

Tom turned around and looked at Doug for a moment. He could feel all his pent up anger returning and before he knew what was happening, his fist came up and punched Doug in the face.

Doug was caught off guard by this action and stumbled back. He was surprised again as another fist made contact with his stomach. Anger took over and he returned a punch that landed square on Tom's cheek. Tom staggered back a bit, only to be knocked to the ground by Doug's tackle. The two exchanged a few more punches before Doug finally spoke.

"What the hell is the matter with you man?" he said, wiping some blood from his lip.

Tom wrapped an arm around his middle and sat up. He hung his head and kept quiet.

"Come on Tommy, what's going on?" Doug asked. "All this isn't like you."

Tom sighed and looked up at his friend. "I'm sorry Doug. I really am." His hand went to his lip to wipe the blood from it. "I have to tell you something, but it's going to sound crazy."

Doug stood up and held out a hand to help Tom up. "Okay, you know that you can tell me anything. I'm listening."

Tom ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "My…my dad's alive."

"Tom, I thought we went through this already." Doug said.

"Doug, he's alive. He's back at my apartment." Tom said, the frustration evident in his voice.

"What?" Doug began. "I thought he was killed on the job."

"Yeah, so did I." Tom said.

"Well, what's going on?" Doug asked.

"I don't know. I hit him and threw a bottle of whiskey at him before I took off." Tom said.

"Oh." Doug said. "You didn't ask him what was going on?"

Tom shook his head. "He tried, but I didn't give him a chance. I was just so angry and I left."

Doug was quiet, thinking about the information that he had just heard. He walked over to his friend and put an arm around his shoulder. "Come on, I'll give you a lift over to your apartment and we'll get the mustang tomorrow." Tom nodded his head and followed him to the truck.

"I'm really sorry about hitting you Doug." Tom said.

Doug rubbed his chin and smiled. "It's okay. Although, I think your right hook is getting a lot better."

Tom laughed and got in the truck. "Shut up Doug."

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Doug pulled the truck into a spot in front of Tom's apartment building. They both sat there after the engine had been shut off. Doug was the first to speak.

"You want me to come in for a bit?" he asked. "You know, in case he's still there?"

"No, I'd better do this on my own. I'll see you tomorrow at the chapel." Tom said, opening the door. "Thanks again, Doug."

Doug smiled, "No problem."

Tom closed the truck door and made his way up to the entrance of the building. Looking back, he waved as Doug pulled away and drove off. Let's get this over with, he said to himself as he let himself into the building. Tom climbed the stairs and paused at his front door. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and entered the apartment. He took off his worn leather jacket and hung it up on the hook by the front door. He made his way into the living room and was half surprised to find his father there, sitting on the couch.

"Hi sport." His father said calmly.

"You're still here." Tom said. He took a seat on the chair facing his father.

"Tommy, please let me explain." His father began, only to have Tom cut him off.

"Explain?" Tom asked. "How the hell do you explain letting us believe that you were dead?"

Tom Hanson Sr. hung his head. Looking up at his son, tears were beginning to well up in his eyes. "I had no choice Tommy. I didn't want to leave you and your mother."

"Then why the hell did you do it?" Tom yelled. "Mom cried herself to sleep every night for a year. I laid in bed at night listening to her, not knowing how to help her. It killed me to watch her go down the hole after you died."

"What about you?" his father asked. "How did you handle it?"

Tom laughed. "How the hell do you think I handled it? I lost my father when I was sixteen. When I joined the academy, everyone compared me to you. Do you know how hard it was to live up to that reputation? I had to prove myself at everything. I was Tom Hanson's son and I had to be perfect. I had to make you proud. Do you have any idea what that was like?" Tom was yelling at this point and his body began to shake with emotion.

"I'm so sorry Tommy." His father said sadly. "I had no idea how hard this would be on you. I should have never come here." Tom Hanson Sr. stood up and walked towards the door.

"You're getting really good at walking out aren't you?" Tom said. "Do you enjoy this game?"

Tom Hanson Sr. turned around and faced his son. "It was never a game Tommy. I didn't leave because I wanted to."

"So you keep saying." Tom said. He thought for a moment before adding, "Are you going to tell me why you left? I think you owe me at least that much."

Tom Hanson Sr. sighed and returned to his seat on the couch. "Yeah, I guess I do." He rubbed a hand over his face and began his story. "Charlie and I had been assigned to track down a major drug pusher out in the west end of the city. We had been on the case for over eight months when we finally had a huge break in the case. We had stumbled across a supplier by the name of Mark Thompson. He had shops set up all over the country, with his main supply coming in from Cuba. Well, we set up a sting operation in the west end to catch this guy in the act. The FBI and DEA were even in on it. This guy was a player and he wasn't going to be taken down easily."

"So, you caught this guy?" Tom asked.

"We had everything set up to make a major buy one night out at the docks. The place was surrounded by FBI and DEA. I was going in to make the buy when one of Mark's associates made me for a cop. Seems I had busted him a few years ago for possession. Anyway, things got heated and a shootout took place. His guys ended up killing twelve officers that night. Mark got away and the DEA and FBI decided that it was too risky for me to go back home. They came up with the story that Charlie and I were in that diner that night and it was just a random robbery. I left that night in the witness protection program."

Tom was confused. "What about Charlie? Why wasn't he part of the program?"

"Charlie never went in that night. Mark wanted to seal the deal with me only, so Charlie was out in the car as backup."

"Charlie knew about this the whole time?" Tom asked.

Tom Sr. nodded his head. "Yeah, sport. He did."

Tom stood up, anger creeping back into his body. "He was the one who sat me down and explained everything to me. He told me that you took a bullet in that coffee shop and never made it out of the emergency room. He stood right there and lied to me."

"Tommy, Charlie couldn't tell you anything. It was so hard on him to have to tell you and your mom that story." Tom Sr. said. "If he would have told you the truth, Mark and his men could have come after you and your mom. He couldn't put you in that kind of danger." He looked up at his son. "I couldn't put you guys in that sort of danger."

Tom stood up and went to the door. "Okay, you've told me your story." He looked his father straight in the eyes, anger still filling his entire being. "Now you can leave."

"Tommy…" Mr. Hanson started. "I never wanted to hurt you. I just had to see you and make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, well…as you can see I'm just peachy." Tom opened the door and motioned for his dad to leave. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Tom Hanson Sr. paused for a moment as he passed his son. His hand brushed his son's cheek. "I love you Tommy." With that, he stepped past his son and left the apartment.

Tom closed the door and slid down the wall until he reached the floor. He let out a shaky breath, as the tears could no longer be held back.

"I love you too Dad." He whispered.