Bookers heart was racing as he pulled up to Hanson's apartment, the clock on his dashboard reading 2:23 am…. Something had to be wrong, something was definitely wrong. Without even bothering to knock he opened the door and frowned upon entering, an empty Jack Daniels bottle sat like a center piece on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Shaking his head he cleared his throat…. "Hanson!"

"Down er" Came a drunken slur from the kitchen.

Why couldn't he have called Penhall for this? Dennis thought to himself making his way into the kitchen and frowning when he saw Tom's chair over turned in the young man sprawled out against the cold tiles like a fish out of water phone and glass both still in hand. "What in the hell are you doing?" He frowned standing with his arms crossed over the man as a father would while disciplining his son.

"Oh hey Book…." Hanson blinked repeatedly before squinting his eyes, "What're you doing here?"

"You called me remember?"

"Ohhh… Yeah…"

"Now back to my first question, what the hell are you doing?"

"I thought I could reach the counter… but BOOM!" the drunk man hiccupped throwing his hands in the air. "I hit the floor like the ton of worthless bricks I am…"

"I should leave you down here and let you wallow in your pity…." Dennis mumbled picking the chair up before crouching down and lifting the other man up by his arm pits… "But unfortunately I can't…."

"You can." Hanson grinned looking up at him, "But you won't!" He wiggled one of his hands loose tapping Bookers cheek a few times lazily.

"Concentrate Hanson!" Dennis growled nearly dropping the other man and stumbling a little to catch his balance, "I need your help here…"

"I'm sorry…"

"No you're drunk man…" He grunted flopping him into the chair. "Can you sit in there…" His brow rose watching him wobble from side to side his head obviously about 30 pounds to heavy for his shoulders.

"My glass is empty." Hanson retorted as though he hadn't even been listening to a word said to him, his lips falling into a frown.

"And it's going to stay that way…. Hanson… Where's Penhall?" Dennis questioned

"I sent him away…."

"Why would you do that?"

"He doesn't understand…."

"Understand what?"

"So many hopes…. So much pushing…. Tom do this…." Hanson hiccupped "Tom do that…."

"Can you help me understand man?"

"I want him to let me give up…. It's simple as that… I'm no good now, defective… And he won't let me alone…"

"He cares about you…"

"He's pushing me…"

"Yes… because he cares about you…."

Hanson shook his head, "No one should care about me,… I'm a horrible cop and an even worse human being."

Booker rolled his head back and forth on his shoulders a frown reaching all the way from his lips to his forehead, Why hadn't Hanson called someone else…. Anyone else? Why did it have to be him? Looking in front of him at his pathetically saddened man he drew his lip into his mouth thinking carefully about what to say next… "That is not true, you are an amazing cop."

"I was…"

"You are- Or you will be again."

"Why do all of you keep saying that? It's over my career is done…."

"Only if you let it be."

"What fucking choice do I have man look at me!"

"I am looking at you…"

"But are you seeing me! Or are you just like everyone else who sees what I was…. What they still want me to be?"

"You're just drunk right now man, why don't we go get you into bed? I'm sure everything will be fine in the morning." Booker began pushing Hanson out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward his bedroom,

"You know what really ticks me off?"

"What's that?"

"They haven't caught the fuckers who did this to me… and they are not going to, and I'm going to have to look over my shoulder… Excuse me my wheelchair back for the rest of my life wondering if someone is coming up behind me to finish the job."

"No one is going to finish the job on you man, look around, you have so many people watching over you,… protecting you there is no way anything like this is going to happen again…" Dennis pulled the comforter down hoisting Hanson up out of the chair and down into the bed.

"Hey Booker?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your dad…. I mean when he was shot…. Did he worry about someone coming after him?"

Dennis froze his eyes growing big as quarters as he swallowed hard it was as though someone…. Something had taken all the air from him… the world around him twisting, spinning and turning…. "How- who told you - who told you about my father?"

"oops….Damn it!" Tom mumbled, if he weren't quite so drunk he was sure he would be embarrassed about his slip up.

"Hanson!"

"I-I read your jacket man… Don't be mad…. Penhall conned the clerk down in records for it… We were worried about you, you know you were acting weird and all…"

"Penhall was in on this too?" He inhaled deeply sitting down on the bed.

"We were worried about you!"

"Yeah, you said that part already."

"Well it's true… I made him do it… I thought that maybe if I knew what had happened to make you act this way… I could help… you know fix it some how."

Booker put his head in his hands without answering, running his fingers over his forehead and through his hair.

"We didn't mean to piss you off…."

A good minute and a half must have passed before he finally answered "You didn't piss me off." He looked up, "It's just that this is mine to deal with you know?"

"You've been dealing with it for over 10 years… don't you think maybe it's time to accept that you can't do it on your own?"

"I'm doing alright…"

"Dennis…"

"What? Like you're one to talk mister I drown my sorrows in booze!"

"It's only been 6 months for me!"

"6 months… 10 years, the amount of time that passes doesn't make a difference the pain is always going to sit in your stomach the memories so vivid you would swear it was only yesterday that it all happened…."

"So.. It wasn't just my accident that pushed all this to the surface then?" Hanson's brows rose in suspicion and he felt himself beginning to sober slightly with the topic of their conversation.

"Of course not.. Things like what happened to my dad… They never go away, I think that you know… When you got shot it just sort of made the memories more real if that makes any sense at all."

Tom nodded, "You know… I can still remember when they told me that my father was dead, all I kept thinking was this has to be a mistake, there is no way… this is a joke right? All those things that meant that the whole situation wasn't real… Trying to reassure myself that my dad was going to be alright." He paused for a minute, "But with you… with what happened to your father, to be given that false hope man, to think that he was going to be alright only to have it snatched away from you before you can blink an eye…I just- I can't imagine."

"It was rough… But uh- After a while although it still hangs around the pain dulls and you learn to live again… Which is what you need to do…."

"It's so hard though… I mean even getting out of bed takes Penhall's help I feel like an imbecile and no matter hoe bad I want it I can't seem to just fix everything."

"Bro, you are the hardest working man I know… You have to know that nothing in life comes free, that everything we get, everything we achieve comes at a price… and more often than not that price is hard work…."

"All I want is to be a cop again…"

"And you will be."

"I wish I was as sure as you…"

"You are, you just have to remember that you are…" Booker rose to his feet with a yawn. "Now.. It's almost four in the morning Hanson… I'm going to go home and you are going to sleep this off…"

"Sir, yes sir."

"Care to walk me out?"

"Piss off!" Hanson smirked closing his eyes.

"Oh and Hanson?"

"Hmmm?"

"You tell anyone about this and I'll break your face got it…"

"You don't want me to tell everyone that even you mister hard ass biker boy are capable of being nice when a friend is in need?"

"No. I have a rep to protect."

Thank you all for your wonderful feedback, I feel like this chapter is kind of boring but let me know what you think, also I think you will notice my spelling is better…. I got a program lol