Warning: Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression,sucidal thoughts– and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. :-PIf you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

Disclaimer: As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

Spee - :hugs: Luv ya! And I'll be as evil as ever, you can bet

Chapter 2

Hanson sat down on his couch and drew his knees up to his chest. The television was on, but he was so lost in his own head he didn't hear much more than an electronic buzz. After a few minutes, he realized that the sound was actually the apartment's buzzer. He spent another minute debating whether he wanted to pretend he wasn't home, then heard Booker's voice. "I know you're home, man. Let me in."

Tom spent another minute deciding whether to ignore him or not, but finally realized Dennis was more likely to kick in his door than walk away, and he wasn't keen on the idea of having to explain that to his landlord. He rose stiffly – must have been sitting there longer than he'd thought – and made his way to the door. Opening it, he stood in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

He stood still for a moment, meeting the other man's dark eyes, then nodded and took a couple steps backward. "Yeah, sure."

Booker closed the door behind him and Hanson retreated to the couch. Sitting back down, he picked up the remote and considered for a moment whether he wanted to turn the volume up or down, and ended up switching it off. "What are you doing here?"

"Fuller told us what happened," Dennis said quietly.

"Terrific."

"Hey." Booker walked toward him, kneeling down in front of him, and reached a hand out.

"Don't touch me." For some reason, the idea of Dennis's touch made him feel dirty, sick.

The other man recoiled, stung, but nodded. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I guess, under the circumstances…"

"Yeah. Under the circumstances," Hanson retorted, trying to glare but ending up blinking back tears. He swallowed hard. "You… you remember Doug's case, in Major Crimes? The sportswriter whose ex accused him of molesting his kid?"

"Tom, that's not the same thing."

"How? Because this guy was fifteen instead of four? It's still a sex crime, man. It's… hell, it's a felony. He's under sixteen."

"It's not public, that's why," Booker replied. "You weren't dragged out of a restaurant in handcuffs. You haven't been arrested or charged or any of that bullshit. Fuller'll take care of this before it becomes a thing, and everything'll get back to normal."

"It's already a thing, Booker!" Hanson snapped. "A fifteen-year-old boy accused me of rape!"

"He accused you of having sex with him."

"It's rape."

"Technically."

"Everything's technical," Tom replied bitterly. Then, just as quickly as it had come on, his anger dissipated. "I told Fuller I'm gay."

He searched Dennis's face for a reaction, cringing inwardly when he saw nothing but a blank stare. They sat like that for a full minute before Hanson finally pushed his shoulder gently. "Say something, man."

"Did you, uh…"

"No." Hanson shook his head. "Don't worry. You're safe."

"The hell, Tom?" Booker stared at him, looking a little stunned, then rose and repositioned himself next to Hanson. "Why did you say that?"

"You don't have to worry; I'm not about to out you to Fuller." Tom watched the other man for his reaction. Booker chewed his bottom lip, his frown deepening.

Finally, he actually spoke. "Yeah, Captain said you told him you didn't have an alibi for that night." Hanson shrugged and looked away. "Hanson, there are only two ways you can get out of this. The cops can break the kid down and get him to admit he's lying, or you can prove you were somewhere else that night."

"Then I guess I'm screwed."

"Are you kidding?" Dennis's mouth was wide open. "If you think for a second I'm letting you go to jail for rape to save my own ass, you're off your rocker!"

Tom stared at him, unblinking, and finally let Booker take his hand. "You're going back to the Chapel, and you're going to tell Fuller where you were that night."

"This could ruin your career."

"No more than yours."

"But you…"

"Do you ever stop thinking?" Dennis asked him. He leaned forward slowly, brushing his lips against Hanson's. "My career or your life, huh? That's a pretty easy choice, for me anyway."

"I didn't think you wanted Fuller to know."

"Well, I don't. That's true," Dennis admitted. "And neither do you. But if it means you ending up losing your job, getting labeled as a sex offender, and going to prison, well, coming out of the closet looks like a pretty good idea to me."

Tom blinked, surprised to find that the tears had returned. "Think about it, okay?"

"There's nothing—"

"Promise me you'll think about it," he demanded. "I mean it, Dennis. Please."

"Okay. I promise. But Hanson, the sooner you talk to Fuller, the sooner we can straighten this out."

"I can't go back there today. I don't want to face Doug and Jude and Harry."

"You didn't do anything wrong!"

"It sure as hell looks like I did."

Booker threw his hands up in the air. "Can I, like, choke you? Seriously?" Hanson didn't reply, so Dennis kept talking. "I was in with Penhall and Hoffs and Ioki when Fuller told us what was up. And not one of them believes it. Not even close. They all see it for exactly what it is – the kid's trying to get himself off by screwing you over. Nobody thinks you actually did a damn thing."

Tom didn't pull away when Booker put his arm around him, just lay his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, allowing himself to feel comforted by his touch. "I still can't go back today, Dennis."

"Then I'll tell him myself."

"No. I… I want to be with you when you tell him," he said softly. "Tomorrow will be soon enough." Even without looking, he could feel Booker's skepticism, but the other man didn't speak. After a long silence he said, "Thank you."

This time he did look, and Dennis's surprise was evident. "What for?"

"For coming over, for doing this for me. It's a risk, Dennis."

Booker was silent for a second, then asked, "How did Fuller react?"

Tom frowned at the non-sequitur. "Huh?"

"How did he react when you told him you're gay?"

Hanson shrugged. "He didn't really care. Even when he asked me he said normally he wouldn't care, but he had to know, considering the situation. He had a little trouble spitting out the question though."

"Can't blame him." Dennis shifted, tightening his arm around Hanson. Tom heard him take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Not disengaging himself from Booker, Hanson turned a little to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"

The other man shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a little nervous, I guess. I mean, it's not like everybody hasn't already had it in for Jump Street. Parents don't like cops being in schools as it is, never mind gay cops."

"No kidding."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, Hanson again reveling in the warmth and comfort of Booker's arms. "You need to go back, don't you?" he finally said.

"Yeah. I told Hoffs I needed to get a file from you; I think she thought I was going to give you a hard time. She didn't want me to come."

"I'm glad you did."

"Me too." Hanson felt Dennis's lips brush his cheek and smiled for the first time since he'd walked into Fuller's office.

"Thanks, Dennis."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yes I do." He paused. "I love you."

"Love you too."

"Now get back to work."

-------------------------

Walking back into the chapel, Booker headed straight for his desk. He'd been sitting down for all of thirty seconds before Judy appeared in front of him. "How is he?"

"Been better," he replied shortly. "He's got himself convinced everyone's going to believe it, and he's obsessing over that sportswriter that Penhall busted when he was in with major crimes. And he's freaking out over being accused of rape. It's really messing with his head."

He could tell that Hoffs was at a loss. "He actually talked to you? I was wondering why you were gone so long."

"Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do have an ounce or two of compassion. I'm not an asshole, Judy, and I don't like to kick people when they're down."

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I just… you're not always the most tactful person, Dennis."

"Yeah, well, your faith in me is astounding." Booker rolled his eyes. "You know, you, Harry, and Penhall aren't the only people here who consider Hanson a friend."

"You haven't exactly acted like much of a friend to him."

"There's a lot you don't know, Hoffs."

"Apparently."

Dennis looked past her and saw Doug making his way over. "Oh, for… would you two save the double-teaming for the dealers and gangbangers?"

"How's Hanson?" Penhall asked gruffly, ignoring his remark.

"Lousy. He's depressed and pissed and wants to be left alone. He doesn't want to see anyone because he's convinced people are going to believe he actually did it."

"He's nuts," Doug muttered. "Does he really think that?"

"Yes. As I just told Judy – next time you do this, can you both come over at once so I don't have to repeat myself ten times? – he keeps thinking about the case you had with Major Crimes. And the fact that he's been accused of rape is really screwing with him."

"It's different. And nobody believes that kid."

"I know that. And you know that. And she knows that." Booker pointed at Hoffs. "But you know Hanson. And he doesn't know that."

"Did you tell him?"

Dennis blinked. "Are you for real? No, I sat there, listened to him, and decided he was better off thinking his life is over. Of course I told him."

He was saved from further questioning when Fuller came out of his office and yelled for Hoffs and Penhall. As they walked away, he realized just how little the rest of the unit actually trusted him. It was funny. When he'd first joined Jump Street, it'd been Judy who defended him to Hanson. Now Hoffs couldn't stand him and he and Tom were spending the nights together more often then not.

Knowing that Hanson trusted him helped, but it was starting to hit him just how much it bothered him that the others didn't. He watched Penhall close Fuller's door behind them and sighed. "Back to work, Booker."