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

Rating: T

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.

Rosepetal - I'm curious to know where you think this is going. Let me know :)

Nina - Glad you like the characterizations; those are always my greatest concern, especially when I'm writing slash fics.

Chapter 5

"What did Fuller mean, that you had experience for the domestic abuse thing?"

Hanson looked up, mouth full of lo mein, and shrugged. This was the opening he'd been looking for, and he'd better take it before he lost his nerve. "From what I've heard, you've got more experience with it than I do." He regarded Dennis carefully, looking for any reaction, not sure what he hoped to see.

Booker's face paled a little and he stopped eating, setting the carton he was holding down on the coffee table. "What have you heard?" His voice was quieter than usual and Tom got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He set his own food down on the floor in front of him. "That you put a girl in the hospital, and that IAD covered it up."

Dennis blinked. "I… who told you that?"

Hanson hesitated. He didn't want to add fuel to the fire with Dennis and Doug, but at the same time he thought Booker had a right to know. "Penhall."

"I should've guessed." His voice was void of the animosity Tom had expected. "What Penhall doesn't know is that I was arrested and damn near lost my badge over that."

Tom tensed a bit. "So it's true?"

Dennis looked down at his hands. "Yeah." When he raised his head, his eyes pleaded with Tom to hear him out, if not understand. "I was drunk, she was drunker; she knew exactly what to say to get to me, and I lost it. Neighbor called the cops, she was taken to the hospital and I was shoved in the back of a squad car. When she… when she came around, they asked if she wanted to press charges. If she had, I'd be in prison."

"She didn't?"

He shook his head. "Just wanted to be as far away from me as possible. Can't say I blame her. Anyway, I was given a choice: counseling and anger management or I could turn in my badge." He gave Tom a self-deprecating smile. "You think I got a temper now, you should have seen me then."

"I'm not sure I'd have wanted to," Hanson said softly.

"Tom—"

"What, Dennis? You were arrested for beating up your girlfriend and, what? You didn't think that was something I should know about?"

"Tom—" he tried again, but Hanson interrupted him once more.

"What happened?"

"I just told you—"

"Yeah, well, be more specific."

"Just ask me whatever the hell it is you want to know, because I'm not a mind reader, Hanson, and there's obviously something specific you're looking for."

When Tom finally spoke, his voice was much lower than it had been. "What did you do to her?" He watched Dennis's expression change.

"I hit her – one punch, she fell into the wall, hit her head. Hairline fracture." He swallowed and Hanson could see pain – and regret – in his eyes. "She was lucky; I could've killed her. For a split second I thought I had. Cops showed up even before I had the chance to call an ambulance."

"Why?" Tom asked, a little afraid to hear his response. He'd never been scared of Dennis, but his answer might hold the potential to change that. "What… what did she do?"

"She started screaming at me about how useless I was and how it must have been because of me my dad ran out on mom and how he must have hated us and he'd been smart to take off on me and I deserved everything I got." Dennis's words came in a rush and it took Tom a moment to process them. When he finally managed to, however, everything made a little more sense.

Dennis was notoriously closed-mouthed about his father, and whenever someone brought him up, it was impossible to miss the pain in his eyes. It had taken an entire night and large quantities of bar food and alcohol for Hanson to even find out that Nick Booker had walked out on his family, and they hadn't talked about it since. For a while Tom had even avoided talking about his own father, not wanting to hurt his boyfriend. That had lasted until father's day this year, when Dennis had brought him up, giving Hanson permission, in a way, to talk about how much he missed his dad.

"Tom?"

"I wish you'd told me."

"I didn't know how you'd react. Plus, I learned my lesson. Stopped drinking so much, and the counseling sessions actually helped a little." Dennis's face flushed, then he frowned. "Tom, why did Penhall tell you this?"

Hanson shrugged evasively, but he could tell from the look on his lover's face that he wasn't going to let it go. "When I told him about us last night, he was… concerned."

"Concerned how?" Tom shrugged again and Dennis sighed. "I get it. Penhall thinks I might hurt you, too." He paused, then went on. "And from the looks of it, he's not the only one."

Tom shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of how to respond. He wasn't afraid of Dennis, and even after hearing this, he still felt – more or less – that Doug was worrying over nothing. Booker had a temper, but Hanson couldn't ever remember seeing him completely lose control of it. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, and he couldn't see Dennis ever trying to hurt him. Still… "I don't know," he said quietly.

He could see in his boyfriend's eyes how deeply the words cut him, but the other man only nodded. "Fair enough."

"Dennis…"

"It's okay." He stood abruptly. "I'm going to take a walk or something." Hanson nodded and wordlessly watched him go.

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

Dennis stared out over the dark river, listening to the water wash over the rocks. That conversation had gone anywhere but where he'd expected it to. "Damn it, Penhall."

The part that bothered him the most was that he couldn't really fault the man. If he'd been in Doug's position, he'd probably have done the same. Besides, he couldn't put all the blame on Penhall. Tom was right; he should have told him.

He heard soft footfalls behind him and automatically his hand went for his gun. Before he could do more than that, he heard Hanson's voice. "Hey."

Booker released the handle of his weapon, returning his hands to the railing in front of him. Without turning he asked simply, "How'd you find me?"

"Well, you didn't take your bike, and there aren't that many places within walking distance that you take off to like this." Tom came up behind him and when arms encircled him, Dennis didn't pull away. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." It was a lie and Dennis knew his lover could tell, but he didn't say anything and Booker was grateful.

"I love you."

"I know."

They stayed like that for a while, Dennis taking comfort in the warmth of Hanson's body against his back, and when the silence was broken it was by Tom. "You, ah, asked me a question in there, that I never got around to answering."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" Booker still didn't turn around and Tom had apparently grown bored of looking at the back of his boyfriend's head, because he insinuated himself in between Dennis and the railing.

"Want an answer?"

"If you want to give me one." Dennis let Hanson take his hand, following him to a grassy ledge a little closer to the water. They sat down, side by side, and for the first time Dennis was glad they weren't hiding anymore. Slowly, he put an arm around Tom and was a little too pleased when he didn't try to pull away.

"It was one of mine and Doug's cases, only not one we were assigned to. It sort of fell into our laps. My lap, really." He paused and in the dim light Dennis could see him toying with the cuff on his jacket. Wherever this was going, Tom was getting worked up already.

"We were undercover as the McQuaid brothers, and part of my cover was that I'd killed somebody. And this girl comes up to me and asks me if it's true, and I didn't think anything of it because I got asked a lot. So I said yeah, it was. Then she asks me if I'd ever do it again." Booker could feel him tense and reached over with his free hand to capture one of Tom's.

"There were warning bells going off all over the place in my head, y'know, but I didn't know what was up with the girl, so I told her yeah, if I had to. Probably shouldn't have said that, but I needed to be in character." He paused. "Besides, it was the truth." Hanson leaned forward suddenly, resting his forearms on his knees. "So, well, she pretty much decides that I had to. She tried to hire me to kill her father."

Dennis let out a low whistle. "He was…"

"Yeah. He was molesting her, ever since her mother died. I figured it out – you could see it in her face – but she wouldn't admit it, so we couldn't do anything to get her out of the house and away from the bastard. So I went to Fuller, and he agreed to go along with me on arresting her for solicitation of murder." He shook his head. "Stupidest thing I've ever done."

"Doesn't sound it."

"It will." Hanson stopped speaking for a moment and Booker could hear him draw a shaky breath. "Should have passed it on downtown and left it alone."

"What happened?"

"We went to her house. Fuller waited outside, while I went in. Her little sister answered the door, and went to get her. I got her to get the kid out of the house, then… everything just kind of went to hell."

"The father?"

"Yeah. Sort of. I told her I was there to arrest her and she starts yelling for her father that I was trying to make her go with me. So he comes in, and I identify myself and tell him she's being arrested for soliciting his murder. But he starts yelling for me to get out and then he comes after me."

"I know how this story ends," Dennis said quietly. It had started out sounding familiar and the memory had only gotten stronger as Hanson went on. "The guys in Internal Affairs had a field day."

"Yeah, no kidding. I drew on him, tried everything I could think of to get him to back down but he didn't listen. It… it was self-defense. Not that that makes it any better."

Booker reached forward, pulling Tom back to him. Hanson turned into his shoulder and Dennis could feel him shake. He kissed him lightly on the forehead, his hand moving in small circles across his boyfriend's back. "The guy was a creep, Tom, and he deserved whatever he got."

"IAD didn't seem to think so."

"Well, they're a bunch of jackasses anyway."

Hanson raised his eyes and gave him a smirk. "Yeah, they are."

"Thanks a lot." Dennis glared at him for a minute, then gave up. "Tom," he began hesitantly, then trailed off.

"What?"

"How… how did you know what was going on?"

"Kid I went to school with." Dennis raised an eyebrow and Tom gave him a sad smile. "No, really. It wasn't me, just a friend of mine." He looked away again before continuing. "I'd known him since we were, I don't know, three or four I guess. Anyway, my dad gets a call over the radio one night, shots fired. He didn't expect it to be a thirteen-year-old holding the gun."

Booker opened his mouth to ask what had happened but Hanson went on without waiting for him. "My buddy, Aaron, he was just standing there in the middle of the living room. The gun was still in his hands, and my dad said he didn't look like he'd moved since he pulled the trigger." He paused and glanced at Dennis. "The DA came over for coffee one night and I heard them talking," he added, by way of explanation.

"Turns out, his father had been abusing him for years, and I guess he'd gotten bored, tried to move on to his sister." He got a faraway look in his eyes. "She was the cutest kid, always tagging along after him, wanting to play with all the boys. You know, the kind in movies who'll stand there on the sidewalk crying if her big brother or sister doesn't let her come. She was only eight when it happened." Tom blinked and Dennis unconsciously pulled him closer. "Last I knew she was practically living in some crackhouse down off of Route 11, turning tricks to pay for the drugs. Don't know if she's even still alive."

"Conveniently looking the other way?" Dennis asked.

"Oh, I've thought about tipping Vice off, don't quite have the heart."

Tom fell silent then and stayed quiet until Booker asked him, "What happened to your friend?"

"He wasn't charged or anything – he was defending himself and his sister. He never came back to school and I heard he ended up in a hospital somewhere after he OD'd on sleeping pills." Hanson shook his head and Dennis looked at him in concern.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just been a long day."

"School tomorrow."

Tom groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Just behave yourself."

Tom twisted around to look up at him. "Afraid of losing me to a high school girl?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Should I be?" Dennis countered, and Tom shook his head.

"You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

"Good." He leaned down a bit, intending just to give Hanson a quick kiss, but Tom snaked his hand up to rest on Dennis's neck, deepening and lengthening the kiss. As his boyfriend's tongue massaged his, Booker moaned softly. He ran a hand over Tom's chest, hear his lover's breath hitch. Then, abruptly, he ended the kiss.

As he pulled back, Hanson glared at him. "Damn it, Dennis."

"You started it, not me. And, ah, out though we may be, I'm not really thrilled at the prospect of facing Fuller after getting arrested for public indecency."

Tom looked glum, but even with just the moonlight, Booker could see how flushed his face was. "Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over so hot."

Dennis rose, then reached down and pulled Hanson to his feet. "So why don't we head back to your place?"