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.
Just A Fan - There's nothing wrong with reading something when you haven't seen the show; fans have been made that way :-P Glad to know you like it.
RosePetal - That's one vote for the prequel ;) Glad you liked the scene with the boys alone; I had fun writing it. I like showing them as a couple without all the stress and angst, just as much as with it. As for the party, well... >devil face> That's going to be fun. No, to tell the truth, I don't have much of that planned yet. There are other things to come first. And you can't kill her, because then she wouldn't be able to... >slaps hand over her mouth>
daizia - Do you know how excited it makes me to see such a long review:-D I was just telling my boyfriend today that while Booker and Hanson are my favorite characters, I absolutely love eps where Doug and Hanson are together, because they, as you said, play off each other beautifully. And that's two votes for the prequel. Yes, they don't like each other. And, trust me, what I have planned is not a "You're gay? Me too! Let's go to bed." type of thing. ;)
Glad you like the interaction between the boys; it's my biggest concern with this fic, as I think I've said, so it means a lot to me that you like it. I'm just trying to make it real, and my take on it is generally, well, this is how guys act with the women they love, why would it be so different if the person they loved was a guy? As for Dennis seeming bothered by the whole thing with Greene, well, all I can say at this point is that you've got a good eye. >whistles> Regarding Hanson and the Joanne/party situation... well, as I said to RosePetal, I don't have that whole thing planned out yet. But what I can say regarding the scene in the hallway is that a guy may react to certain stimuli regardless of the gender of the stimulator :-P And I'm happy to be of service.
Nina - Three votes! From all my regular readers. Guess now I have to, huh? What types of hints are you picking up on? I'm curious, because I'd like to address them and I'm afraid I might miss things. Please let me know :)
Yes, something's not quite right about Joanne, or Greene for that matter. And it's only going to get worse...
Chapter 9
Dennis kept his eyes fixed carefully on his desk as Greene walked by, placing his quiz face down. After the man had moved on, he turned it over slowly. Circled in red ink at the top were the letter 'F' and the words 'See me'.
He only half-listened to the lecture, trying to get his head on straight; his conversation with Hanson the night before had only served to shake him up more than was probably healthy.
Booker looked up, only to find Greene staring back at him, and felt his face flush. Get a grip! You're acting like Hanson! His boyfriend's antics the night before had amused him, though he was glad Tom had felt okay bringing it up with him.
He sighed inwardly and tried to focus on the front of the room. The truth was, Greene made his skin crawl and it was only his pride that kept him from taking Tom's advice: just filing a report with Fuller and asking to be pulled out. That, and he wanted to take this guy down personally.
But still, being around this creep made him sick to his stomach, and if he were going to be able to deal with him without blowing the case, he needed to relax. He took a few deep breaths, turned to the page in the textbook that they were on, and proceeded to tune out everything.
The next time he looked up, it was two minutes before the bell. He closed the book, rested his notebook on top, and pocketed his pen. As the class was dismissed, he hung back, then positioned himself with the desk in between him and Greene; if the guy even touched him now, it was because he specifically meant to.
To his surprise, the teacher just leaned against the desk, arms folded in front of him. "Dennis, I have to admit, I'm concerned. If you'd really like to try to catch up on your own, I can't force you into anything. But you've come in halfway through the year and there's a lot of material you've missed. Quite frankly, I don't know why you were even placed in my course." He shook his head. "It's nothing against you; you just don't have the sort of background to come into a class like this right in the middle."
If you only knew. "I'll be fine."
Greene sighed. "Dennis, did you do the reading for yesterday's quiz?"
He hadn't needed to; he could probably teach it as well as Greene. "Yeah."
"That causes me even greater concern. That was all material you should have gotten out of the chapter; there really wasn't anything you needed the rest of the text for. And yet, you still did poorly. I don't want to have to fail you; you seem like a very bright young man."
Dennis frowned; in class, Greene had seemed the same as the last few days. Now, though, he felt like a different person. "What, uh, what do you suggest?"
"Give me a few days after school next week; I should be able to at least teach you the basics, give you enough background at least to pass." He smiled. "I'd start tonight, but I already have plans."
It sounded like the guy was trying to schedule a date instead of a tutoring session – which he probably was. "Uh, sure. Monday, after school?"
"Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow."
Booker finally moved in front of the desk – short of climbing over things, which, granted, he wasn't entirely averse to, the only way to the door was by Greene – and at the moment, the man was back to himself again. He caught Dennis's arm and this time ran a hand up his shoulder; it was all he could do not to yank his arm away and run. "We'll get you all straightened out," he said, releasing him. Booker couldn't escape fast enough.
Out in the hall, Dennis leaned against the lockers and drew a shaky breath. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Adler standing across from him once again. "Reconsider," the kid said quietly, then started to walk away.
Regaining his bearings, Booker caught up to him but didn't touch him; he'd nearly ended up with a black eye once this week, and wasn't keen to take the chance a second time. "Why? What's your problem with him?"
"You tell me; you don't look like you're jumping for joy."
"I failed a quiz; my mother's gonna kill me."
"Yeah, sure. Well, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to know you're getting extra help."
Before he realized what he was doing, Dennis had Kyle pinned against the locker. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Adler stared back at him, face frozen in frightened surprise. "Let... let me go," he stammered.
Dennis's eyes widened and he stepped back instantly, holding his hands up in a gesture of submission. "I'm sorry. I just… just kinda lost it."
The kid straightened out his shirt collar and shrugged. "I kinda deserved it, taking a swing at you the other day."
Booker smirked. "Guess we can call it even." He paused, casting a glance back over his shoulder toward Greene's classroom. "What's the deal?"
Kyle shrugged. "Just… reconsider, okay, man? Greene's a real dirtbag. If you need help, I've got time. Just… don't let him help you."
"Why?"
"Think about it. You're a very bright young man." Adler threw Greene's words at him. "I mean it, man, don't let that guy touch you."
"Who said anything about him touching me?"
The kid's face went white – again. "I… I gotta go." With that, the conversation ended just like it had two days ago, with Adler taking off down the hall and Dennis just standing there, watching him go.
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Doug looked up when Booker sat down across from him. "How was class?"
"That guy touches me again, I'm gonna break his hand."
Penhall fought the urge to roll his eyes. "You know how close to losing it you look right now? Chill out, or you're gonna blow this case."
"I could blow my cover right now and recommend they pick Greene up."
"I wouldn't."
Dennis's jaw literally dropped and Doug was surprised to see the pained look in his eyes. "What? Why?"
"These guys are full of it. I talked to one of 'em in physics this morning and another in English. Greene flunked them both on their last exams – and Adler too. They're just pissed."
Booker shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. Adler keeps offering to help me out, and he knows his stuff, well enough not to fail at least." He paused. "Besides, didn't it occur to you that maybe they're not mad because he flunked them, but because of what he pulled after they failed – if they really did at all?"
"I've seen kids pissed at teachers before," Doug retorted, wondering idly why the other man was getting so worked up over this case. "Get a grip; obviously, the guys at HQ didn't completely believe these kids' stories, or they wouldn't have sent us in here."
"Obviously, they weren't convinced they were lying, either, or they wouldn't have sent us in here."
Doug rolled his eyes. "I don't know what your problem is, but you need to cool it before you ruin this guy's life."
"I know what your problem is," Dennis muttered. "Problems, actually."
"Oh really, well, why don't you inform me? Because I wasn't aware I had a problem," Doug shot back.
"You're too damn scared of making the same mistake you made over in major crimes, so you'd rather let this guy walk. Not to mention, you're too pissed about me and Tom to listen to a God damn word I say." Booker scowled at him. "You have a problem with me, take it up with me; don't blow the case over it and don't screw with Tom. He doesn't deserve it."
Penhall started. "You think that's what this is about? You're crazy. I'm doing my job, and I've seen firsthand what happens when you bust a guy for something like this and you're wrong."
"And I'm telling you I'm not wrong; these guys are telling the truth."
"And I'm telling you, I think you are wrong. These kids are pissed off and they figure this is a good way to get back at Greene. The guy's a creep, but he didn't do anything wrong, and I'm not going to let you screw up his life."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know better than you."
Booker's demeanor changed in a flat second. "No, you don't." With that he got up and walked away. Doug watched him dump his uneaten lunch in the trash before he left the cafeteria.
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Dennis hadn't even closed the door to his apartment before he flung the backpack in his hand across the room. It hit the TV stand, knocking a few videos over, but otherwise did no damage. Too bad.
He glanced at the clock. Three thirty wasn't too early to drink, was it? He really ought to go to the Chapel; not showing up would just give Penhall another reason to breathe down his neck. He picked up the phone, ignoring the blinking light on the answering machine, and dialed Fuller's desk. When the Captain didn't answer, he tried Hanson's. His boyfriend picked up on the first ring. "This is Tom."
"Hey."
"Hey… where are you?" He could picture the concerned, 'you're-gonna-be-in-trouble' expression on the other man's face. "Doug's about to go through the roof."
"Doug can shove it." Dennis paused. "Look, tell him I don't feel that hot and I'll catch up with him tomorrow."
"You okay?"
"I will be. But if I have to see him right now, I'll hit him, and I don't feel like dealing with him or Fuller after that. So… tell him I'll see him tomorrow."
"Dennis—"
"Come by my place when you get out, will you?"
"Dennis—"
"Bye, Tom." He hung up before he could say anything more, then headed for the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Popping the top off, he returned to the phone and pressed the message button.
"Dennis, it's mom." Booker blinked and turned the volume up, wondering if someone had died. "I was… I was wondering if maybe you'd like to have dinner. I know this is kind of out of the blue, but…" His mother's voice trailed off. "Give me a call, sweetheart; maybe even tonight, we could go out, or you could come over." She paused. "I love you, Dennis."
As the tape clicked off, he stared at the phone and it occurred to him that this might be a chance to tell her about him and Tom. He knew it drove his boyfriend crazy at times that even his family didn't know he was gay, though he never gave him a hard time about it.
He picked up the phone and dialed her number slowly, half of him hoping she wouldn't answer, but he heard her voice after a few seconds. "Hello?"
"Hey, mom, it's me. I, uh, got your message."
She was quiet for a moment. "Dennis, are you okay? You don't sound very good."
"Just, uh, just tired, and I got a case that's stressing me out." It was mostly true; he was exhausted, and working with Penhall on this assignment had him ready to shoot himself. That wasn't all, of course, and he had a feeling she could tell, but she didn't say anything. He fiddled with the phone cord, wondering if this was really a good idea. "I, uh, I can make it – for dinner, I mean."
"Where do you want to go?" He could almost hear her smile.
"Um, I was thinking I could just come over there; we could order in, doesn't have to be anything fancy." The last thing he needed was to come out to his mother in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Dennis took a deep breath. "Got something I wanted to ask you, though."
"Anything."
"Do you think… do you think I could bring someone? There's… something I want to talk to you about." Guarantee she'd have herself convinced within the hour that he was getting engaged, but he couldn't just spring a guest on her, and he knew he wouldn't do this without Tom.
She hesitated for just a second before replying. "Yes, of course. Nothing's wrong, is it, Dennis?"
A lot of things are wrong. "No, just something I need to talk to you about, that's all." As if that wasn't exactly what he'd said two minutes ago.
"All right. Seven o'clock okay?"
"Yeah, it's fine."
"I love you, Dennis."
"Love you too, mom."
He hung up the phone and remained still, staring at it for a long while after. Part of him was glad he'd just trapped himself like that – even though he was wary of what his mother might say, he wanted her to know that he'd found someone he cared about as much as Tom.
Not that he had a clue what he'd do if she reacted the way he expected her to. He couldn't imagine any mother being pleased to find out her only son was gay.
Of course, Margaret, Tom's mother, had been happy for them, which had been the only thing keeping him from having a heart attack the night Tom had told her about their relationship. Still, she'd had some time to adjust to the idea that her son was interested in men.
Sighing, he picked up the phone and once more dialed his boyfriend's number. It took three rings this time before Tom picked up. "Hanson."
"You, uh, didn't have anything in mind for dinner, did you?"
"No. Why?" There was suspicion in his lover's voice. "What'd you do?"
"My mom called."
Tom was silent for a moment. "Your mom. Are we having dinner with your mom?"
"Yes."
"She know I'm coming?"
"Sort of. She knows someone's coming. I didn't tell her who."
"Or the mystery guest's gender or relationship with you, I take it."
"I couldn't tell her over the phone, babe."
He went quiet again. "I know. Just… are you sure you're ready for this?"
"No."
"Oh, well, that's good."
"Tom—"
"Relax. I understand. What time?"
"Meeting her at her place at seven."
"I'll be at your apartment by six; I just have to go home and change."
"Okay." Dennis paused. "Penhall pissed?"
"Penhall's… yeah, he's pissed. He went off to Fuller for ten minutes about how you're gonna blow the case."
"Fuller believe him?"
"Nah. Told him to go cool out before he assigns you two as partners permanently."
"I'd resign."
"I know. Look, I'll see you in a couple hours. I gotta go kill Ioki before he makes one more crack about Joanne."
"Bye."
"Bye."