Title: Irreparable

Summary: A false accusation leads to divisive revelations for the Jump Street team, but they overcome their differences in the face of a tragic event – and a case with deeply personal resonance.

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.

estelswolf - I love getting inside people's heads; I should have been a shrink ;-) At this point, I'm not entirely sure there will end up being a trial >whistles innocently> And as for giving Dennis some time, yeah, Tom may regret not doing that...

Just a Fan - Booker's been where Adler is. That's the best explanation I can give you atm, but you'll see more in this update. So Penhall's being a man, huh? What does that make Dennis:-P I love that quote! Though... are you calling Dennis a saint? ;-)

Nina - Yep, poor Dennis. As for getting through the case, well, this should be interesting. I think I'll leave it at that ;-) Joanne, yeah... she's got some issues, and they'll eventually come to a head. Keep coming with the ideas for the prequel; you're giving me lots of thoughts to run with- though some of them are sorta evil ;)

daizia - Joanne has definitely got some problems, and you'll see the extent of them soon. The deal with the cheerleaders too.When I write, I try to keep in mind whether the scene would be realistic to the show, and I'm glad it's working. Regarding Dennis and the case he's on, you'll see how Fuller wants to handle it soon.

A/N: According to the show Booker, Dennis's father Nick left him and his mother when Dennis was eight. For my purposes, I've altered that and he leaves when Dennis is 13.

Chapter 12

Hanson watched his boyfriend leave, unsure of what to do. He glanced between Judy, who looked sick, and Fuller, who looked a little stunned. His gaze skimmed over Ioki, who just seemed uncomfortable, and finally landed on Doug. "Good job, Penhall." Then he stood up and went after Dennis without another word.

He grabbed the first officer he saw. "Where'd he go?"

"Huh? Who?"

"My partner."

"Who?"

Tom halfheartedly fought back his frustration. "Booker. Dennis Booker. My partner. Where'd he go?"

"I don't know."

With a low growl, Hanson lightly pushed the man away, only to have another officer, a woman he'd seen around a few times, approach him. "He went toward the men's room," she said quietly, and he shot her a grateful look.

He waited outside the door to the restroom before pushing it open. Dennis was standing at one of the sinks, hands on the sides, head down. "Babe?"

"Leave me alone, Hanson."

"Nope." He took a step forward and, hesitantly, rested a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder, only to have Booker push him away.

"Don't."

Raising his hands in a submissive gesture, Tom moved back, giving Dennis his space. After a few minutes he asked quietly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to tell anyone."

"You should have."

Booker finally turned around, glaring daggers. "Why? So Doug would feel sorry for me, or so you could go running to Fuller, telling him to pull me off the case?"

Partly. "No, so I could be there! I spent the last week watching you fall apart without knowing why. You should have told me." He fought the urge to reach for him. "Tell me now."

"No."

"Yes." Hanson grabbed his arm and spun him around, only to have Dennis shove him back against the wall. He winced as his head cracked against the hard surface, but was bothered more by his boyfriend's next words than the physical display.

"Don't touch me!"

Tom stared at him, but didn't move. "Okay, I won't. If you'll talk to me." He crossed his arms over his chest. "What happened?"

Booker took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Same thing that happened to Adler," he said simply. He wrapped his arms around himself and leaned back against the sink and raised his eyes to Tom's, looking for a response. When Hanson didn't move or speak, he went on. "I was thirteen. The guy was my English teacher; his name was Schenck. He failed me on a test on Romeo and Juliet, when I got everything right." There was a strange quality in Dennis's voice.

"What did he do?"

"We had these progress reports that were going out the end of the week. I wasn't doing so hot, and when I failed that test I was kind of screwed. My dad went through the roof, and I was pretty black-and-blue on Monday morning. Schenck kept me after school, asked me what happened. He already knew – he knew my father."

Tom took his silence as an opportunity to move closer. "What did he do?"

"Started telling me it'd be okay. Sat me down, rubbed my shoulders, asked me if I wanted him to report it. I told him no, it wasn't that big a deal." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I was used to it by then."

Hanson mentally filed the remark – and its implications – away for future reference. "Then what?"

"Then… he didn't keep his hands on my shoulders anymore. He moved them down my chest. Then he kissed me, and told me there was something I could do so I wouldn't have to worry about failing anymore."

"Have sex with him," Tom said quietly.

"Exactly."

"What did—"

"I ran; I freaked out and took off. But my dad lost it the next time I flunked a quiz, and Schenck could tell, and he did it again." Tom heard his voice break. "That time, I let him."

Finally, he raised his eyes. "Lasted about four months, til my aunt got sick and my dad went to the school to pick me up from my tutoring session, but I wasn't there. Schenck – he'd decided that school wasn't the best place to screw around with a student. I got home… my mother wasn't there; she went to see her sister. Dad – he was gonna hit me. But when he started screaming and I didn't mouth off at him he figured out something was wrong. I just stood there, started crying."

He shook his head slowly and Tom was a little unnerved to see that his face was completely void of emotion. "He lost it. I thought he was gonna – I don't know what I thought he was gonna do. He and Schenck'd been friends for years. That was another thing the guy held over me, that dad wouldn't believe me if I told him."

"What happened then?" Tom had managed to get close enough to take Dennis's hand, and was gratified when he didn't pull away or push him back.

"Mom came home, Dad wanted to call the cops, but I wouldn't let him. They kept me out of school a few days, and then the next week the guy was shot in a drive-by." A bitter smile played over his lover's lips. "I wasn't sorry, and neither was my dad."

Tom frowned at that, raising an eyebrow slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Booker shrugged. "I heard my folks talking; it didn't sound like a random shooting." He shrugged. "I wasn't about to say anything; they never caught whoever did it."

Hanson kept his face expressionless, but inside was a little stunned by the idea that his boyfriend's father might have murdered a man – not that he could really blame him, or fault Dennis, at thirteen, for keeping quiet.

"Mom spent the next three months on a 'how-could-I-not-know-someone-was-hurting-my-son' kick, and a week after she got her head back on straight, dad took off."

Tom tightened the grip he had on Booker's left hand, then took his right, squeezing it gently. "I wish you'd told me."

"You know now."

"Yeah." He looked down, then raised his eyes. "You should never have been put on this case."

"I'm not quitting." Dennis tried to pull away but Tom wouldn't let him. "I can't, Hanson."

"Let's remember I'm your boyfriend for a minute, and stop acting like I'm a cop, huh?" Booker looked away as he spoke. "I spent the last week watching you fall apart. Having to deal with this guy is killing you, and it's not worth it. This case isn't worth you driving yourself crazy." He released one of his hands and moved it to his boyfriend's chin, tilting his head to face him. "Look me in the eye and tell me that seeing Greene every day doesn't bother you at all."

"I'm a big boy, Tom. I can do my job."

"But what's it gonna cost you in the process?"

"This is why I didn't tell anyone!" Booker finally pulled away from him. "Let me do my job."

Suddenly, his boyfriend's determination made sense. "You don't want this guy to get away, and you don't think anyone else can do it."

"Penhall won't."

"Forget Penhall! You give the word and Fuller'll have this guy picked up in an hour, and you won't have to see him again."

"I can handle it."

"That's why you look like you're about to collapse."

Dennis shot him a look. "Sorry, I wasn't planning on dragging skeletons out of the closet this afternoon."

Tom ignored the sarcasm, though it was better than the emptiness in Booker's voice as he'd been telling his story. "Why don't you head home? I'll tell Fuller."

They stood in silence for a while, until Booker finally nodded. "Yeah." He hesitated. "I'll see you Sunday night?"

"If not before," Hanson replied, thinking of Fuller's comment. "I'll call tonight and tomorrow, at least once."

"Be careful."

"You, too."

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

The other Jump Street officers watched in silence as Hanson went after Booker. Judy rested her head in a hand, not quite believing how things had just played out. She'd seen it coming, though she wasn't sure exactly what the story was. "Nice work, Doug."

He glanced over at her, but wouldn't meet her eyes. "I didn't know."

"No kidding," she retorted, casting a quick look at Ioki, who was still staring at the door.

"Jude—"

"I think everyone's said plenty," Fuller interrupted him, and Hoffs was glad when he redirected the conversation to the case at hand. "Penhall, could he be right?"

He shrugged, and for a moment Judy felt sorry for him; he clearly hadn't expected Booker's revelation. Not that any of them had, but… "I don't know, Coach. Could go either way. He knows what to look for, but he might be imagining it."

"Is it possible?"

"Yeah, it's possible. But I don't know how likely it is."

"Well, when he meets Greene, you be there. In the closet, down the hall, outside the window, I don't care. But be there, and the second anything so much as starts to go down, stop it, no matter what Booker says to you between now and then."

"Got it."

The room fell silent again, and stayed that way until Hanson returned – and for a few minutes after. Finally, Judy spoke. "Is he all right?"

Hanson glanced at her. "He will be." He directed his attention to the Captain. "He went home, Coach. I figured it was okay."

"It's fine." Fuller glanced down at the desk. "Penhall, Ioki, you can go." Judy stood to leave with them, but the Captain shook his head and gestured for her to sit. "Hoffs, stay."

Once they were alone in the office, Fuller folded his hands on the desk. "Hanson, did you know about this?"

"No. He didn't tell me, because he knew I would've told you to pull him out."

"Okey dokey." The Captain was quiet for a moment, and when he looked up, his expression was, if possible, even more serious. "I want both your professional opinions about Booker and this case."

"Why me?" Judy asked. Hanson, she could understand.

"Because you're good at reading people, Hoffs, and because I want an opinion other than Hanson's, and I'm not too keen on getting it from Penhall or Ioki right about now." He paused. "Hanson, should Booker stay on this case?"

He hesitated. "I don't know."

"You said a minute ago you'd have told me to pull him off it if you'd known."

"Yeah, I would've. But that probably would have been instinct, not… I don't know, coach." He raked a hand through his hair and turned away, pacing the office to the point Judy wanted to get up and shove him into a chair. "He says he can do it."

"Do you believe him?"

"I think so." Hanson stopped walking and turned back to face him. "He says he can do the job; he doesn't want to see Greene walk. He knew he was the best choice for it from the start." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and started moving again, but this time when he passed Hoffs she reached up to take his hand, and was a little surprised when he stopped moving and held on tightly. "I'm just worried about what it's going to cost him."

Judy gave Tom's hand a gentle tug and he finally sat down beside her. "I reminded him that all he had to do was give the word and Greene won't even make it into school on Monday, but… I think he wants to catch the guy in the act. I think, no matter what Penhall says, he is worried about wrongly arresting the guy, and he wants to make sure he's not just assuming Greene's guilty because of what happened to him." Then he shrugged. "Or maybe he just wants to make sure he doesn't get off."

"Hoffs?"

"Well, I think Greene's guilty, Captain, and I wouldn't worry about picking him up now. Probably be easier on the guy than getting dragged out of the high school in handcuffs on Monday afternoon. But if Booker isn't ready to give the word…"

"Yeah." Fuller's frown deepened and not for the first time, Hoffs wished she could hear his thoughts. "What do you think of his current state of mind?"

"He's been okay so far, hasn't he? I mean, he's holding it together enough that nobody saw anything was wrong, right? That's not going to change automatically now that we know."

"I knew something was wrong." Judy glanced over at Tom as he spoke, surprised. "I didn't know what, but I knew there was something he wasn't saying. He told me he'd tell me, eventually."

"But even still, he wasn't falling apart," Hoffs pointed out. "I mean, I'd probably tell Penhall that if, on Monday, he honestly thinks Booker can't handle it, he should get him out of the school—"

"Dennis'd kill him," Tom interrupted.

"Probably, but at least he'd be sane enough to do it."

"Penhall has that responsibility regardless; that goes without saying." The Captain sighed. "Okay, he stays in. And I know neither of you is going to be around this weekend, but if you think of anything, or you talk to him at all between now and Monday afternoon and anything changes, you call me immediately. I don't care what time it is."

Judy nodded and rose, keeping hold of Tom's hand, and in the process half-dragged him to his feet. Outside the office, she pulled him toward her desk, glad that Harry and Doug were nowhere in sight. "Are you going to be okay for this weekend?"

He shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah. I would have preferred to find out about this after the party, but I'll manage."

"If you need me or Harry to run interference – if you need to call him or take off for a while or anything – let me know."

"Coach'd love that."

"He'd get over it. I mean it, Hanson. If you need anything—"

"I'll let you know." He turned away, then stopped and faced her again. "Thanks, Jude. You're the only one not acting weird about everything, and I appreciate it."

"What are friends for?" It was as clichéd as she could possibly get, but Hanson didn't seem to mind. In fact, he smiled, and patted her on the arm.

"Thanks."