Warning: Slash (homosexual content),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.

A/N: Now that we have ways to reply directly to comments from logged-in reviewers, I've done so. Check your email. I'll make quick replies to the anonymous reviewers here.

Lauren - I love Tom and Booker. Glad you find Dennis at least tolerable in this :-) Sorry it took sooooooooo long to update; real life and an extracted tooth got in the way. Forgive me?

Fanfic Fish - Yes, real life has been quite difficult lately. I'm sooo sorry it took so long to update. There will be a lot from both Booker and Hanson coming up, alternatingly. In fact, a significant amount of Booker face-time is coming. Oh, and I love cliffies too :)

Nina - Sorry to leave it so long, but real life chose to be difficult. You'll see soon who got shot. >evil grin>

Jenny - Not really soon, but, here's the update :-D Enjoy.

Chapter 19

Booker's eyes widened as the gun went off. Both Greene and Adler seemed to freeze for a split second before the kid staggered back. From where he stood, Dennis felt like he was watching a movie, Adler falling almost in slow motion, his own weapon rising almost of it's own accord. He fired, barely feeling the kickback as he watched the impact of the bullet knock Greene into the chalkboard.

The moment Greene hit the floor, though, he snapped out of the slightly stunned haze and half-jumped the teacher's desk to reach Adler's side. He'd just knelt beside him when the door banged open, and without looking up, yelled for the newcomer – Penhall, as it turned out – to call an ambulance.

He heard Doug relay the message to someone else and glanced over in time to see the other man kneel next to Greene. "Is he alive?" he asked tersely.

"Yeah. Shot went high, right shoulder," his partner replied. "What the hell happened?"

"Not now." Dennis tore open Adler's shirt, then ripped off the sleeve and balled the cloth, pressing it against the bullet hole in the kid's stomach, only belatedly realizing someone had brought a first-aid kit. Keeping pressure on the wound, he opened the kit with one hand and pulled out a handful of gauze pads. "Open those." He thrust them at a teacher hovering by his elbow, then shoved the kit toward Penhall.

"Kyle, say something, kid, will you?"

"Didn't… think…"

No kidding, he thought to himself, though he wasn't about to say it aloud. "It's okay. Just keep talking, don't matter what you say." If the kid lost consciousness, he wanted to know when.

"Hurts, Dennis."

"Yeah, gunshot wounds aren't much fun," he muttered. "Ambulance'll be here soon." He replaced the blood-soaked cloth with a handful of gauze, then moved one hand to take Adler's. "Squeeze my hand; it'll help a little."

"Not… whole lot."

"That's why I said a little." He forced a smile at the boy, his stomach clenching at the fear in the kid's eyes, and glanced over at Penhall. "Is he conscious?"

"Uh-uh. He hit his head on the chalk tray." Doug looked ill. "Sorry I wasn't here, man…"

"Not now," Booker snapped. He wanted to have that conversation somewhere where he could give Penhall what he'd been wanting to for the last couple weeks – a nice right hook.

A second later he heard sirens scream and, rising slightly, was able to see a police cruiser and an ambulance pulling into the lot. "Someone go show them where to come," Doug barked, before Dennis had the chance.

Booker was only too glad to hand care of Adler over to the first paramedics who came through the door, though the kid refused to release his hand until he was in the ambulance and had garnered a promise that Dennis would come to the hospital. Greene hadn't regained consciousness by the time he was on his way, but the EMTs had assured both Dennis and Doug, as well as the patrol officers who'd responded to the call, that he would be fine.

As he tried to wipe the blood from his hands, Dennis closed his eyes and leaned against his own car, trying to figure out if there was any way he could have prevented what had happened in the classroom. His thoughts were interrupted when Doug and one of the uniformed officers approached. "Would someone like to tell me what's going on here?"

It took a second for Dennis to realize that the man standing in front of him – Officer Reed – had been one of the men to respond to Joanne's party the day before. "We're on a case—"

"I gathered that," Reed interrupted.

"What did happen?" Penhall asked. At the officer's questioning glance, Doug shrugged. "I was outside, getting the wool pulled over my eyes by some kids." He shot a glare over his shoulder at three boys clustered behind him, who seemed to shrink under his gaze.

Dennis blinked. "Wait, what?"

"How about I ask the questions here?" Reed snapped. "What happened, in the classroom?"

"I had Greene against the wall, about to cuff him, when Adler came in with a gun pointed at him. Surprised me, and Greene shoved me off him, but he froze when I drew mine." He gestured toward the holster he was wearing, though he didn't really remember returning the weapon to its proper place. "I started trying to talk Adler out of it, and the second he started to lower the gun, Greene went after him. I didn't fire until I had a clear shot, because I didn't want to hit the kid… but the first clear shot I had was after Adler's gun went off." He closed his eyes, visualizing the entire scene.

"So Greene shot Adler?" Doug asked, his voice – to Dennis's surprise – void of skepticism.

"I don't know. The gun went off. I don't even know who had a finger on the trigger. Couldn't see."

"So you fired after the kid was shot?" Reed pressed.

"As he was falling, immediately after the gun went off."

"You couldn't have done anything before then?"

Biting back a retort that would probably get him suspended when all was said and done, Booker shook his head. "No. If I tried to get in between them, I'd have probably gotten myself shot. And if I'd tried to shoot Greene beforehand, I could have hit the kid." As he said the words, a wave of anger washed over him and he balled his fist, pounding it into the hood of the car. "I was this close to getting them both out of there without a fucking scratch." It infuriated him that he hadn't been able to prevent it.

"Whoa, cool out, man," Doug interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "From the sound of it, you handled it as well as anyone could've." He shot a hard look at Reed, that didn't go unnoticed by Dennis. "At least, sounds that way to me."

The officer gave a grudging nod, then effectively ended the conversation, doing nothing more than handing Dennis his clipboard to sign the statement. "We'll call you," he said as he walked away, leaving the two officers alone.

After a minute or two Dennis spoke, more because the silence between them was too much for him to deal with at the moment. "Thanks."

Doug looked genuinely surprised. "For what?"

"You know that guy Reed thinks I screwed up."

"Yeah, well, if anyone screwed up it sure wasn't you," Penhall replied, shaking his head.

Resisting the urge to agree with Doug, Dennis just shrugged. "What happened?"

"One of Adler's friends came flying down the hall, yelling that somebody'd been hit by a car. Followed him outside, the kid's sitting up, leaning against the car, and says he jumped out of the way before he got hit. Didn't have a scratch."

"A trick?" Dennis raised an eyebrow.

"That's what I'm thinking." Doug looked down. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have fallen for it."

"I would have." Booker shrugged. "Forget it." He shoved his hands in his pockets, still a little tinged with red from Adler's blood. "I'm going to the hospital to see how Adler is, and then home. Tell Tom for me, will you?"

"Fuller'll have your ass in a sling if you don't come back to the Chapel," Penhall pointed out.

Dennis had already turned away and didn't look back. "I'll live."

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

Once he reached the hospital, Dennis showed his badge to the young woman at the desk and said, "I'm here about Kyle Adler. He was brought in with a gunshot wound about an hour ago, maybe a little longer."

"Oh, yes." The woman nodded, giving him a smile that seemed out of place in the emergency room. "He's in surgery at the moment."

"Anyone here for him?"

"His parents. Over there." She nodded toward a well-dressed couple in the corner. The woman looked like she'd been crying, and was leaning heavily on her husband. Dennis thanked the girl without a second glance and walked away.

He kept his badge out as he made his way over. "Mr. and Mrs. Adler?"

"Yes." The father frowned. "Who—"

Booker raised the badge. "I'm Officer Dennis Booker. I was assigned to investigate the complaint you and your son filed against Derek Greene, and I was present today when he was shot." He gestured to a set of chairs. "Would you both sit down?"

Once they were seated Mrs. Adler, still clinging to her husband, said, "I wasn't aware there was an investigation. They told us that they would look into the situation, but that it would be difficult to get anywhere…" She trailed off and blinked against tears in her eyes, and Dennis wordlessly handed her a tissue from the box resting on a table next to him.

"There has been, for a couple of weeks now." He paused. "I assume the police have already spoken to you about today?" When the father nodded, he went on. "How much did they tell you?"

"Just that his teacher had been shot as well, and that they were investigating," Mr. Adler replied bitterly. "They wouldn't even tell us who shot him."

"That's because they don't know exactly what happened; I don't, and I was there." Dennis paused. "Your son brought a gun to the school, with the intention of shooting Mr. Greene."

"Kyle—" Mrs. Adler began, then stopped and glanced over at her husband. "Where could he have gotten a gun?"

Booker was a little surprised that neither of them protested the idea that their son would have done such a thing, but didn't comment. Instead, he waited until Mr. Adler spoke again.

"Danny." He raised his eyes. "My brother Danny… he has a handgun. Kyle was over there last night." He hesitated. "Was… was it a revolver?"

Dennis nodded slowly. "It was."

"Did you shoot my son?"

Booker started, surprised as much by Kyle's mother's sudden question as by the tone of her voice. Where he'd have expected accusations, he heard only sadness and resignation. "No, I didn't. Kyle came into the classroom when I was about to arrest Greene. He startled me, and I lost my grip. Greene started toward Kyle, but he stopped because we were both aiming at him. I started trying to talk Kyle out of shooting him, and just as he started to put the gun down, Greene went after him. I didn't have a clear shot, and then the gun went off. I don't know if Greene actually shot him, or if it just went off in the struggle."

They were all silent for a while, before Mrs. Adler said, "Thank you."

Dennis raised an eyebrow. "For?"

"For telling us. And for trying to stop him. I… I had no idea." She blinked and shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue. "What will happen to him?"

"I don't know. The most he could be charged with is unlawful possession of a firearm, and assault. And there are mitigating circumstances, and psychological issues to consider…" he trailed off at Mr. Adler's strained look.

"Are you saying our son is crazy, Officer Booker?" he asked tightly, his eyes making clear just what he thought of that.

"Not at all." Dennis leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "I'm just saying that when the DA considers the case, I know they'll consider the emotional trauma that brought him to that point."

The man relaxed a bit at that. "I'm sorry, officer. This has all just been very… difficult… on all of us. Kyle in particular, of course, but, well…"

Realizing that Mr. Adler was struggling for words, Dennis spoke. "Of course. I understand." He paused and straightened up. Standing, he dug in his pocket for a business card and then handed it over to Kyle's father. "I need to get going, but I'd promised Kyle I would come to the hospital, and I wanted to speak to you, to let you know what happened."

"Thank you." Mrs. Adler stood. "We do appreciate it… we appreciate everything you've done for our son."

"I wish I could have done more." He took a deep breath and released it slowly. "If you could call me when you know more about Kyle's condition, I'd appreciate it. And… tell him I'll come back tomorrow."

With that and a couple of quick handshakes, he left the hospital. Driving off, he wondered how many phone messages he'd be coming home to, and made a mental note not to play a single one.