"So that's it?" Doug asked, trying to hold his temper.

"I'm sorry, guys. But right now, Eckert is your only lead."

Doug and Captain Fuller drove to the hospital, following Detective Michaels' car. They were silent, both men still processing the information they had just been given by CSI Hicks.

Doug finally broke the silence. "Hey, Cap'n?"

"Yeah?"

"She said…" He cleared his throat. "Um…they found…uh…why would Tom's…um…"

Fuller knew what Doug was thinking and spared him the embarrassment of having to finish the question. "I don't know, Doug. Right now I can't fathom that any of this is really happening, let alone how or why it happened." He sighed. "Let's just wait and see what Hanson has to say."

Doug looked at the captain, then back out the window. "Yeah," he replied.

At the hospital, they met Dr. Marcus as he was leaving Tom's room. The officer had been moved earlier that morning to a private room. "Gentlemen," he greeted them.

"Hey, doc," said Doug. "How's he doing?"

"He's a bit anxious, but I think he's ready to talk to you. "

Fuller asked, "Has he talked to the psychologist yet?"

Dr. Marcus shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. I really wanted him to do that before he spoke to you, but he refused. I think before he's ready to delve deeper into things he probably just wants to get this out of the way. And that might not be such a bad idea…break the ice, so to speak. Once he's done that, there's pretty much no going back, so…having the support of his friends when this all gets started is going to be pretty important."

"We just want to do whatever we can to make it easier for him…help him get through it," replied Fuller.

"That's good to hear," said the doctor. "Well…he knows you're here, so you can go on in anytime. Have a nurse give me a call if you need anything."

"Thanks, doc," said Doug. His stomach was in knots, but he turned to Fuller and Michaels and asked, "You guys ready?" They nodded, and the three of them headed for the door to Tom's room.

Tom lay in the dimly lit room…waiting. He had put it off as long as he could, but now they were here. His fingers clenched and unclenched the sheet that was covering him. How was he going to tell them everything? He knew that they knew what had happened. He wasn't sure if that was going to make talking to them easier or harder, but he supposed it really didn't matter. He was going to have to do this at some point, so he might as well get it over with.

There was a soft knock at the door, and the three men entered the room. As they came closer, Tom recognized the captain and Doug. He had to fight to keep his composure. So far he had seen only his mother and the doctors and nurses. The sight of more familiar faces filled him with overwhelming emotion. It gave him a sense of security, but he also felt embarrassment and uncertainty. How would they react to what had happened? And what would they think of him? He swallowed the fear as well as the lump that was forming in his throat. Hands shaking, he clutched the sheet tighter and pulled it up a little higher.

Doug and Fuller approached the bed and greeted their friend with smiles. "Hi, Tom," said the captain.

"Hey, buddy," added Doug. "How you doing?"

Tom looked up at them and then away again. "Okay. Thanks." Try as he might, he could not keep the tremble out of his voice.

Captain Fuller noticed Tom's eyes welling up and wondered to himself if this was a good idea. Perhaps the psychologist should be here as well for this. But there was no turning back now. "Look, Tom," he said. "I know this is hard for you. But we just…"

"I'm okay," Tom interrupted, clearing his throat. He moved a little farther up on the bed so that he was sitting up more, grimacing at the pain it caused in his ribs and stomach. Doug made a move toward him to help, but Tom stopped him short when he shouted, "I said I'm okay!"

Doug stepped back and he and the others looked at Hanson. His head was bowed, his arm slung across his middle, and it looked like he was trying to keep from crying. Finally he looked up at them. His expression betrayed the regret he felt about his outburst but also the despair he was feeling. He tried his best to put on a neutral face and asked softly, "What do you want to know?"

The three men looked at each other, and then Michaels stepped forward. "Officer Hanson," he said, "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Detective Mark Michaels. We worked a drug smuggling case together at Mosely High about a year ago."

Tom nodded slightly. "Yeah. Hi."

Doug and Fuller sat down in chairs a few feet away from the bed. Michaels pulled a chair close to the bedside and sat down. "Look…Tom…we already know who did this. You don't have to give a lot of details right now. I just need to know the basics, okay?" He leaned over closer to the bed to make eye contact with Tom. "Okay?"

"Okay," Tom responded, barely audible. He appeared to relax a little, settling back into the pillows and sighing.

"Good," said Michaels as he opened his notepad and took out his pen. "We'll go slowly. Let's start at the beginning. How did all of this start?"

Tom took a deep breath and let it out, looking up at the ceiling before casting his eyes down and starting to speak. "It was after Doug dropped me off in front of my place. It was…um…I…" He clutched the sheet again and began to twist it nervously. He looked plaintively at the detective. "I…I don't remember what day it was."

"It's okay," said Michaels sympathetically. "Go on."

"I…didn't go in right away. I should have. I watched him drive away before I turned to go in, and…somebody grabbed me…from behind." Tom sighed before continuing. "They pushed me into the back of a car…onto the floor."

"Did you see who it was?"

Tom shook his head. "No…they kept me down until…until the car stopped."

"Then what?" asked Michaels.

"They pulled me out…onto the ground." He looked down at his hands, still twisted in the sheets. "…started…kicking me." He let out a shaky breath. "There were two of them…then they…they dragged me over to…it was him…" He looked up at the detective. "It was Eckert," he whispered, his lips trembling.

Michaels looked at his notepad and jotted a few things down. He was trying to remain detached and professional, but he couldn't help feeling bad for the kid. It made him sick to think about what had happened, and hearing it from Tom himself was even worse.

Doug and Fuller were listening as well, but their position in the room, away from the bed, made it seem as if Michaels and Hanson were having this discussion alone. Tom was focusing on the detective, and he seemed to have forgotten that they were there. It was probably for the best, as he appeared to be growing more comfortable with the detective the more they talked.

"So it was Eckert," Michaels said. "Did you recognize the other two?"

"No," Tom answered. "I couldn't see them very well. They were usually…they were…holding me while he…punched me."

"Okay. So what happened next?"

"He told me…a judge let him out." He looked at Michaels. "Is that true?" he asked.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm afraid so, Tom. But it wasn't right. He shouldn't have. Eckert shouldn't be out right now." Michaels fought back the anger that was rising and encouraged the young man, "Go on."

"Well, he was…saying a bunch of stuff…how he was gonna…teach me some lessons…things he'd learned…in jail. He just kept…beating on me. Then I was on the ground…I passed out. When I woke up…they were still there." He looked away, toward the far corner of the room, as a visible shudder ran through his body.

"Hey," said Michaels. "You're doing good. Do you need a break?"

Tom looked back at him and shook his head. "No…no, let's get it done."

"Okay. Take your time."

"So they dragged me back over by the car. He pushed me down over the hood and he was…touching me…all over…and…" Tom's breathing was becoming more labored now, and he was squirming, shrinking back into the pillows. "He was putting his mouth on me…on my neck…my ear…God…he smelled so bad…he was in my face…saying things…"

Doug and Fuller were getting more uncomfortable by the minute listening to Tom's account, but they knew this had to be done and they knew they needed every bit of information to make a case against Eckert. So they steeled themselves for what they knew was coming.

Tom continued, "I was looking up at the sky…the moon…trying to think of a way out. He turned me over…tied my hands behind me…stuffed something into my mouth…I don't know what was on it…it tasted awful. He shoved it in and tied it there. I…I…thought I was gonna choke on it."

Michaels' eyes flitted to the abrasions from the ropes on Tom's wrists and face, then back to his notebook. He was finding it harder and harder to look at the officer as he told his story.

Tom sighed again. "I knew what he was gonna do. I knew it. I tried to get away. I really did." He looked at Michaels.

"I know," the detective said. "I know you did. Tom, it was three against one. I don't know about the other two, but from what I've heard Eckert is a pretty big guy. They had you outnumbered…injured…and tied up." He shook his head. "There wasn't anything you could do."

Hanson's eyes met those of the other man, and he silently thanked him for those words. He wasn't quite sure he believed them…not yet. But he was so relieved to hear someone say them.

"Anyway…every time I struggled, he'd start hitting me again. My head hurt so bad. He had a gun…he held it to my head…put it in my mouth…then I was face down…one of the other guys was holding me down…I couldn't breathe…and he was…he was…behind me…he was…pulling my jeans down." Tom took a deep breath. He felt like he was going to get sick. His hands were shaking hard again, despite the death grip he had on the sheet. He couldn't do this. He couldn't go back there.

Detective Michaels looked at Tom and saw the young man's distress. Just as quickly, though, he saw a quiet, detached calm come over the officer. Surprised and intrigued, he leaned in a little closer as Tom started to speak again, this time more quickly.

"Then he did it. He raped me. Twice. Then he threw me on the ground. The others kicked the shit out of me again. And they threw me behind the dumpster and left me there." He looked up at Michaels. "That's it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. He said he wasn't gonna kill me because he wanted me to remember it and to know he could come back and do it again." He leaned back and pulled the sheet up some more.

Doug and Fuller stood up and came over to the bed. "That's not going to happen, Tom," said Fuller. "We're going to get him. He's going back to jail for this."

Tom shook his head. "I don't care. I'm not pressing charges."

The three men all looked at each other in surprise and Doug asked, "What? What do you mean? Don't you want this guy put away for this?"

"Doesn't matter," Tom replied, staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him. "He's a career criminal. He'll go down for something else before long."

"But…" Doug began.

"Doug," said Fuller. "It's okay."

"But don't you want him to go down for this?" Doug finished, his voice getting louder.

"It doesn't matter," Tom said again.

"Well," said Michaels, "it's not really up to you, I'm afraid. Assault on a police officer is a crime against the city. They'll prosecute for it."

"I'm not testifying."

"Tom…" Michaels started to reply before he was stopped by Fuller.

"Hey…hey…it's okay," the captain said. "There's plenty of time to talk about this later. Tom, we're going to leave you alone…let you get some rest, okay?"

"Yeah," he responded quietly without looking up.

Doug looked on as Fuller asked his friend, "Are you okay?"

Tom looked up and smiled a small smile at them. "Yeah…yeah…I'm fine. Thanks for coming by."

"We'll check in with you later, okay?" said Fuller.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Fuller and Michaels left the room, with Doug following behind, turning to take one more look at his partner as Tom settled back against the pillows again, a distant look on his face. Doug went out into the hallway and met up with the others who were discussing what had just happened.

"This is fine for now," Michaels was saying. "The D.A. will want more details in the deposition, of course, but with this and the DNA evidence we have enough to arrest Eckert now."

"I thought we would," said Fuller. "Get your guys to pin down a location, and we're with you. Right, Doug?" He looked at his officer, but Penhall was staring back down the hall where Tom's room was located. "Doug?!"

"Huh?!" Doug looked back at the men. "What?"

"I said we want to go with them to get this guy. Right?"

"Oh yeah. Yeah…sure," he replied, still obviously distracted. "Hey, I'll catch up with you later, okay?" he asked, and then without waiting for an answer headed back down the hall.

Michaels and Fuller just looked at each other and shrugged.

Doug approached the doorway to Tom's room and cautiously peered into the dim room. Tom was still sitting propped up in the bed against the pillows. He had one arm draped over his eyes and the other across his middle. Doug quietly entered the room and walked closer to him. He could hear the soft weeping sounds coming from his friend. He moved closer, and not wanting to frighten him spoke softly. "Tom?"

Hanson flinched a little at the sound but did not uncover his face.

"Hey, man…" Doug wasn't really sure what to say. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

Tom took his arm away from his face and looked up. His face was wet with tears, his eyes sad and lonely. He tried to regain his composure and look strong, but as Doug approached him he lost it. His face crumpled in tears and he brought his hands up to his face to cover it, but as he did he felt arms around him. He tried to pull away but the arms held tight, so he just accepted it. The feeling of comfort overwhelmed him, and he began to sob in earnest, finally putting his arms around Doug as well and clutching him tightly as he cried.

Well, I got this updated sooner than I anticipated. I hope you guys like it. Thanks again for all of the great reviews. I really appreciate hearing from you!