"Cleansing" - ch. 13 (Day 12 still)
Title: Cleansing (ch. 13)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Tom/Doug
Disclaimer: I don't own 21 Jumpstreet, nor it's characters. All belong to Callen and peeps.
Warnings: M/M, slash, angst, even the tiniest dash of het! Oh my!
Summary: After having killed a teen, Doug tries to comfort his partner. Neither had any idea of the harsh consequences that were to come from Tom merely doing his job.
A/N: That was pretty damn quick, if I do say so myself. :) Some more fluffiness going on, so enjoy that. "belle of the ball" quote came from the Halloween episode of "NewsRadio"
Link to chapter 12: here
Chapter Thirteen
****
New Year’s Eve found Doug at a party he had no particular interest in. Dianna, whom he had formed a somewhat “steady” relationship with, had taken him to a friend’s large house where many other people had been invited. He felt awkward and out of place, hanging at her side and not saying much. His mind wandered and his attention faltered whenever she joined a conversation. Last year, he had gone to Oscar’s bar with the Jump Street gang to spend the evening and drink until the new year rolled in. A smile came to his face as he remembered Tom sitting beside him, laughing and playing around - even daring to challenge Doug to a drinking contest, which, to no surprise, Tom lost.
“Doug?”
He shook his head to bring his focus back and turned to look at Dianna.
“Yeah?”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, um, I think I’m gonna go.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, I’ll be fine. You stay here and have a good time.”
“Okay. Call me later?”
“Yeah, sure. Definitely.”
They shared a quick kiss before he left the house and began walking down the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for a taxi.
****
With an unopened bag of various candies and a bottle of wine, Doug strode into the hospital room and crossed the area to his friend, who was shielded behind the privacy curtain. He grinned charmingly at Tom, and the younger man let out a weak laugh.
“Hey Tommy!” Doug greeted energetically.
“Hey Doug!” Tom attempted to return the hello with equal vigor, though fell rather short.
“Ready to stay up for awhile?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“You have to be up to bring in the new year!”
“I’ll try.”
“I got things to snack on and alcohol to pop open at twelve.”
“You’ll have to enjoy them without me.”
“What? Why?”
“I can’t have anything to eat or drink until after my surgery tomorrow.”
“Aw, I’m sorry, Tom. I didn’t know.”
“Hey, don’t get so down about it. Just means there’s more for you to enjoy,” he ended with a chuckle.
“I’ll share a drink with you once you get out of the hospital. How’s that?”
“Sounds good.”
Doug took a seat in the chair next to Tom’s bed and opened a miniature Hershey bar to nibble on. He refrained from eating too many of the sweets due to feeling guilty over having some when Tom could not.
“So how come you’re not at some swanky party tonight?” Tom asked lightheartedly.
“Mm, I was, but it wasn’t anything special. Wasn’t having a good time. But I knew I’d have a good time hanging out with you.”
“Well, thank you. Nice to hear that.”
Doug glanced at his watch and then to the TV, which had Dick Clark’s New Year’s Eve Bash on. “Only two more hours. You feeling okay? Awake?”
“Don’t worry, Doug. I won’t leave you to celebrate the first alone,” Tom assured with a smile.
“Good. I’d cry if I had to. So what’s your surgery tomorrow?”
“Skull. Wrist too, I think.” He swallowed hard and glanced away for a moment, deciding on whether to confess his fear or not.
Doug seemed to read his mind, for he asked gently, “Are you scared?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“I don’t blame you. It’s scary stuff, man.”
“I’ve been through a couple already; you’d think I’d be used to it, but I’m still afraid. They always say there’s that chance that something could go wrong, you won’t wake up, you’ll die….And it’s my head tomorrow - that’s what scares me the most. What if my-”
“Brain explodes?” Doug cut in, trying not to laugh.
Tom glared at him with feigned annoyance. “No, that’s a bit ridiculous, Dougie. But something just as bad. Like, an aneurism or….I don’t know. I just….”
“Hey, you’re gonna get yourself all worked up over this and then feel sick and then you’re not going to be able to go through with it and you have to.”
“I know, I know.”
“I wish I could be in there with you.”
“You or my mom,” he uttered quietly, not thinking Doug would hear.
“She hasn’t come by again, has she?”
Tom shook his head somberly. “No, she hasn’t come.”
“Do you want me to call her? Ask her why? I could do it right now.”
“No, don’t. It’s….It’s okay. I think I know why she hasn’t, anyway.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s, uh….She’s ashamed of me, Doug.”
Those words should not have even been in the same sentence in Doug’s mind. The statement seemed so absurd, so untrue, so sad. How could Margaret Hanson be ashamed of her only son? Tom had done nothing that could make her feel such a way, had no control over what had happened to him - how could she possibly be appalled by him when he had done nothing wrong?
“Tom….Why? Why the hell would she be ashamed of you? You had no choice. You couldn’t stop them from doing what they did.”
“It’s not just because of them, it’s….she asked if I had slept with….men before them, and I….I told her the truth. I told her ‘yes’ and with only one man, one time.”
“What? Why would you do that?” The question was out before Doug could catch himself. His nerves were getting the better of him.
“I couldn’t lie to her; she’s my mom.”
“Yes, you could’ve. You’ve had to have lied to your mom sometime in the past.”
“This time was different. You don’t understand.”
The helpless, wearied look on Tom’s visage made Doug scold himself for upsetting his friend. “Tom, I’m….I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to….”
“It’s alright. Hey, um, why don’t we talk about something else?”
“Sure, okay. Like what?”
“Tell me all you’ve been doing the past few weeks.”
Other than watching almost every single time they raped you, hit you, touch you, violate you, crush you, bathe you? Doug bit his tongue, not daring to speak the thought aloud. He was not even sure if Tom knew he had been filmed every single second of every single day for millions and millions of people to see. To be safe, he decided not to mention a word about it.
“Well, um….While you were missing, I mostly worked on trying to find you with the rest of the gang. Besides, I couldn’t go out and expect to have fun without you around,” he added with a sweet grin.
Tom smiled kindly and nodded. “Of course, seeing as how I’m always the belle of the ball,” he joked.
“Oh definitely.”
They shared a good laugh and several more as they continued to talk, passing away the time before the important minute came for the night.
****
“Do you wanna talk about what happened?”
“Not particularly. To tell the truth, I really don’t remember what happened. There’s a few things that stand out, but mostly, the whole ordeal is pretty vague.”
Tom sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, taking comfort from feeling the steady rise and fall of Doug’s chest. He was stretched out on his right side, being careful to keep his right leg extended and in a comfortable position. Doug was lying on his back next to him, though a bit more propped up by pillows. His arm was around Tom’s bony shoulders, holding him closely, and his other rested beside Tom’s left arm that was stretched across his stomach.
“Honestly,” the younger man continued softly, “I’m sort of glad I don’t remember much. I think I’d be more messed up than I am if I did. This way, I won’t have to be forced to tell a psychologist about anything because I don’t remember. It’s good that no one really knows what happened.”
Doug swallowed, keeping down the urge to shoot down Tom’s theory; he did not have the heart to correct him. “Yeah,” he agreed after a number of seconds. “Good that nobody really knows. So you don’t remember much of anything? Seriously?”
“Other than the sledgehammer and showers, no, I don’t.” There was no way he would confess to his best friend that he was raped on numerous occasions - even if he truly only did remember it occurring approximately five times out of the more realistic one-hundred-forty.
“You’ll probably get your memory back. The doc said it’s normal for you to have memory loss and forgetfulness.”
“Question is: Do I want it back?”
Doug was about to respond, yet Tom interjected before he could.
“There it goes.”
Both of their gazes were fixed on the television screen, watching the bright, flashing circular object slowly move down the pole atop a New York City building. They could hear the enormous crowd chanting the countdown, and quietly, Tom and Doug joined them.
“Ten….Nine….Eight….Seven….Six….Five….Four….Three…Two….One.”
Fireworks shot up into the air and the mob cheered.
Tom smiled a little and let out a small sigh. “Happy New Year, Doug.”
“Happy New Year, Tom.”
“I didn’t think I was going to make it to see January first.”
“I couldn’t be more thankful that you did.”
Tom could not stay awake very long after the Time’s Square bash concluded. He fell asleep in Doug’s embrace, causing undeniable adoration to flow through the older cop. Doug closed his eyes merely to “rest” them before he planned to get up and leave, but he too was soon fast asleep.
****
“Is this what you thought it would be like?” Doug inquired lightly.
“No. It’s better.” Tom moved his arms from around his partner’s waist to wrap them about Doug’s neck. “Much better.”
As they continued to sway back and forth to the music playing softly on the radio, Tom lifted his head and kissed Doug tenderly. The large hands resting on his hips inched upward along his sides then to the collar of his shirt to start unbuttoning the garment. Excitement sparked within Tom’s body, rising in intensity whenever he felt Doug’s fingers brush against his bare skin as they moved downward. When the last had been undone, Doug parted the fabric and let his palms rove over his lover’s torso. Tom laid his head on the older man’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and sighed contently. Hot pleasure surged through him as he gave in to the astounding sensations.
“Mm, Doug….You want to go to the bedroom?”
“That’s too far,” Doug whispered huskily into the younger male’s ear. “I want you now.”
“What are you suggesting then, officer?”
Without breaking apart, Doug carefully lead Tom backward until they reached the couch. Tom obligingly lowered himself onto the piece of furniture, bringing his partner with him as he stretched out on his back. The fingers that had once been rubbing against his chest were now groping him through his jeans. He moaned blissfully and raised his hips in approval, yearning for Doug to claim his body.
“Take me, Doug,” he begged breathlessly.
“Is that what you want?”
“Ohhnn….Yes.”
Wasting no time, Doug had Tom’s jeans and boxers discarded on the floor in less than a minute. The smaller man’s thin frame was trembling with anticipation. A little while later, after much fondling and kissing, Doug penetrated his lover, drawing a long groan from Tom.
“Happy New Year, baby,” Doug said adoringly.
Tears were forming in Tom’s eyes, and he did not know whether he was crying because of his extreme happiness or indescribable pleasure coursing through him….
**
Doug was startled awake from feeling something hitting him numerous times. He opened his eyes, ready to yell at whoever it was, yet the annoyance dwindled rapidly when he discovered what was truly happening.
Tom was thrashing about, his right arm and even his feet kicking Doug in the side. His eyes were tightly shut, his skin shined with sweat, and he was making distressing noises. Doug shifted downward to sit near his partner’s waist and faced him, taking hold of his upper arms.
“Tom! Tom! Wake up, buddy. Wake up! Tom!”
Hanson’s eyes shot open, and a loud cry came from his throat. The brown orbs darted all about the room, not seeming to be really seeing anything; the instant his wild gaze landed on Penhall, he began to scream in terror.
“Go away!” he shrieked, tears raining down his cheeks. “Leave me alone!”
“Tom! It’s me! It’s Doug!”
“Please just leave me alone! Don’t touch me!”
“You have to calm down! I’m not going to hurt you!”
“No! Stop touching me! Stop it! I don’t want it! Get off of me! Go away!”
Penhall stared frantically at his friend, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, four nurses ran into the room, and Doug got up to move out of their way. Three of them did their best at restraining Tom, pinning him to the bed and trying to soothe him by talking to him. The fourth was preparing a needle that was soon inserted into an opening in the IV tube running into Hanson’s vein, and the liquid content was emptied out to flow into his body.
“Is he okay?” Doug asked anxiously. “Is he okay? What’s wrong with him?”
None of them answered him right away, but rather concentrated on relaxing Hanson as best they could until the sedative took effect. It did not take long, and as three of them worked on re-situating the disheveled sheets and straightening out Hanson’s gown, the female nurse went to Doug to give a brief explanation about the panicky, riled episode. After she had finished, she left him by saying that it was best if he left at that moment.
Doug looked worriedly at Tom, who was now lying motionless and silent, and nodded understandingly. Without an arguing word, he followed the nurses out the door and found himself heading home.
****
As planned, Doug returned to the hospital the next evening, hoping that Tom had not had any more “episodes” since the one the previous night. He had forgotten that Tom was slotted for an operation during the day and had most likely been tranquil the majority of the time. When he stepped foot into the room, he remembered.
The first thing that reached him was the sound of someone moaning weakly in agony. He glanced at the teenager in the first bed, observing that it was not him making the pitiful noises.
“Someone should put him out of his misery,” the invalid stated gloomily after shifting the oxygen mask down so he could speak. “He’s been crying in pain ever since they brought him back, poor guy. Looked painful, so I don’t blame him.”
“He’s awake, then?”
“Maybe.”
“Have they given him pain medication, do you know?”
“Maxed him out on everything.”
Doug swallowed hard, muttered a sincere “thank you,” and crossed the room to be behind the privacy curtain with Hanson. What he saw tore his heart in half. Hanson lay on his back, occasionally writhing about, and uncontrollably whimpered wretchedly. There was some sort of contraption encasing the top of his head, and it stayed in place with the help of bolts puncturing through his skin; Doug grew faint at the thought of the metal possibly penetrating his skull as well.
“Oh Jesus, Tom,” Penhall uttered under his breath.
He moved to stand near the head of the bed and gazed down sympathetically at his partner. The younger man’s eyes were half-way opened, yet could not concentrate on anything specific. It was as if he were in an entirely different world.
“Tom? It’s Doug. Can you hear me?”
A strangled sob came from Hanson before he looked to the side to find Penhall. “Doug?” he asked in a strained voice.
“Yeah, I’m here. It’s me.”
“It hurts so much,” Hanson managed to say as he wept incessantly. “It hurts. Make it go away, please, god.”
“Can’t they give you more meds to lessen the pain? Maybe knock you out?”
“They’ve already given me all they can for now. Can’t for another couple hours. God, I want it now. I just wanna go home, Doug. I just wanna go home.”
“I know, Tommy, I know. But you won’t be leaving for awhile. I’m so sorry.”
Witnessing his friend in such an enormous amount of anguish made Doug badly wish that he could take all of that away; he would gladly switch places with Hanson just to see him finally free of agonizing torture.
“Make it go away,” Tom pleaded desperately. “Please Doug. Help me.”
“I….I can’t,” the older cop whispered, tears at last trickling down his face. “Believe me, I would if I could.” As he stared at Tom from head to toe, he noticed the young male’s left wrist and hand were wrapped differently than before and had fewer pins poking out. “Did they work on your hand too?”
“I wanna go home. It hurts, it hurts,” Tom repeated helplessly.
“Tom? Did they work on your hand?” The lack of an answer made him realize his partner could no longer comprehend anything other than the terrible anguish he was submerged in.
Doug dragged the chair to the right side of the bed and sat down. He laced his fingers with Tom’s and delicately kissed each one individually.
“You’re going to be okay, Tommy. You’re strong; you’ll make it.”
Doug remained silent as Hanson continued to mumble incoherently to himself. The state of dementia went on until a nurse entered the room and administered various medications in differing doses. The drugs eventually rendered Tom unconscious, to which Penhall was tremendously grateful for. While Hanson slept, the older officer stayed at his side, gently massaging the frail hand in his, and contemplated the harsh consequences of Tom’s imprisonment. He realized now that it was nothing but foolish hope to believe Tom Hanson would resemble even half the person he had once been. Too many physical injuries affected him to the point where he would certainly not be the same in that respect. And emotionally, Doug was starting to see just how greatly the events had impacted his friend mentally.
Whenever Tom would be released from the hospital, it was very clear to Doug that the path to true recovery would just be beginning.
--------------
A/N: How do you get 140 occurences of rape? Take five (for the number of guys) times two (which is the average amount each raped him per day) then times that by 14 (two weeks). Just thought I'd share that to show how I came up with it.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Tom/Doug
Disclaimer: I don't own 21 Jumpstreet, nor it's characters. All belong to Callen and peeps.
Warnings: M/M, slash, angst, even the tiniest dash of het! Oh my!
Summary: After having killed a teen, Doug tries to comfort his partner. Neither had any idea of the harsh consequences that were to come from Tom merely doing his job.
A/N: That was pretty damn quick, if I do say so myself. :) Some more fluffiness going on, so enjoy that. "belle of the ball" quote came from the Halloween episode of "NewsRadio"
Link to chapter 12: here
Chapter Thirteen
****
New Year’s Eve found Doug at a party he had no particular interest in. Dianna, whom he had formed a somewhat “steady” relationship with, had taken him to a friend’s large house where many other people had been invited. He felt awkward and out of place, hanging at her side and not saying much. His mind wandered and his attention faltered whenever she joined a conversation. Last year, he had gone to Oscar’s bar with the Jump Street gang to spend the evening and drink until the new year rolled in. A smile came to his face as he remembered Tom sitting beside him, laughing and playing around - even daring to challenge Doug to a drinking contest, which, to no surprise, Tom lost.
“Doug?”
He shook his head to bring his focus back and turned to look at Dianna.
“Yeah?”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, um, I think I’m gonna go.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, I’ll be fine. You stay here and have a good time.”
“Okay. Call me later?”
“Yeah, sure. Definitely.”
They shared a quick kiss before he left the house and began walking down the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for a taxi.
****
With an unopened bag of various candies and a bottle of wine, Doug strode into the hospital room and crossed the area to his friend, who was shielded behind the privacy curtain. He grinned charmingly at Tom, and the younger man let out a weak laugh.
“Hey Tommy!” Doug greeted energetically.
“Hey Doug!” Tom attempted to return the hello with equal vigor, though fell rather short.
“Ready to stay up for awhile?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“You have to be up to bring in the new year!”
“I’ll try.”
“I got things to snack on and alcohol to pop open at twelve.”
“You’ll have to enjoy them without me.”
“What? Why?”
“I can’t have anything to eat or drink until after my surgery tomorrow.”
“Aw, I’m sorry, Tom. I didn’t know.”
“Hey, don’t get so down about it. Just means there’s more for you to enjoy,” he ended with a chuckle.
“I’ll share a drink with you once you get out of the hospital. How’s that?”
“Sounds good.”
Doug took a seat in the chair next to Tom’s bed and opened a miniature Hershey bar to nibble on. He refrained from eating too many of the sweets due to feeling guilty over having some when Tom could not.
“So how come you’re not at some swanky party tonight?” Tom asked lightheartedly.
“Mm, I was, but it wasn’t anything special. Wasn’t having a good time. But I knew I’d have a good time hanging out with you.”
“Well, thank you. Nice to hear that.”
Doug glanced at his watch and then to the TV, which had Dick Clark’s New Year’s Eve Bash on. “Only two more hours. You feeling okay? Awake?”
“Don’t worry, Doug. I won’t leave you to celebrate the first alone,” Tom assured with a smile.
“Good. I’d cry if I had to. So what’s your surgery tomorrow?”
“Skull. Wrist too, I think.” He swallowed hard and glanced away for a moment, deciding on whether to confess his fear or not.
Doug seemed to read his mind, for he asked gently, “Are you scared?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“I don’t blame you. It’s scary stuff, man.”
“I’ve been through a couple already; you’d think I’d be used to it, but I’m still afraid. They always say there’s that chance that something could go wrong, you won’t wake up, you’ll die….And it’s my head tomorrow - that’s what scares me the most. What if my-”
“Brain explodes?” Doug cut in, trying not to laugh.
Tom glared at him with feigned annoyance. “No, that’s a bit ridiculous, Dougie. But something just as bad. Like, an aneurism or….I don’t know. I just….”
“Hey, you’re gonna get yourself all worked up over this and then feel sick and then you’re not going to be able to go through with it and you have to.”
“I know, I know.”
“I wish I could be in there with you.”
“You or my mom,” he uttered quietly, not thinking Doug would hear.
“She hasn’t come by again, has she?”
Tom shook his head somberly. “No, she hasn’t come.”
“Do you want me to call her? Ask her why? I could do it right now.”
“No, don’t. It’s….It’s okay. I think I know why she hasn’t, anyway.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s, uh….She’s ashamed of me, Doug.”
Those words should not have even been in the same sentence in Doug’s mind. The statement seemed so absurd, so untrue, so sad. How could Margaret Hanson be ashamed of her only son? Tom had done nothing that could make her feel such a way, had no control over what had happened to him - how could she possibly be appalled by him when he had done nothing wrong?
“Tom….Why? Why the hell would she be ashamed of you? You had no choice. You couldn’t stop them from doing what they did.”
“It’s not just because of them, it’s….she asked if I had slept with….men before them, and I….I told her the truth. I told her ‘yes’ and with only one man, one time.”
“What? Why would you do that?” The question was out before Doug could catch himself. His nerves were getting the better of him.
“I couldn’t lie to her; she’s my mom.”
“Yes, you could’ve. You’ve had to have lied to your mom sometime in the past.”
“This time was different. You don’t understand.”
The helpless, wearied look on Tom’s visage made Doug scold himself for upsetting his friend. “Tom, I’m….I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to….”
“It’s alright. Hey, um, why don’t we talk about something else?”
“Sure, okay. Like what?”
“Tell me all you’ve been doing the past few weeks.”
Other than watching almost every single time they raped you, hit you, touch you, violate you, crush you, bathe you? Doug bit his tongue, not daring to speak the thought aloud. He was not even sure if Tom knew he had been filmed every single second of every single day for millions and millions of people to see. To be safe, he decided not to mention a word about it.
“Well, um….While you were missing, I mostly worked on trying to find you with the rest of the gang. Besides, I couldn’t go out and expect to have fun without you around,” he added with a sweet grin.
Tom smiled kindly and nodded. “Of course, seeing as how I’m always the belle of the ball,” he joked.
“Oh definitely.”
They shared a good laugh and several more as they continued to talk, passing away the time before the important minute came for the night.
****
“Do you wanna talk about what happened?”
“Not particularly. To tell the truth, I really don’t remember what happened. There’s a few things that stand out, but mostly, the whole ordeal is pretty vague.”
Tom sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, taking comfort from feeling the steady rise and fall of Doug’s chest. He was stretched out on his right side, being careful to keep his right leg extended and in a comfortable position. Doug was lying on his back next to him, though a bit more propped up by pillows. His arm was around Tom’s bony shoulders, holding him closely, and his other rested beside Tom’s left arm that was stretched across his stomach.
“Honestly,” the younger man continued softly, “I’m sort of glad I don’t remember much. I think I’d be more messed up than I am if I did. This way, I won’t have to be forced to tell a psychologist about anything because I don’t remember. It’s good that no one really knows what happened.”
Doug swallowed, keeping down the urge to shoot down Tom’s theory; he did not have the heart to correct him. “Yeah,” he agreed after a number of seconds. “Good that nobody really knows. So you don’t remember much of anything? Seriously?”
“Other than the sledgehammer and showers, no, I don’t.” There was no way he would confess to his best friend that he was raped on numerous occasions - even if he truly only did remember it occurring approximately five times out of the more realistic one-hundred-forty.
“You’ll probably get your memory back. The doc said it’s normal for you to have memory loss and forgetfulness.”
“Question is: Do I want it back?”
Doug was about to respond, yet Tom interjected before he could.
“There it goes.”
Both of their gazes were fixed on the television screen, watching the bright, flashing circular object slowly move down the pole atop a New York City building. They could hear the enormous crowd chanting the countdown, and quietly, Tom and Doug joined them.
“Ten….Nine….Eight….Seven….Six….Five….Four….Three…Two….One.”
Fireworks shot up into the air and the mob cheered.
Tom smiled a little and let out a small sigh. “Happy New Year, Doug.”
“Happy New Year, Tom.”
“I didn’t think I was going to make it to see January first.”
“I couldn’t be more thankful that you did.”
Tom could not stay awake very long after the Time’s Square bash concluded. He fell asleep in Doug’s embrace, causing undeniable adoration to flow through the older cop. Doug closed his eyes merely to “rest” them before he planned to get up and leave, but he too was soon fast asleep.
****
“Is this what you thought it would be like?” Doug inquired lightly.
“No. It’s better.” Tom moved his arms from around his partner’s waist to wrap them about Doug’s neck. “Much better.”
As they continued to sway back and forth to the music playing softly on the radio, Tom lifted his head and kissed Doug tenderly. The large hands resting on his hips inched upward along his sides then to the collar of his shirt to start unbuttoning the garment. Excitement sparked within Tom’s body, rising in intensity whenever he felt Doug’s fingers brush against his bare skin as they moved downward. When the last had been undone, Doug parted the fabric and let his palms rove over his lover’s torso. Tom laid his head on the older man’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and sighed contently. Hot pleasure surged through him as he gave in to the astounding sensations.
“Mm, Doug….You want to go to the bedroom?”
“That’s too far,” Doug whispered huskily into the younger male’s ear. “I want you now.”
“What are you suggesting then, officer?”
Without breaking apart, Doug carefully lead Tom backward until they reached the couch. Tom obligingly lowered himself onto the piece of furniture, bringing his partner with him as he stretched out on his back. The fingers that had once been rubbing against his chest were now groping him through his jeans. He moaned blissfully and raised his hips in approval, yearning for Doug to claim his body.
“Take me, Doug,” he begged breathlessly.
“Is that what you want?”
“Ohhnn….Yes.”
Wasting no time, Doug had Tom’s jeans and boxers discarded on the floor in less than a minute. The smaller man’s thin frame was trembling with anticipation. A little while later, after much fondling and kissing, Doug penetrated his lover, drawing a long groan from Tom.
“Happy New Year, baby,” Doug said adoringly.
Tears were forming in Tom’s eyes, and he did not know whether he was crying because of his extreme happiness or indescribable pleasure coursing through him….
**
Doug was startled awake from feeling something hitting him numerous times. He opened his eyes, ready to yell at whoever it was, yet the annoyance dwindled rapidly when he discovered what was truly happening.
Tom was thrashing about, his right arm and even his feet kicking Doug in the side. His eyes were tightly shut, his skin shined with sweat, and he was making distressing noises. Doug shifted downward to sit near his partner’s waist and faced him, taking hold of his upper arms.
“Tom! Tom! Wake up, buddy. Wake up! Tom!”
Hanson’s eyes shot open, and a loud cry came from his throat. The brown orbs darted all about the room, not seeming to be really seeing anything; the instant his wild gaze landed on Penhall, he began to scream in terror.
“Go away!” he shrieked, tears raining down his cheeks. “Leave me alone!”
“Tom! It’s me! It’s Doug!”
“Please just leave me alone! Don’t touch me!”
“You have to calm down! I’m not going to hurt you!”
“No! Stop touching me! Stop it! I don’t want it! Get off of me! Go away!”
Penhall stared frantically at his friend, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, four nurses ran into the room, and Doug got up to move out of their way. Three of them did their best at restraining Tom, pinning him to the bed and trying to soothe him by talking to him. The fourth was preparing a needle that was soon inserted into an opening in the IV tube running into Hanson’s vein, and the liquid content was emptied out to flow into his body.
“Is he okay?” Doug asked anxiously. “Is he okay? What’s wrong with him?”
None of them answered him right away, but rather concentrated on relaxing Hanson as best they could until the sedative took effect. It did not take long, and as three of them worked on re-situating the disheveled sheets and straightening out Hanson’s gown, the female nurse went to Doug to give a brief explanation about the panicky, riled episode. After she had finished, she left him by saying that it was best if he left at that moment.
Doug looked worriedly at Tom, who was now lying motionless and silent, and nodded understandingly. Without an arguing word, he followed the nurses out the door and found himself heading home.
****
As planned, Doug returned to the hospital the next evening, hoping that Tom had not had any more “episodes” since the one the previous night. He had forgotten that Tom was slotted for an operation during the day and had most likely been tranquil the majority of the time. When he stepped foot into the room, he remembered.
The first thing that reached him was the sound of someone moaning weakly in agony. He glanced at the teenager in the first bed, observing that it was not him making the pitiful noises.
“Someone should put him out of his misery,” the invalid stated gloomily after shifting the oxygen mask down so he could speak. “He’s been crying in pain ever since they brought him back, poor guy. Looked painful, so I don’t blame him.”
“He’s awake, then?”
“Maybe.”
“Have they given him pain medication, do you know?”
“Maxed him out on everything.”
Doug swallowed hard, muttered a sincere “thank you,” and crossed the room to be behind the privacy curtain with Hanson. What he saw tore his heart in half. Hanson lay on his back, occasionally writhing about, and uncontrollably whimpered wretchedly. There was some sort of contraption encasing the top of his head, and it stayed in place with the help of bolts puncturing through his skin; Doug grew faint at the thought of the metal possibly penetrating his skull as well.
“Oh Jesus, Tom,” Penhall uttered under his breath.
He moved to stand near the head of the bed and gazed down sympathetically at his partner. The younger man’s eyes were half-way opened, yet could not concentrate on anything specific. It was as if he were in an entirely different world.
“Tom? It’s Doug. Can you hear me?”
A strangled sob came from Hanson before he looked to the side to find Penhall. “Doug?” he asked in a strained voice.
“Yeah, I’m here. It’s me.”
“It hurts so much,” Hanson managed to say as he wept incessantly. “It hurts. Make it go away, please, god.”
“Can’t they give you more meds to lessen the pain? Maybe knock you out?”
“They’ve already given me all they can for now. Can’t for another couple hours. God, I want it now. I just wanna go home, Doug. I just wanna go home.”
“I know, Tommy, I know. But you won’t be leaving for awhile. I’m so sorry.”
Witnessing his friend in such an enormous amount of anguish made Doug badly wish that he could take all of that away; he would gladly switch places with Hanson just to see him finally free of agonizing torture.
“Make it go away,” Tom pleaded desperately. “Please Doug. Help me.”
“I….I can’t,” the older cop whispered, tears at last trickling down his face. “Believe me, I would if I could.” As he stared at Tom from head to toe, he noticed the young male’s left wrist and hand were wrapped differently than before and had fewer pins poking out. “Did they work on your hand too?”
“I wanna go home. It hurts, it hurts,” Tom repeated helplessly.
“Tom? Did they work on your hand?” The lack of an answer made him realize his partner could no longer comprehend anything other than the terrible anguish he was submerged in.
Doug dragged the chair to the right side of the bed and sat down. He laced his fingers with Tom’s and delicately kissed each one individually.
“You’re going to be okay, Tommy. You’re strong; you’ll make it.”
Doug remained silent as Hanson continued to mumble incoherently to himself. The state of dementia went on until a nurse entered the room and administered various medications in differing doses. The drugs eventually rendered Tom unconscious, to which Penhall was tremendously grateful for. While Hanson slept, the older officer stayed at his side, gently massaging the frail hand in his, and contemplated the harsh consequences of Tom’s imprisonment. He realized now that it was nothing but foolish hope to believe Tom Hanson would resemble even half the person he had once been. Too many physical injuries affected him to the point where he would certainly not be the same in that respect. And emotionally, Doug was starting to see just how greatly the events had impacted his friend mentally.
Whenever Tom would be released from the hospital, it was very clear to Doug that the path to true recovery would just be beginning.
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A/N: How do you get 140 occurences of rape? Take five (for the number of guys) times two (which is the average amount each raped him per day) then times that by 14 (two weeks). Just thought I'd share that to show how I came up with it.