"Cleansing" - ch. 20
Holy fucking hell. It's been two months since I've updated this fic!
Title: Cleansing (ch. 20)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Tom/Doug, Doug/OC, Fuller
Disclaimer: I don't own 21 Jumpstreet, nor it's characters. All belong to Callen and peeps.
Warnings: M/M, slash, angst, language
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: Hopefully, it won't take as long for the next chapter. Hopefully. By this time next week, hopefully I'll have my trusty laptop back too.
Link to chapter 19: here
Chapter Twenty
****
It was one o’clock in the afternoon, and Tom had barely stirred whatsoever in his sleep. There was an occasional grunt or muffled word and bouts of twitching; other than that, he appeared to be resting quite peacefully.
Doug had woken up at ten-thirty, read the day’s newspaper, fixed a pot of coffee, and then merely took to watching his partner sleep from where he sat on the other couch. With such a stunning, serene face, Doug found it easy to become enthralled with Tom’s good looks to pass the time.
Shortly after one, Doug approached the prone figure and shook his arm gently.
“Tom,” he muttered sweetly. “Tommy. Time to wake up.”
A low, displeased groan was the response, followed by hands weakly batting at the air.
Doug laughed a little and affectionately squeezed his shoulder. “Come on, buddy. You have that meeting with Fuller today, remember?”
Tom rolled onto his right side to put his back to the older cop and groggily mumbled, “Ten more minutes.”
“Fine. Ten more minutes. Then it’s up!”
Tom swatted his hand over his shoulder to signal Penhall to go away and sighed heavily as he drifted back to dream land. It hardly felt like any time had passed before Penhall was shaking his arm again. No matter how much he moaned and quietly argued in protest, his partner would not leave him alone. At last, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, yawned, and stretched.
“What time is it?”
“Almost one-thirty.”
“Shit. Didn’t think it was that late.”
“You were out like a light.”
“Fuller call or anything? Asking where I am?”
“Nope, but I figure we’d better get over there before three, at least.”
“You ready?”
“Yeah. You want some breakfast, er, lunch before we go?”
Hanson shook his head. “No, I’m good. I’ll just eat somethin’ when we get back.”
“You gonna put some pants on first?”
The young man glanced down to discover he was only wearing his boxers with his t-shirt and hoodie, and his cheeks turned a light shade of red from embarrassment. “Yeah. That would be good.”
“I’ll get ‘em.”
Doug escaped into the bedroom for a moment and returned with a pair of gray sweat pants that had already been “doctored” so that Tom could put them on easily even with his brace. They looked a tad funny with the right leg slit all the way up to his thigh, causing the fabric to flap around his injured appendage, but they had to suffice. In Tom’s eyes, they were comfortable, and that was all that mattered.
Once they were outside the apartment building, Doug had to carry Tom down the six or so stairs to reach the sidewalk; stairs were still something he was not able to do by himself yet. People walking by glanced at the two men a bit callously and commented to one another in hushed tones. Not only were they a somewhat odd sight, but Hanson knew now why the public would stare at him so spitefully and ridicule him; they undoubtedly knew who he was and held him in low-esteem.
Shyly, Tom kept his face turned away from the public, not only feeling embarrassment for himself, but for Doug as well; it was because of him that Doug was being pointed and sneered at. The older officer did not seem bothered by the attention whatsoever. He kept up a confident stride as he headed for his friend’s Mustang. It was parked a few yards away, and once the two of them were in the car, Tom said sheepishly, “I’m sorry for all that.”
Starting the engine, Doug shook his head and replied, “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah….right….”
“Bunch of idiots, all of them.”
Tom smiled faintly, though stayed quiet.
The rest of the trip was spent in silence.
****
With a heavy sigh in an attempt to calm his nerves, Tom knocked on the door of his superior’s office. There was a clear command of “come in,” to which he obeyed with slight trepidation. He closed the entrance quietly and looked at Captain Fuller expectantly. Presently, Fuller was focused on a pile of papers at his desk, not bothering to glance up to see who his guest was.
“Hey, Coach,” Tom greeted with a half-smile.
Fuller raised his head and got to his feet, smiling a little in return as he stated, “Good to see you, Hanson. Have a seat.”
Tom muttered a small “thank you” as he limped toward the nearest chair in front of Fuller’s desk. He laid his crutches down on the floor next to him and nervously waited for what he knew was coming.
“How’ve you been?” Fuller asked kindly.
“Good, I guess. Been better. Doug’s doing a good job of helping me out.”
“Yes, well, you can always count on Penhall to come through.”
“Yeah.”
“I suppose you know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“I believe I have a pretty good idea.”
“The district has requested your resignation from the Jump Street program and from law enforcement altogether.”
Tom merely nodded, his eyes drifting to gaze at anything other than Fuller’s somber expression.
“I’m truly sorry, Hanson.”
“Like I haven’t heard that before,” he mumbled.
“Have you given thought to what type of job you’d want to pursue?”
“No. Doug and I were just going to drive around and pick up applications from various places. I’ll take anything, though I doubt I’ll get lucky.”
“Why’s that?”
“Who would want to hire me? Not just because of my physical condition at the moment, but because I know there’s a good chance they saw how I got this way. If people here don’t want to work with me because of that, why should I expect any different from strangers?”
“I’m sure there’s something for you that you’ll find. I can even write you a letter of recommendation if you like.”
“Thanks, but it won’t be necessary.”
“Look, Hanson,” Fuller began as he got up and walked around to take a seat on the edge of his desk in front of Tom. “I know there’s probably nothing I can say that will make things any easier or better, but I want you to know you don’t have to go through this alone.”
“Yeah, I know.” There was a short pause before he added, “I’m sorry, Captain.”
Fuller folded his arms and stared at Tom, puzzled. “Why are you apologizing, Hanson?”
“For….everything.” Tom bowed his head and let out a heavy breath. “For messing up, for the negative press the program’s gotten, for-”
“Have you really been blaming yourself for all this?”
No response.
“Hanson….Tom, none of what’s happened is your fault. You’ve been horribly wronged, but you’re absolutely not the one who’s caused any of the vicious crimes against you or the present intolerance you’re facing on any part. It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he said softly and with minute confidence. “Look, uh, I can’t really hand over my badge and weapon; they took them from my apartment when they got me. That much I remember.”
“We found them at Benton’s house.”
“Oh….okay. Good. No word on who the last two accomplices were?”
“Not yet. Neither of them are giving up names at the moment.”
Tom began to rub his forefinger along his lower lip as was common when he was troubled or thinking deeply.
“The hearing date has been set for next Wednesday at noon.”
“Coach?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think I want to go through with it….pressing charges, going to court, all of it.”
“Hanson, if you don’t, they’ll walk.”
“I know.”
“And that’s what you want? You’d be fine knowing they get a clean break from all the trauma they put you through?”
“Yeah.” The stern, inquiring expression Fuller had made him re-consider. “Maybe….No. I just don’t….want to be in the same room with them or talk about what happened in front of a crowd of people. I’d just like to forget about it.”
“If only it were that easy, but it’s not. None of this has been easy for you, but if I’ve learned anything about you, it’s that you’re a strong young man. You have the drive and a tough spirit in you that most people dream of having. You’ve overcome some heavy ordeals in the past and have come out on top; I don’t think this one will be any different. You’ll make it through all of this.”
Tom gave a sincere smile, nodded, and looked at the other man. “Thanks, Coach. I appreciate it.”
They shook hands and shared a few more words with each other before Tom left the office. He headed over to his desk with Doug trailing behind him and gazed at his previous work area. There were already a couple of boxes sitting atop his desk, waiting to be packed.
“I should get started on this,” he muttered, surveying the numerous personal items he would have to take home.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it tomorrow or something.”
“No, I can do it.”
“Tom.”
The younger man met his partner’s understanding eyes, realizing that it would be best to have his friend pack up for him; he knew there was a good chance of him becoming emotional while cleaning out his space, and that was something he did not want to deal with in front of people.
“Yeah, okay,” he said faintly.
“Ready to go?”
“Sure.”
“Job hunting?”
“Yeah.”
****
“So,” Doug began as he settled back into the driver’s seat and started the car. “How many does that one make?”
“Um….Seven, it looks like.”
“Not bad. How many more places did you want to run by?”
“We’ve hit all the ones hiring and ones that are in my league. Mcdonald’s, Burger King, Rocket Dog, Walmart, Rent a Video, the Cineplex, and The Bookshelf. I say we call it a day.”
“Alright. You got it.”
On the ride home, Tom thumbed through the applications absently, imagining all the ways they could go about rejecting him.
****
After two hours, Hanson tossed his pen down, leaned back in his chair, and announced exasperatedly, “There. All seven applications finished.”
“You know, you might’ve been done earlier if you hadn’t taken some of those meds. Clouded your head; I could tell.”
“Could you? Well, thank you for the observation, Doogie Howser.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I’m just sayin’!”
“I know. I should’ve waited a while longer, but the pain was coming on pretty quick. Had to take something to make it back off.”
Doug nodded in understanding; he had actually been a little surprised that his friend had not taken more. It had been his observation that Hanson had been in a decent amount of discomfort.
“Now, doctor, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower.” Tom was up and heading toward the bedroom in a number of seconds, Doug following him like a puppy.
“A shower? Don’t you remember what happened the last time you tried taking one?”
Removing his shirt, Hanson thought for a brief moment before answering. “No, not really.”
“Well, I do. You blacked out and banged your head pretty hard.”
“Guess that’d explain why I can’t remember then, huh?” He kicked his boxers aside and went into the bathroom.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Doug stated as Tom turned on the water and pulled up the lever to move the water up to the showerhead. He looked away as Tom put on his protective brace sleeve, feeling his face flush from the always wonderful sight of his partner’s naked body.
“Doug, I’ll be fine. Really.”
“I don’t know, Tommy.” By the time the sentence was out of his mouth, Tom was beginning to step into the bathtub. “Tom.”
“I’ll be fine.”
The curtain was pulled closed, and Doug sighed in defeat. An idea suddenly hit him, then; quickly, he started to strip down until all of his clothes were on the floor. Quietly, he crept into the tub, drawing the curtain closed behind him, and simply gazed at his best friend standing nude under the cascading water. Hanson’s back was to Doug as he rubbed his hands on his face and torso. When he turned around several seconds later, he jumped and gasped from discovering Doug behind him. The older cop smiled coyly in response to the startled reaction.
“Doug!” Hanson exclaimed, his hands moving to cover his genitals. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“Oh come on; it’s not like I haven’t seen all of you before.”
Tom scowled, easing up ever so slightly. “That’s not the point.”
“Look, I just want to make sure nothing bad happens, okay? This way, I can catch you if you get too light headed. Is that cool?”
Tom glanced away briefly, sighed, and nodded. “Yeah. It’s cool.”
“Great. You want help-”
“No,” Tom hurriedly interrupted him. “I want to try doing this all on my own.”
“Okay. No problem.”
Doing his best to pretend his former partner was not there - and very much in the buff - Tom squeezed some shampoo into his palm and massaged it into his hair. So far, it appeared that he was not having any sort of trouble, making Penhall wonder if his plan was going to be useful or not. However, once the shampoo was washed from Hanson’s hair and he began to soap and scrub his body, his strength was dwindling. His knee started to ache, and there was a dull throbbing in his ankles. His vision seemed to narrow as his head began to hurt. Doug realized this and drew Tom against him in a gentle hug.
“Feelin’ okay?” he asked next to Hanson’s ear.
“Yeah, just….feel tired and sore. Little dizzy.”
“Give it a minute.”
Hanson relaxed in his friend’s embrace, holding onto the larger man not only to keep from collapsing, but from the genuine comfort he gave off. For a couple of minutes, the sound of running water was all that could be heard. The two men remained rather motionless beneath the warm waterfall until Hanson at last pulled away, assuring Penhall that he was fine and the faint spell had passed for the most part.
Tom did not remain in the shower for much longer. He stepped out, leaving Doug alone to finish washing up, and dried off leisurely. The water-protective sleeve was hung back up on the hook behind the door before he went into the bedroom. By the time Doug was done with the rest of his shower a few minutes later, Hanson had on a pair of boxers, a white t-shirt, and Doug’s hoodie. He headed into the living room, retrieved the mail they had gotten before coming up to his apartment, and settled on the couch. There were a couple of the usual nasty nature; two pieces were from the hospital and his landlord. From merely seeing the senders on both envelopes, he got a disconcerting feeling in his stomach. Both were no doubt asking for the same thing: money - something he was lacking in at the moment. The letter from his landlord was nothing more than a brief, unexplained notice that his rent would be going up by one hundred fifty dollars, beginning next month. The hospital’s mail was a bill for medical expenses, stating there were two months before he had to begin the payment process. The total was well over one hundred thousand dollars. The number made Tom’s head spin. Extreme worry filled him, thinking of how he would be able to pay for it all.
“What’s that?”
Penhall’s voice broke him out of his silent panic, prompting him to look at his partner coming to sit beside him.
“Hospital bill. And my rent’s going up.”
“What? Why?”
“Didn’t say. I’ll bet anything that my neighbors complained about me and this is a way to get me to move instead of being outright evicted.”
“How much did it go up by?”
“One-fifty.”
“Christ. Hey, if you need some help paying-”
“No thanks. I don’t want your money.”
“How about your mom? I’m sure she’d help.”
“She’s not even talking to me, Doug. I doubt she’d let me borrow money from her. Besides, this is my problem. I’ll figure something out. I need to get one of these jobs. Can you take me to turn in all those applications tomorrow?”
“Sure thing, buddy.”
“Great.” There was a pause for a minute before Tom spoke again. “Hey, Doug?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not….I’m not keeping you from going out, am I?”
“What do you mean?”
“Shouldn’t you be going on dates with what’s her name, hanging at bars, clubs - you know, having a life? I don’t want you to feel you have to be with me constantly, every day. You barely go home, for god’s sakes. I’m not saying I don’t like having you with me, because I do; but I don’t want to be the reason why you….don’t have fun anymore,” he finished quietly.
Penhalll nodded, thinking his friend’s words over in his head. It was true - Tom keeping him from doing anything truly enjoyable. For the past week or so, he had felt more like a parent than anything. He knew it was not fair to put Tom in the same category of needs as children, but that was Doug’s feeling. All he ever did anymore was go to work, come home to Tom’s apartment, and spend all of his free time taking care and being with the younger man. It was taxing, and he had not realized how much of himself he had been giving up for Tom.
“Well,” he started, exhaling a deep breath. “If you think you’d be alright being on your own more, I’ll go back to sleeping at my apartment. Yeah, I’d like to go on dates with Dianna and have some alone time, but not until I know you’ll be okay without me here.”
Hanson smiled and put his hand on Doug’s back in a friendly gesture. “I’ll be okay. I feel so much better now than when you brought me home from the hospital. I really think I can handle being alone. Besides, I know I can always call you if something happens.”
Penhall laughed a little. “You’re absolutely right. You know I’m always here for you, Tommy.”
“I know.”
“Do you wanna try today? I can go ahead and go and then just pick you up tomorrow to drop off applications.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Alrighty. I’ll take home whatever crap I’ve brought over later. I’m pretty sure my stuff’s spread out all over the place.”
“No problem. You want me to walk you out?”
“Nah, I’m a big boy.” Tom grinned amusedly at the statement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Wanna say….between one and two?”
“Sounds good.”
“Alright. Be careful, okay?”
“Yes mother,” Tom said smartly.
“Ha, funny. Bye Tommy.”
“Bye Dougie.”
After hearing the door close, Hanson picked up one of the unopened envelopes on the table. It looked normal enough, not offensive in any way. Once opened, however, he was proven otherwise. The words made his heart almost stop; he went utterly pale and was breathless. The paper read:
You better watch your back, Tommy. Two of us haven’t been caught yet, and we’re starting to have a hankering for the good ol’ times we had in the past. You know the ones we’re talking about. Maybe we’ll even pay you since you’re just such a good lay. Think of it as a new job opportunity considering you got fired. This could be perfect for you. We could be your first paying customers, Tommy. Give it some thought. Even if you say “no,” we’ll still get you. We know where you are. Perhaps we’ll even finish the job we failed to do: murdering you.
His hands trembling, Tom placed the note on the table and stared at it for a long while. It was definitely possible for them to come into his apartment; they had done it before. And it would be extremely easy for them to overpower him.
He made to get the phone, but stopped himself, sighed, and rested back on the couch. Calling Doug would solve nothing. Not only would it most likely irritate his partner and make him come back, it would prove he was not strong enough to handle being alone. He forgot what it was like to be this afraid, wondering if and when an uninvited guest would break into his apartment.
“Stop thinking about it,” he whispered to himself. “Stop. You’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. You don’t need Doug to be a bodyguard. You’ll be fine tonight.”
It was not until six the next morning when he finally fell asleep, curled up and quivering on the couch.
Title: Cleansing (ch. 20)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Tom/Doug, Doug/OC, Fuller
Disclaimer: I don't own 21 Jumpstreet, nor it's characters. All belong to Callen and peeps.
Warnings: M/M, slash, angst, language
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: Hopefully, it won't take as long for the next chapter. Hopefully. By this time next week, hopefully I'll have my trusty laptop back too.
Link to chapter 19: here
Chapter Twenty
****
It was one o’clock in the afternoon, and Tom had barely stirred whatsoever in his sleep. There was an occasional grunt or muffled word and bouts of twitching; other than that, he appeared to be resting quite peacefully.
Doug had woken up at ten-thirty, read the day’s newspaper, fixed a pot of coffee, and then merely took to watching his partner sleep from where he sat on the other couch. With such a stunning, serene face, Doug found it easy to become enthralled with Tom’s good looks to pass the time.
Shortly after one, Doug approached the prone figure and shook his arm gently.
“Tom,” he muttered sweetly. “Tommy. Time to wake up.”
A low, displeased groan was the response, followed by hands weakly batting at the air.
Doug laughed a little and affectionately squeezed his shoulder. “Come on, buddy. You have that meeting with Fuller today, remember?”
Tom rolled onto his right side to put his back to the older cop and groggily mumbled, “Ten more minutes.”
“Fine. Ten more minutes. Then it’s up!”
Tom swatted his hand over his shoulder to signal Penhall to go away and sighed heavily as he drifted back to dream land. It hardly felt like any time had passed before Penhall was shaking his arm again. No matter how much he moaned and quietly argued in protest, his partner would not leave him alone. At last, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, yawned, and stretched.
“What time is it?”
“Almost one-thirty.”
“Shit. Didn’t think it was that late.”
“You were out like a light.”
“Fuller call or anything? Asking where I am?”
“Nope, but I figure we’d better get over there before three, at least.”
“You ready?”
“Yeah. You want some breakfast, er, lunch before we go?”
Hanson shook his head. “No, I’m good. I’ll just eat somethin’ when we get back.”
“You gonna put some pants on first?”
The young man glanced down to discover he was only wearing his boxers with his t-shirt and hoodie, and his cheeks turned a light shade of red from embarrassment. “Yeah. That would be good.”
“I’ll get ‘em.”
Doug escaped into the bedroom for a moment and returned with a pair of gray sweat pants that had already been “doctored” so that Tom could put them on easily even with his brace. They looked a tad funny with the right leg slit all the way up to his thigh, causing the fabric to flap around his injured appendage, but they had to suffice. In Tom’s eyes, they were comfortable, and that was all that mattered.
Once they were outside the apartment building, Doug had to carry Tom down the six or so stairs to reach the sidewalk; stairs were still something he was not able to do by himself yet. People walking by glanced at the two men a bit callously and commented to one another in hushed tones. Not only were they a somewhat odd sight, but Hanson knew now why the public would stare at him so spitefully and ridicule him; they undoubtedly knew who he was and held him in low-esteem.
Shyly, Tom kept his face turned away from the public, not only feeling embarrassment for himself, but for Doug as well; it was because of him that Doug was being pointed and sneered at. The older officer did not seem bothered by the attention whatsoever. He kept up a confident stride as he headed for his friend’s Mustang. It was parked a few yards away, and once the two of them were in the car, Tom said sheepishly, “I’m sorry for all that.”
Starting the engine, Doug shook his head and replied, “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah….right….”
“Bunch of idiots, all of them.”
Tom smiled faintly, though stayed quiet.
The rest of the trip was spent in silence.
****
With a heavy sigh in an attempt to calm his nerves, Tom knocked on the door of his superior’s office. There was a clear command of “come in,” to which he obeyed with slight trepidation. He closed the entrance quietly and looked at Captain Fuller expectantly. Presently, Fuller was focused on a pile of papers at his desk, not bothering to glance up to see who his guest was.
“Hey, Coach,” Tom greeted with a half-smile.
Fuller raised his head and got to his feet, smiling a little in return as he stated, “Good to see you, Hanson. Have a seat.”
Tom muttered a small “thank you” as he limped toward the nearest chair in front of Fuller’s desk. He laid his crutches down on the floor next to him and nervously waited for what he knew was coming.
“How’ve you been?” Fuller asked kindly.
“Good, I guess. Been better. Doug’s doing a good job of helping me out.”
“Yes, well, you can always count on Penhall to come through.”
“Yeah.”
“I suppose you know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“I believe I have a pretty good idea.”
“The district has requested your resignation from the Jump Street program and from law enforcement altogether.”
Tom merely nodded, his eyes drifting to gaze at anything other than Fuller’s somber expression.
“I’m truly sorry, Hanson.”
“Like I haven’t heard that before,” he mumbled.
“Have you given thought to what type of job you’d want to pursue?”
“No. Doug and I were just going to drive around and pick up applications from various places. I’ll take anything, though I doubt I’ll get lucky.”
“Why’s that?”
“Who would want to hire me? Not just because of my physical condition at the moment, but because I know there’s a good chance they saw how I got this way. If people here don’t want to work with me because of that, why should I expect any different from strangers?”
“I’m sure there’s something for you that you’ll find. I can even write you a letter of recommendation if you like.”
“Thanks, but it won’t be necessary.”
“Look, Hanson,” Fuller began as he got up and walked around to take a seat on the edge of his desk in front of Tom. “I know there’s probably nothing I can say that will make things any easier or better, but I want you to know you don’t have to go through this alone.”
“Yeah, I know.” There was a short pause before he added, “I’m sorry, Captain.”
Fuller folded his arms and stared at Tom, puzzled. “Why are you apologizing, Hanson?”
“For….everything.” Tom bowed his head and let out a heavy breath. “For messing up, for the negative press the program’s gotten, for-”
“Have you really been blaming yourself for all this?”
No response.
“Hanson….Tom, none of what’s happened is your fault. You’ve been horribly wronged, but you’re absolutely not the one who’s caused any of the vicious crimes against you or the present intolerance you’re facing on any part. It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he said softly and with minute confidence. “Look, uh, I can’t really hand over my badge and weapon; they took them from my apartment when they got me. That much I remember.”
“We found them at Benton’s house.”
“Oh….okay. Good. No word on who the last two accomplices were?”
“Not yet. Neither of them are giving up names at the moment.”
Tom began to rub his forefinger along his lower lip as was common when he was troubled or thinking deeply.
“The hearing date has been set for next Wednesday at noon.”
“Coach?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think I want to go through with it….pressing charges, going to court, all of it.”
“Hanson, if you don’t, they’ll walk.”
“I know.”
“And that’s what you want? You’d be fine knowing they get a clean break from all the trauma they put you through?”
“Yeah.” The stern, inquiring expression Fuller had made him re-consider. “Maybe….No. I just don’t….want to be in the same room with them or talk about what happened in front of a crowd of people. I’d just like to forget about it.”
“If only it were that easy, but it’s not. None of this has been easy for you, but if I’ve learned anything about you, it’s that you’re a strong young man. You have the drive and a tough spirit in you that most people dream of having. You’ve overcome some heavy ordeals in the past and have come out on top; I don’t think this one will be any different. You’ll make it through all of this.”
Tom gave a sincere smile, nodded, and looked at the other man. “Thanks, Coach. I appreciate it.”
They shook hands and shared a few more words with each other before Tom left the office. He headed over to his desk with Doug trailing behind him and gazed at his previous work area. There were already a couple of boxes sitting atop his desk, waiting to be packed.
“I should get started on this,” he muttered, surveying the numerous personal items he would have to take home.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it tomorrow or something.”
“No, I can do it.”
“Tom.”
The younger man met his partner’s understanding eyes, realizing that it would be best to have his friend pack up for him; he knew there was a good chance of him becoming emotional while cleaning out his space, and that was something he did not want to deal with in front of people.
“Yeah, okay,” he said faintly.
“Ready to go?”
“Sure.”
“Job hunting?”
“Yeah.”
****
“So,” Doug began as he settled back into the driver’s seat and started the car. “How many does that one make?”
“Um….Seven, it looks like.”
“Not bad. How many more places did you want to run by?”
“We’ve hit all the ones hiring and ones that are in my league. Mcdonald’s, Burger King, Rocket Dog, Walmart, Rent a Video, the Cineplex, and The Bookshelf. I say we call it a day.”
“Alright. You got it.”
On the ride home, Tom thumbed through the applications absently, imagining all the ways they could go about rejecting him.
****
After two hours, Hanson tossed his pen down, leaned back in his chair, and announced exasperatedly, “There. All seven applications finished.”
“You know, you might’ve been done earlier if you hadn’t taken some of those meds. Clouded your head; I could tell.”
“Could you? Well, thank you for the observation, Doogie Howser.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I’m just sayin’!”
“I know. I should’ve waited a while longer, but the pain was coming on pretty quick. Had to take something to make it back off.”
Doug nodded in understanding; he had actually been a little surprised that his friend had not taken more. It had been his observation that Hanson had been in a decent amount of discomfort.
“Now, doctor, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower.” Tom was up and heading toward the bedroom in a number of seconds, Doug following him like a puppy.
“A shower? Don’t you remember what happened the last time you tried taking one?”
Removing his shirt, Hanson thought for a brief moment before answering. “No, not really.”
“Well, I do. You blacked out and banged your head pretty hard.”
“Guess that’d explain why I can’t remember then, huh?” He kicked his boxers aside and went into the bathroom.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Doug stated as Tom turned on the water and pulled up the lever to move the water up to the showerhead. He looked away as Tom put on his protective brace sleeve, feeling his face flush from the always wonderful sight of his partner’s naked body.
“Doug, I’ll be fine. Really.”
“I don’t know, Tommy.” By the time the sentence was out of his mouth, Tom was beginning to step into the bathtub. “Tom.”
“I’ll be fine.”
The curtain was pulled closed, and Doug sighed in defeat. An idea suddenly hit him, then; quickly, he started to strip down until all of his clothes were on the floor. Quietly, he crept into the tub, drawing the curtain closed behind him, and simply gazed at his best friend standing nude under the cascading water. Hanson’s back was to Doug as he rubbed his hands on his face and torso. When he turned around several seconds later, he jumped and gasped from discovering Doug behind him. The older cop smiled coyly in response to the startled reaction.
“Doug!” Hanson exclaimed, his hands moving to cover his genitals. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“Oh come on; it’s not like I haven’t seen all of you before.”
Tom scowled, easing up ever so slightly. “That’s not the point.”
“Look, I just want to make sure nothing bad happens, okay? This way, I can catch you if you get too light headed. Is that cool?”
Tom glanced away briefly, sighed, and nodded. “Yeah. It’s cool.”
“Great. You want help-”
“No,” Tom hurriedly interrupted him. “I want to try doing this all on my own.”
“Okay. No problem.”
Doing his best to pretend his former partner was not there - and very much in the buff - Tom squeezed some shampoo into his palm and massaged it into his hair. So far, it appeared that he was not having any sort of trouble, making Penhall wonder if his plan was going to be useful or not. However, once the shampoo was washed from Hanson’s hair and he began to soap and scrub his body, his strength was dwindling. His knee started to ache, and there was a dull throbbing in his ankles. His vision seemed to narrow as his head began to hurt. Doug realized this and drew Tom against him in a gentle hug.
“Feelin’ okay?” he asked next to Hanson’s ear.
“Yeah, just….feel tired and sore. Little dizzy.”
“Give it a minute.”
Hanson relaxed in his friend’s embrace, holding onto the larger man not only to keep from collapsing, but from the genuine comfort he gave off. For a couple of minutes, the sound of running water was all that could be heard. The two men remained rather motionless beneath the warm waterfall until Hanson at last pulled away, assuring Penhall that he was fine and the faint spell had passed for the most part.
Tom did not remain in the shower for much longer. He stepped out, leaving Doug alone to finish washing up, and dried off leisurely. The water-protective sleeve was hung back up on the hook behind the door before he went into the bedroom. By the time Doug was done with the rest of his shower a few minutes later, Hanson had on a pair of boxers, a white t-shirt, and Doug’s hoodie. He headed into the living room, retrieved the mail they had gotten before coming up to his apartment, and settled on the couch. There were a couple of the usual nasty nature; two pieces were from the hospital and his landlord. From merely seeing the senders on both envelopes, he got a disconcerting feeling in his stomach. Both were no doubt asking for the same thing: money - something he was lacking in at the moment. The letter from his landlord was nothing more than a brief, unexplained notice that his rent would be going up by one hundred fifty dollars, beginning next month. The hospital’s mail was a bill for medical expenses, stating there were two months before he had to begin the payment process. The total was well over one hundred thousand dollars. The number made Tom’s head spin. Extreme worry filled him, thinking of how he would be able to pay for it all.
“What’s that?”
Penhall’s voice broke him out of his silent panic, prompting him to look at his partner coming to sit beside him.
“Hospital bill. And my rent’s going up.”
“What? Why?”
“Didn’t say. I’ll bet anything that my neighbors complained about me and this is a way to get me to move instead of being outright evicted.”
“How much did it go up by?”
“One-fifty.”
“Christ. Hey, if you need some help paying-”
“No thanks. I don’t want your money.”
“How about your mom? I’m sure she’d help.”
“She’s not even talking to me, Doug. I doubt she’d let me borrow money from her. Besides, this is my problem. I’ll figure something out. I need to get one of these jobs. Can you take me to turn in all those applications tomorrow?”
“Sure thing, buddy.”
“Great.” There was a pause for a minute before Tom spoke again. “Hey, Doug?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not….I’m not keeping you from going out, am I?”
“What do you mean?”
“Shouldn’t you be going on dates with what’s her name, hanging at bars, clubs - you know, having a life? I don’t want you to feel you have to be with me constantly, every day. You barely go home, for god’s sakes. I’m not saying I don’t like having you with me, because I do; but I don’t want to be the reason why you….don’t have fun anymore,” he finished quietly.
Penhalll nodded, thinking his friend’s words over in his head. It was true - Tom keeping him from doing anything truly enjoyable. For the past week or so, he had felt more like a parent than anything. He knew it was not fair to put Tom in the same category of needs as children, but that was Doug’s feeling. All he ever did anymore was go to work, come home to Tom’s apartment, and spend all of his free time taking care and being with the younger man. It was taxing, and he had not realized how much of himself he had been giving up for Tom.
“Well,” he started, exhaling a deep breath. “If you think you’d be alright being on your own more, I’ll go back to sleeping at my apartment. Yeah, I’d like to go on dates with Dianna and have some alone time, but not until I know you’ll be okay without me here.”
Hanson smiled and put his hand on Doug’s back in a friendly gesture. “I’ll be okay. I feel so much better now than when you brought me home from the hospital. I really think I can handle being alone. Besides, I know I can always call you if something happens.”
Penhall laughed a little. “You’re absolutely right. You know I’m always here for you, Tommy.”
“I know.”
“Do you wanna try today? I can go ahead and go and then just pick you up tomorrow to drop off applications.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Alrighty. I’ll take home whatever crap I’ve brought over later. I’m pretty sure my stuff’s spread out all over the place.”
“No problem. You want me to walk you out?”
“Nah, I’m a big boy.” Tom grinned amusedly at the statement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Wanna say….between one and two?”
“Sounds good.”
“Alright. Be careful, okay?”
“Yes mother,” Tom said smartly.
“Ha, funny. Bye Tommy.”
“Bye Dougie.”
After hearing the door close, Hanson picked up one of the unopened envelopes on the table. It looked normal enough, not offensive in any way. Once opened, however, he was proven otherwise. The words made his heart almost stop; he went utterly pale and was breathless. The paper read:
You better watch your back, Tommy. Two of us haven’t been caught yet, and we’re starting to have a hankering for the good ol’ times we had in the past. You know the ones we’re talking about. Maybe we’ll even pay you since you’re just such a good lay. Think of it as a new job opportunity considering you got fired. This could be perfect for you. We could be your first paying customers, Tommy. Give it some thought. Even if you say “no,” we’ll still get you. We know where you are. Perhaps we’ll even finish the job we failed to do: murdering you.
His hands trembling, Tom placed the note on the table and stared at it for a long while. It was definitely possible for them to come into his apartment; they had done it before. And it would be extremely easy for them to overpower him.
He made to get the phone, but stopped himself, sighed, and rested back on the couch. Calling Doug would solve nothing. Not only would it most likely irritate his partner and make him come back, it would prove he was not strong enough to handle being alone. He forgot what it was like to be this afraid, wondering if and when an uninvited guest would break into his apartment.
“Stop thinking about it,” he whispered to himself. “Stop. You’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. You don’t need Doug to be a bodyguard. You’ll be fine tonight.”
It was not until six the next morning when he finally fell asleep, curled up and quivering on the couch.