I sleepily stumbled into my apartment, locking the door behind me with my eyes practically closed. I yawned as I took my gun belt off and set it on the table. I had one of my longest shifts ever, nearly twenty five hours, and I was so tired.

I had to talk myself into changing into my pajamas, because I was more than willing to sleep in my police uniform. I was like a zombie as I got ready for bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.

I woke up to my phone ringing. My boss, Captain Briody, was on the other line. The sun was shining in my room because I forgot to close the window curtains last night.

"Hello?" I felt groggy.

"Gregg," he said, "we've got a new recruit I want you to train. When can you be here?"

I looked over at my alarm clock and rubbed my eye. "I can be there in an hour."

"Fantastic," he said, "see you then."

I hung up, and I rolled out of bed. I put my uniform back on, and poured myself a cup of coffee. I chugged it, even though I don't like coffee. It was gross.

I drove to the Metro police station, and greeted Briody. He introduced me to Officer Harry Ioki, the newest recruit. Briody assigned us to an easy assignment for Ioki's first day, just patrolling around down town.

I drove the police cruiser slowly through the streets, talking to rookie Ioki about the town. We took a left on Jump Street, and noticed someone scurry down an alley by an abandoned chapel we have on that street.

I pulled over and we stepped out of the vehicle. Ioki and I ran through the steps of what to do and I told him to let me do the talking. We took out our flashlights and started heading down the alley. We shined our flashlights toward the person standing in the dark alley, quickly shoving a wad of cash into his pocket.

His dark hair was tousled and greasy on his head, contrasting against his pale face. His eyes were naturally sunken with dark under eye circles, and he was wearing a ripped up jean vest and a black shirt underneath with denim pants. He was quite skinny, and his hand shook slightly.

"Evening, officers," the man said to us. He looked barely older than me. He squinted at the light that beamed in his eyes from our flashlights, and he had a cigarette balancing between his lips. "Either of you have a light?"

"What's your name?" I asked, approaching him. His mannerisms told me that he was drugged out of his mind, probably under the influence of alcohol too. His crazed eyes bounced all over the place, and he had bruises and track marks along his heavily tattooed arms.

"Who wants to know?" He asked as Ioki grabbed a lighter from his back pocket and lit his cigarette. He took a drag and blew the smoke away.

"Officers Ioki and Gregg," I stated.

"Name's Tom. Tom Hanson."

I lowered my flashlight and asked, "what are you doing here?"

His smile revealed rotting teeth and he asked, "wanna show me a good time, doll?"

I clenched my jaw and put my flashlight away, but Ioki kept his out. I tried to look intimidating by putting my hands on my hips and said, "that's a lot of cash. Wanna tell me how you got it?"

"Workin'," he said nonchalantly.

I recognized this guy as someone the main cop who watches Jump Street has had suspicions of being a drug dealer. I usually don't spend a lot of time on Jump Street. There's just an abandoned chapel there, and a few other empty buildings and random businesses with graffiti on the walls, chained doors, and boarded up windows.

He looked at me and grinned. "You look awful young to be a cop. You look great in that uniform, but it would look better on the floor."

"Watch it, Buddy." Ioki stepped forward.

"It's fine," I reassured him and Tom winked at him. I glared at Tom and said, "bad-mouthing a cop is enough to get you arrested. Did you know that?"

"Are you a drill sergeant? Because you have my privates standing at attention." He gave me a dirty smile, proud of his line. The gums around his teeth were dark and his dental hygiene seemed to be the last thing on his mind. He was certainly missing one, perhaps two teeth. He was excessively itching his arm, scratching off scabs which bled a little.

Ioki stepped forward angrily, prepared to pummel this man. I quickly grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back and yelled, "Ioki! Simmer down."

"Yeah, Ioki, simmer down." Tom popped the collar of his vest. He stopped moving momentarily, and his eyes bugged. His face twitched in pain, and I asked what was wrong. He rubbed his chest and responded, "just a little chest cramp. Happens from time to time."

I looked at Tom's face and noticed that his nose was bleeding. This was a big indication that he probably just snorted something. I stated, "your nose is bleeding."

"Oh, is it?" Tom asked, bringing his fingers up to his nostril and looked at the blood his fingertips picked up. He said, "didn't notice."

"You didn't notice that your nose was bleeding?" I asked, now noticing how dilated his pupils were. I could barely see his brown iris anymore.

"Wanna smoke, hun?" He asked and offered me a cigarette.

"No," I said.

Ioki asked, "are you under the influence of narcotics, sir?"

"Such as?" Tom asked.

"Cocaine?"

Tom laughed a little. "I'm not cool enough to do cocaine. Everything you hate about me is who I really am."

"Hanson, we know you've been using and dealing. Why don't you come with us down town," I said.

Suddenly, Tom froze. His face turned flush and I grew concerned. His legs gave out as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed on the ground, and out of his pocket fell out a bag of cocaine, a razor blade, and a wad of cash.

"Shit," I said and quickly rolled Tom to his side as he began to seize. I turned to Ioki and told him to call an ambulance with the radio in the cruiser, and he ran to do just as I said.

It wasn't the first time I have found someone who was overdosing in front of me. I put my fingers gingerly on his neck and felt his body temperature rise as he heart rate slowed. I pushed some of his hair off his face as I spoke gently to him, informing that help was on the way despite him being unresponsive. He threw up, and I was relieved that I had him turned on his side so we would not choke on his vomit.

"It's okay, just breathe. Help is on the way, Tommy. Hang in there," I said to him kindly.

He stopped vomiting just as Ioki was coming back and informed me that an ambulance was on its way. That's when Tom stopped breathing. I rolled him on his back, and started giving him CPR.

It only took a few minutes for the ambulance to pull up, and one of the EMT's took my place pumping on the poor guy's chest. I was out of breath, and watched as the ambulance bolted down the street and toward the hospital.

"Nights are not always that exciting," I said to Ioki as we walked back to the car. I looked down at my pants, seeing that my knees were covered in Tom's vomit. We decided to head down to the station so I could change.

I emerged from the bathroom, wearing an extra pair of dark pants that I borrowed from one of the other cops at the station and put my soiled ones in a plastic bag to wash when I got home. The phone at my desk started ringing as Ioki was waiting for me, and I went to answer it.

"This is Gregg," I said into the phone.

"Hi Officer Gregg, this is Nurse Kelly from Metro Hospital," the voice on the other line said, "we have your suspect Thomas Hanson here. I was informed that you were the arresting officer."

"Yes, I am," I said.

"Mr. Hanson is awake and alert, and he should be ready to be released after a week in detox," she said. She reassured that he would be watched during the detox process and I would receive a call when he was ready to be released and booked at our jail.

I thanked the nurse, and hung up. I was relieved that Tom was safe and going to get healthy.

It was my understanding that a week had passed when I received another call that it was time to pick up Tom from the hospital. I drove there alone, because Ioki was on another assignment with another cop, and I had to sign in at the front desk. I was escorted to his room, where he was sitting up in the clothes I last saw him in, and he was handcuffed to the bed. He looked tired, worn out, and sick. His face was pale and under his eyes were dark purple. He looked like he had not gotten any sleep in days.

"Officer Gregg, we meet again," he said with a severe lack of energy.

"I'm glad to see you up," I said to him. I took out my keys and asked, "are you ready to go?"

He nodded and I released his handcuffs to the bed. Once he was standing up, I handcuffed his hands behind his back and gave him his Miranda Rights before escorting him out of the hospital. I put him in the back of the car, and drove him to the police station.

When we got there, I gripped his arm and walked him up to the building. He chuckled and said, "why don't you take me out to dinner first?"

"I don't go out with drug dealers," I said sternly.

"I ain't no drug dealer..." he said. I raised my eyebrows at him and he added, "... anymore. I'm clean now."

There was no way he got clean from cocaine and other hard drugs in the one week he was in detox. He was most definitely going through withdrawals, and it was sad for me to see because he was so young.

We got inside and I walked him to one of the jail cells and I opened the door. I turned him around and I uncuffed him before stepping out and closing the cell door. I was starting to lock it when he asked, "what time are you coming back to my place?"

"I'm not," I said firmly.

"Oh-ho-ho. Touchy," he said. He stepped up to the bars just as I turned the key, and I looked up to see him so close to me. I took out a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and stuck one in my mouth and lit it. Tom stuck out his fingers, asking for one himself. I took a puff of mine and gave it to him, which he happily took and had a drag. He blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth and rested his head against the metal bars.

I said, "I'll see you in court, Hanson," before I turned around and headed for the door.

Suddenly, I was in my own bed. I sat up straight and rubbed my eyes after I was blinded by the sunlight that leaked through the edges of my curtains. I had to question what had happened, because it felt so real. Does Jump Street not exist? Is Captain Briody my boss? Is Tom a druggie? Am I a smoker?

I heard a noise coming from outside my bedroom door which made me freeze. I reached for my gun, before I remembered that I left it on a table in the living room of my apartment. I gasped at the flashbacks of Brian and Quincy, with my heart thumping hard in my chest. I tip-toed to my bedroom door and quietly opened it. I peaked my head out, and I saw Tom.

I sighed in relief, and asked what he was doing here. All the tattoos had disappeared, and he smiled at me with his pearly white teeth. This told me that it was all a dream. The alternate universe my brain made up last night was probably a result from my severe exhaustion.

"We were supposed to meet up for breakfast this morning," he reminded me.

My jaw dropped and I immediately apologized, "oh my god, Tom, I'm so sorry. I forgot to set my alarm and—"

Tom chuckled, "don't sweat it. I figured you'd be tired, you had a long shift. Hope you don't mind that I let myself in, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Did I lock my door?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I have a key from when I watered your plants last month. Remember?"

"Right. Sorry— I had this really strange dream. You were in it. You had no teeth."

Tom laughed then said, "you can tell me all about it while we eat. I made pancakes and bacon."

"You did?" I was in awe. "You didn't have to."

Tom shrugged with a bashful smile. "I wanted to."

I walked into the living room and realized that I was wearing pajamas while Tom was in his regular clothes. I was too hungry, and too tired to care. I walked with him to the kitchen, where an entire meal was prepared for us to enjoy on our day off. Tom is one of my closest friends, and I trust him with my life.