October 1990

The chapel was so quiet and empty without Tom. Doug missed him, and everyone could tell that we were not ourselves. Even the apartment was quiet, luckily I had Swayze to keep me company. I was having feelings of loneliness, sadness, and longing for Tom... but I know it's going to be a very long time before I can see him again.

A few months later, we were introduced to Officer Dean Garrett, a new recruit from the academy. He had short brown hair, and wasn't very tall. Word got around that he was teased a lot by the cops at the Metro Police Department, and he was always getting pranked in cruel ways. Whenever I talked to him, he was quiet and seemed to know his place. I didn't dislike him, but he has never given me a reason to like him either. I just didn't care for him.

One day, Fuller pulled me into his office. I closed the door and he told me to take a seat.

He sat in his chair with his elbows on his desk and he said, "I've been told that you've been acting rather.... cold... toward Garrett."

"I have?" I asked, sitting cross-legged in the chair.

"Look, I know that he's not Hanson, but you need to be nicer. I want you to get along with Garrett."

"I've been hospitable to him."

"You've been hostile. Rumor has it that you've made him cry," Fuller said then paused before continuing, "Gregg, I am assigning Garrett to your next case. I want him to get proper training so he knows what he's doing when he is on his own."

My eyes widened and I scoffed, "you want me to babysit the newbie? Come on, Jenko made me babysit Hanson when he first started. I've done my time. Make... Penhall or Ioki do it."

"I'm asking you because Garrett needs a strong partner to create the perfect dynamic."

"The other day he asked me what over and out meant on the radio," I stated. I was mean to him, and I meant it.

Fuller sighed, "there's no such thing—"

"There's no such thing as a stupid question," I finished for him. "Just a stupid officer who asks a..." my voice trailed off when I noticed Fuller glaring at me.

"Look, I know how hard it's been on you since Hanson left. I think you and Garrett will make a great team. Give him a chance."

"I did give him a chance. Do you remember the mannequin shooting?" I asked.

It was one of the first assignments I had with Officer Garrett. Our mission led us to a high-end fashion store in the middle of the city. It was in the middle of the night, and we were armed in the store because we had reason to believe that the suspect we were investigating wanted to rob the place, and they were armed.

Garrett and I were hiding behind a wall while the rest of the team was outside the building, waiting for our signal. I had whispered to remind him that we could not shoot the kid unless he shot at us first. He reassured me that he knew, but as soon as he stepped away from that wall, he screamed, shut his eyes, and pumped bullets into a defenseless mannequin standing in the middle of the room. I glared at him until he stopped, and the plastic of the mannequin had broken from the little bullet explosions and it fell to the ground. He shot at it until his gun clicked because he ran out of bullets.

I stood behind him and put my gun down in defeat. At least he hit his target. I quipped, "I think you got him."

We ended up not catching the kid that night, because he got scared off from Garrett's mindless shooting. Garrett ended up having to go to gun training again, and I was stuck with a ton of paperwork. If he didn't use every bullet in the world on an inanimate object, I probably would have shot myself.

"Just give him another chance. He passed his gun training and psych evaluation. You gave Hanson a chance, and look how great of a team you two made," Fuller said, pulling me out of my flashback.

"Exactly. Why ruin a good thing?" I shrugged.

"Because it's already been ruined when he left."

"Then I'll be a lone wolf," I said.

"Not in this precinct, Gregg. You will be going to Bennett High for a drug ring. Should be easy enough for you. Give him a chance, you might be surprised."

"I'll be surprised if he actually completes a case."

"Gregg," Fuller snapped at me.

"Look, it's not my fault the kid has no lying bone in his body. He cracks at the first hit," I stated.

"Were you this critical of Hanson when he first started?" Fuller asked.

I nodded and crossed my arms as I leaned back in the chair. "Pretty much, yeah. Maybe you should ask the Academy to stop sending over losers."

"Gregg," he snapped at me again.

"What?"

"Try to think of Garrett's actions as something that Tom did."

"You want me to treat Garrett like I treated Tom?"

"In your professional relationship, yeah. You'll see how hard you've been treating Garrett."

I chuckled emptily, "all right, fine. I'll try."

"Atta-girl," Fuller said.

"But if he pushes my buttons, there is no telling what I will do."

Fuller was annoyed but he excused me from his office and I headed to Dean Garrett's desk. He adopted Tom's old desk, which fueled my anger toward him even more. Even though I know it's not his fault, and I'm sure he is a great guy.

I came up next to him and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. I said, "come with me."

"Where?" Dean asked, turning around to me. He held a pen in his hand.

"Where? I'm going to smack you in the head with a hammer. Come on, let's go."

Doug whistled lowly from his desk.

"What?" Dean asked.

Doug said to him, "go. She's not kidding."

Dean and I drove to Bennett High School for the case. I gave him his folder and throughly explained to him everything that he needed to remember for the case.

I informed him how to get his class schedule and we compared them. Fuller usually gives partners a class or two in common, and we had Chemistry.

"Chemistry is the one with the shapes and shit, right?" Dean asked with a chuckle. I stared at him blankly and he said, "I'm just joking."

"We don't joke around when we are in the field," I snapped.

"I'm sorry. Uh... You have beautiful eyes."

I learned that Doug has been trying to train Garrett to be on my good side by complimenting me. I figured it out, so it doesn't work.

"Shut up."

He immediately looked down and said, "yes, ma'am."

"Look, messing around can get you hurt, or even killed. You don't know what you're dealing with. Do you think you know what it means to be an undercover cop? Trust me, you don't know the meaning of the word. I've had to deal with things you can't even imagine."

His voice was small. "What kind of things?"

"I'm not going to tell you," I said childishly. I calmed down enough to keep my voice level and calm, but I didn't want someone to accidentally hear.

"The way you said it, it sounded like you were going to say something cool."

"Yeah, well, you don't get to hear it."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be," I said flatly.

Dean said, "you're legendary at Jump Street, you know. Weren't you shot?"

"Yes."

"Did you feel the bullet or did you just feel pain?"

"I feel pain now because you won't stop talking." I rolled my eyes right when the bell rang and students were beginning to head to class. I told Dean to be on the look out for anything suspicious, and that we would meet at lunch before our chemistry class.

I kept my eyes peeled for anything that could help us. But I came up with nothing. Not a single lead, or a single clue. I met with Dean in an empty class room during lunch and he showed me a map of the school. I sat down at the table while he stood next to me and pointed.

"I heard some guys talking in my history class about a drug cartel who call themselves the Black Snakes. The names I got were Jamie, Barron, Michael, and Allan."

"Did you get any last names?" I asked.

"No," he shook his head.

"Damn," I said but I was still impressed with what he was able to find in such a short amount of time. I asked, "what else did you get?"

"I-I think that Jamie is their leader."

"Jamie is a drug lord?" I asked. I could not think of anyone I knew named Jamie. "And a student?"

"Yes to a drug lord, no to being a student. I can't figure out why he's so popular around here."

"Look into the faculty," I told him, "teachers, janitors, everything. Jamie could be a cover name."

"Like a stage name?" Garrett asked.

I paused but said, "yeah, I guess."

He pointed to his map and said, "I think they're going to be meeting here after school for a deal. It's at the end of the week."

"Wow, Dean, I'm impressed," I said with a small nod. I followed the point of his finger and saw that he was pointing at the schools basement.

"Thank you."

"Don't get used to it," I said flatly. I still think he seems like a man who would freeze soup just so he can lick it.

"Okay," he said sheepishly.

"These guys are smelling like bad news," I said as I grabbed my backpack so we could get to the cafeteria before we got into trouble, "I don't want you to be alone with them. All right?"

He nodded, "yes, ma'am."

"Good. Let's go, and don't call me ma'am," I said as we went to the cafeteria to enjoy our lunch.

During chemistry class, Dean and I were assigned to be partners. We kept their heads low, and listened around.

The next day, Dean pulled me aside during lunch and said that he heard around school that some of Jamie's drugs had gone missing. Hard drugs. I noticed that he started getting antsy, and I quickly realized that he was freaking out.

"Take a breath, it's okay," I said softly. I've had to calm down officers before, so this was nothing new to me.

"What if they think it's me?" He asked, "I was the one asking around about it yesterday."

"You what?" I asked in a low voice.

"I tried to be nonchalant but it's hard when it comes to stuff like this."

I rubbed my temples and said, "that's why cases like this can take weeks to solve."

"I just thought it would be quicker if—"

"No, Dean, no," I stopped him. "Quicker is not better. You need to have patience, or you're going to get us both kicked off the case."

"You're right," he said.

"Take a breath," I told him, "get something to eat. I'll see you in chemistry."

I had to walk away from him. How could he be so reckless? I crossed my arms over my red shirt in thought as I walked off. I glanced down at my dark brown flared corduroy pants being held up by a black belt and my white shoes that I was trying not to get dirty. I closed my eyes and took a breath. I don't remember training being this difficult.

I went off to follow my own leads during lunch, and was told by a burnout that Jamie is the name of one of the janitors at the school. He usually just sells the students weed, but occasionally harder drugs and alcohol.

During class, Dean received a letter from the office instructing him to go to the basement. He frowned and handed me the note and asked, "what does this mean?"

I remembered how there was supposed to be a deal going down in the basement at the end of the week. I felt a twist in my gut that told me that it was a bad idea to go down there. I whispered back, "I don't think you should go."

"I have to," he said and slipped out of his chair.

"Dean!" I yell-whispered, but he was out the door already.

Everyone in the classroom was quietly reading their text book, and I managed to sneak past the teacher and hid behind some lockers as I watched Dean open the door to the basement.

I have never, ever met someone I believe in as little as Dean.

I had a terrible feeling, so without thinking I ran to Dean and pushed him out of the way to take his spot. Before I could say anything to him, I felt myself get pushed down the stairs of the concrete basement and the door slammed closed, leaving me in the darkness. I grunted as I balled myself up and somersaulted down the stairs painfully, and then everything went black.

I must have passed out because before I knew it, I was strapped to a chair with a dim light over my head. My head was aching, and my eyes burned. Every muscle and joint in my body was throbbing with pain, and I could see bruises littering my bare arms.

It took me a moment to realize that I was tied up in the basement of the school. It smelled like mold and musty mildew. I wiggled my arms and tried to kick my legs free, but I was trapped under tight belts and other contraptions that kept me stuck.

The group of drug dealers had left the basement to discuss matters without my presence, which gave me hope that they would let me go. Why do things like this always happen to me? What am I doing wrong?

I wiggled and struggled in the chair until I heard the door open from above. For fear that it was one of them, I stopped struggling and kept my mouth shut. My only advantage was to not show them any fear, and to make them believe that my team was coming to save me. How long was I out for? Do they know I'm missing? I was praying that they would come save me.

I made eye contact with the man who walked down the steps to the basement, and a wave of relief washed over me. It was Dean!

"Garrett! Thank god. Please, get me out of here," I begged.

"Gregg, I am so sorry. This is all my fault," he said as he came up to me and started to take the belts off frantically.

"Just get me out of here," I said. Suddenly, the door opened again and Dean and I froze. We heard the voices of the drug dealers from above, and Dean started putting the belts back on.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I said in a harsh whisper.

"I can't take these off by the time they get down here," Dean said and ran behind me to another door so he could escape.

"Come back and get me out!" I yelled over my shoulder, "if I die I'm gonna kill you!"

"I'll be right back," Dean whispered to me and ran off.

"That's a direct order, motherfucker, get over here!" I yelled to him, but he was already gone. I heard the basement door slam shut, and the drug dealers slowly made their way down the stairs.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

One of them cocked their head and at me and asked, "who are you talking to?"

I thought quick on my feet. "You. Get me out of here."

The other chuckled, "no can do, honey. See, we know that you have the drugs that were stolen from us. So, I just have one question for you."

"Choke on it," I hissed.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," I said honestly. I only recognized a couple of the guys in the group, one was one of the janitors and another was a student.

One of them took out a pistol and showed me that there was nothing in the chamber. My heart was pounding out of my chest when he put one bullet in and spun the chamber and slapped it closed before pointing the gun at me. I gulped, staring down the barrel of a gun. Last time I was in a situation like this, Tom saved my life. Now, he wasn't here to save me.

The gun clicked, and I jumped at the blood curdling sound. He looked down at me with a sickening grin, and took the safety off for another shot. He asked, "I'm going to ask again. Where are the drugs?"

I was trying not to shake, and I could feel sweat start to perspire at my hairline and my nose from fear. He pressed the cold gun to my forehead and shouted, "answer!"

"I-I don't know!" I replied shakily, closing my eyes in terror. If I was going to die, I didn't want to watch.

The gun clicked again, and I gasped. Terror as black as night swept through me. I still tried to struggle under my restraints, and I noticed the guy look back at his friends and nod. I had an obvious sense of foreboding. They surrounded me and I looked around frantically, "oh my god. What's happening?"

One of them took out a needle with a syringe and started to tap it.

I struggled, desperate to break out of the chair. The student pinned my arm to keep it from wiggling and I was begging them, "please... I don't want it. I don't want it. I'm begging you, please don't do this to me! Please!"

"Don't make me the bad guy here. You stole my products, you must want it. Therefore, you get a free sample," he snapped his fingers and I felt the thick needle embed itself into my skin.

"No, no, no," I whined, still trying to struggle free.

"Oh, what a rush," he cackled.

I somehow found myself with a sore back and my head hanging down. My dark hair had fallen in front of my face. I looked back up and my vision was hazy, until I tried to move and realized that none of it was a dream. I was still strapped down to a chair.

I blinked a few times under the harsh lights and the men approached me from the shadows. I was clinging to the hope that it was all just a dream. It hurt to breathe. I wasn't sure how much more torture I could handle. They weren't giving me a break.

"Please," I begged groggily as I tried to wake up, "I have a family. I have people who are expecting me to come home tonight."

The janitor said, "that is the funny thing about life. No one ever makes it out alive."

My mouth ran dry at his sentence. I managed to calm down and asked, "what are you going to do with me?"

He chuckled, "we are trying to figure that out. No one in the school has been to this basement for years so we really have all the time in the world, but I'm not that patient. We could throw you in the Metropolitan Lake, or feed you poisoned food. We would bury you alive—"

"But she might crawl her way out," one of his comrades pointed out. 

"Good point," the janitor said, "I wouldn't want you to be able to kill me. I'd imagine that you'd be vengeful. This is why we can't decide whether you should live for die."

"I think death is the only acceptable option," one of the guys said.

The janitor nodded. "I think so too. I won't deny, I am going to miss you when you're gone, Michelle. We had so much fun down here."

I looked down at my lap and felt tears drip off my nose and onto my dark jeans. I closed my eyes and prayed for the last time.

"Oh, please don't hang your head and cry. You'll probably go up to heaven," he snapped, which did not make me feel any better about the situation. He spun the chamber with the single bullet one more time and pressed the gun to the side of my head and said sinisterly, "let's play a game."

"Oh my fucking god," escaped my lips as I gasped.

"Does she have any tattoos?" One asked.

"Why would that matter?" The janitor asked with the gun still pressed to my temple.

"So she can't be identified."

Were they planning on cutting off my tattoos?! If I had any?

"I don't have any tattoos," I said truthfully.

"Any last words?" The janitor asked, and clicked the gun without giving me a chance.

I jumped and my lips quivered. I tried to wiggle out of my restraints again for the last time but it was no use. I whimpered as I thought about my life, and I only wanted Tom.

The gun clicked, but I had become desensitized to the blood curdling sound. I sniffed. I was gonna go out the honorable way as any police officer would be proud to go out in, in the field.

"Hey, I think she's that officer who went with that one DEA guy," one of the guys pointed out.

"Hanson?!" The one with the gun asked.

"Yeah, that's right."

"I don't know who that is," I lied.

"He was an officer with your unit. We already tracked your badge number. Don't worry your pretty little head, Officer."

Shit.

"He put away my boys. We ain't gonna let him get away with that. Hey, let's give him a ring so he can feel what we suffered," the other guy said and grabbed a hold of the landline that was in the basement. By some miracle, it was working.

They dialed his number and waited for an answer. Suddenly, he said, "Officer Hanson. How'd you like to hear your sweethearts last words?"

He laughed cynically before he shoved the phone to my ear, but I was shaking so bad I thought it was going to fall. I had my shoulder squished to my ear, and I gasped out, "Tom?"

"Mick?"  Tom's voice asked on the other end.

"Yeah, it's—it's me."

"What's going on?" He sounded rightfully worried.

I gulped as my tears fell from my eyes. I stared at the chamber and they clicked the gun again. I shuddered and closed my eyes. "I'm currently in the basement of Bennett High School. There is... I don't think I'm going to make it out of this one."

"Mickey, you're scaring me. What's happening?"

I didn't want to freak him out, but I was terrified. I had a bit of comfort that I was talking to him in my last few moments, but I wish this wasn't our last memory together.

"Tom... he loaded the gun."

"Is he going to hurt you?" Tom asked.

I took a shaky breath. "I think so."

"Just hang on—hold on, don't hang up."

He cocked the gun again, and it clicked. Each time it clicks, I'm closer to the chamber with the bullet.

"I-I miss you," I said softly through my gasps. My throat was so tight, it hurt to say anything at all. My body was trembling with fear. My teary eyes squeezed shut with every click of the chamber.

"You are strong. You are so strong, Mick. You are the strongest person I know," Tom spoke quickly, almost as if he was afraid I wouldn't be able to hear the end of his sentence.

I tried to be strong but my voice broke, "if anything happens, I love you... bye."

Suddenly, the door behind me opened, and the sweet words of, "police!" filled the air. I looked up at the group of drug dealers which made the phone drop to the floor with a bang. The dealers all put their hands up. The janitor smirked down at me before pointing the gun to the cops. He pulled the trigger, and the gun fired. I think the bullet missed and managed to hit a tree outside the door and as soon as I heard more gunshots, I dropped my head down to my knees to avoid getting hit. He was shot down by the cops behind me.

Someone ran around to me and started to take off the belts that strapped me to the chair. It was Dean. He said, "I promised I would be back."

There were many choice words I wanted to give him at that moment. He was gone for hours, leaving me in that room to be tortured. I was pissed, upset, terrified, and exhausted. As soon as I was released from the bonds, I tried to stand up but my knees buckled from under me and I collapsed to the ground. I blacked out, and I woke up in the hospital.

I saw IV's in my arms, and I was wearing an unattractive hospital gown. Fuller was in the room when I woke up. He told me what had happened, and how I was injected with some drug I couldn't remember the name of. I was going to have to stay at the hospital for a detox just in case. He finished by saying that Doug and Dean were in the waiting room, waiting for me to wake up.

I thought it was really sweet that Doug was out there, and I really wanted to see him but I asked to speak with Dean alone first. Fuller left and Dean soon took his place.

Dean silently stood at the edge of my bed as I thought very carefully about what I wanted to say. But Dean beat me to it and he started rambling his apology.

"I am so sorry, I am so sorry for leaving you there. I had no idea that they were going to do that, and I never would have stopped if I knew that they were going to hurt you. I feel horrible, I didn't know—"

"Dean?" I stopped him. My foggy brain couldn't even keep up with how fast he was talking.

"Yeah?" His eyes were big and hopeful.

"Shut up."

His voice dropped and he looked down. "Sorry."

I finally huffed and glared at him. I said, "that was a very stupid thing you did."

"I know. I'm so sorry," he said.

"You not only put your own life in danger, but you put mine as well. They..." I took a shaky breath, remembering what had happened. I really didn't want to go back to it. I finished scolding him by saying, "I can't believe you were so careless."

"Mickey, I'm so sorry. If it weren't for me, this wouldn't have happened to you. If you hadn't had stepped in, it would be me on this bed and who knows if I would have survived. You saved my life."

I tried to take Fuller's advice, and imagined how I would act if Tom had been doing this instead of Dean. Tom would never have done something so stupid though. But if he did... Would I have yelled at him like I yelled at Dean? Probably. Would I have forgiven him? Absolutely, we all make mistakes.

It hit me. We all make mistakes. Dean is a new, fresh-faced undercover cop. I've been doing this job for five years, and he's been doing it for three weeks. He didn't know any better. He was doing what he thought, and was trained, to be right. And I was so stuck in the past, I had to come to terms that no one will live up to Tom, nor will anyone replace him.

I took a breath. "Everyone makes mistakes, Garrett. Just... you have a lot of work to do if you want to pull another stunt like that again. I don't think I'd be able to save your ass a second time."

Dean smiled a little and he nodded. "You bet, Mickey."

I closed my eyes to get comfortable in my hospital bed and said, "great. Oh, can you or Fuller call Tom Hanson to let him know that I'm okay? He must be worried sick."

"Of course," he said.

"Thank you. Now, let me rest."

"Yes, ma'am—Mickey," he said and left the room. After today, he will probably need a week off to feel his feelings.

Times like this remind me how much I miss Tom. When Tom left, I lost my dance partner, and my cooking partner. I lost the person who made me feel loved, and who laughed at all my dumb jokes. I also lost my travel companion, my biggest supporter, and I lost the person who always made life an adventure. I lost my partner in crime. I lost the one person I can rely on for anything at any time. I miss my person.

I let out a soft sigh, and tried to drown out the sound of the beeping monitor by visualizing a scenario with Tom. I imagined him knocking on my front door, saying that he forgot his keys, and apologized for being gone for so long. There was a twinge in my chest when I had to remind myself that that would never happen. I just wanted him back.

I hope you this liked this one! Next chapter is about Tom in Virginia! Don't forget to vote and comment! 😁