Inspired and based off "Destination Heartbreak" by Loverboy. This will make more sense if you listen to the song while reading. I'm pretty sure I jacked up the Season 2 timeline in this one, since I keep refrencing the events of "Orpheus 3.3" which occured after "Besieged," and this takes place, I guess, shortly after the two "Besieged" episodes. Or during, whichever you prefer. So let's just pretend "Orpheus 3.3" happened before the two "Besieged" episodes.
Officer Tom Hanson paced in his living room, feeling surprisingly unwilling to do anything. Finally he flopped down in one of the armchairs next to the telephone, staring at it blankly.
Just another night all alone, he thought. It shouldn't really matter, but he couldn't help feeling as if he'd missed his chance with Judy. Which was ridiculous, of course.
The light from the TV flickered and glowed blue in the dim room. Tom watched it expressionlessly, his dark eyes flat and dull. If any of his friends were to see him now . . . He smiled thinly, knowing they wouldn't recognize him. Then again, even he wouldn't recognize himself. Hanson was suddenly reminded of Night of the Living Dead, and with that came memories of some pretty good times he'd had with Judy in this room whenever she would come over so they could watch a movie together. Now even that was gone.
In all honesty, he couldn't believe Judy had kissed—and almost done more than that—with Doug Penhall, their fellow Jump Street officer. There wasn't anything going on between him and Judy, so why did Tom feel as though she'd betrayed him?
Geez, talk about a one-sided love affair.
Hanson, for some reason, preferred that it had been a stranger over his best friend. But since it had to be Doug, he was feeling the way he had when Amy was murdered right in front of him: as if his life was ending.
Snap out of it, Tom told himself harshly.
But he couldn't, not really.
Seized by a sudden impulse, he picked up the phone and dialed Judy's number. It rang for several minutes, and there wasn't any sign of inhabitants. Tom had the same result when he tried Doug's: No one was there.
Great. Another secret the two of you can share. Hanson didn't care that he was being irrational. He couldn't help the way he felt for Judy. And right now, his hands were tied; there was nothing he could do.
Or maybe not. He could at least talk to Doug and Judy.
Nah. And yet . . .
Again, he was caught up in memories of Amy. He'd been too wary of hurting her, so he hadn't broken it off earlier. In retrospect, he should have. If he had, maybe she would still be alive . . .
Oh, quit it.
Anyway, why would Hoffs and Penhall be seeing each other? There had never been any indication that they had romantic feelings for each other, and besides, Doug was Tom's best friend. The two told each other everything, and Hanson would have found out anyway. But aside from his feelings for Judy, why was he so upset?
Do I prefer it could have been a stranger or something? Someone I don't work with, see every day? . . . Well, I suppose. He sighed. Why does this have to be so complicated?
No one had an answer. Not that he really expected one, given he was alone in the apartment. That would just have been creepy.
Finally he couldn't take just sitting around anymore. Tom shoved himself to his feet and started ambling down the hallway, almost staggering as if he were drunk. One of his hands raked through his tousled hair, but the gesture was so automatic that he didn't notice.
Somehow he stumbled into his bedroom. The comfortable-looking bed just beckoned, and, unable to resist, he collapsed facedown. His head turned, and the reflection in the mirror caught his eye.
For a moment, he could see himself, stretched out on the bed. Then the reflection shimmered, and all he could see was Judy . . . in someone else's arms.
Screw that, he thought. He blinked, and the image shattered. Finally, he was fed up with being depressed. But as angry as he was, sleep called louder, too strong to resist. So he answered it, his dreams troubled by images of Hoffs and Penhall. After a while, even those faded, leaving only blackness.
It could have been a stranger
But it had to be a friend
I see my life before me
Now it's comin' to an end