A/N: So, I saw this Tumblr post about someone being forced to make a AU where all the characters are replaced with U.S Presidents and other historical figures. I got a good chuckle before wondering if a good story could be done with it, so this is how this wonderful fic came alive. So, enjoy the Presidential Dead!
The Presidential Dead
Episode 1: A New Day Chapter 1
The awkward silence in the air was tiring for the man, but it didn't help he was at a courthouse for most of the day. The courthouse was always a second home for him. A way that he could get away from the stresses of his broken marriage and to do something he actually enjoyed. Of course, he was usually the one defending criminals, not being defended himself. No, there was no case Abraham Lincoln would turn down, no matter how guilty they were. His father had taught him to always have the benefit of doubt for everyone, and he was damn sure to follow his late father's teachings. So how did his second home become a death sentence for him? How did the roles become reversed and he was no longer a lawyer, but a criminal in a cop car?
It was a long story that sickened Abe to think about it. What had even came over him? He remembered coming home from an unusually long day at work to see his wife in bed with another man. He supposed it was inevitable really. His two sons had both died in a span of a few years, and he focused on his work as a release. If he hadn't, he was sure his depression would come back with no relief. But, he would've never had an affair behind Mary's back, so why did she do it to him? The moments after walking in were a blur. He could remember nothing, but the description of the brutal act that his wife told in court was enough to make him ill.
When he came to he could hear his wife screaming bloody murder. He was standing in his bedroom with his son's baseball bat, which at this point was slathered in blood and brains. Blood was all over his suit and his hands, which made him wonder if he had an accident of some sort, as he was prone to them. However, once he looked down he too screamed.
On the floor was the man who was with his wife. His face was mangled and almost unrecognizable, but the police could still identify him as Jefferson Davis. Abe had worked with him, but he knew Davis was getting ready to run for the senate. He dropped the bat in horror just as his son, Tad, ran in. The poor boy was sleeping in bed as his father bashed his coworker's face in.
"What's going on?" He asked before seeing the corpse and Abe looming over it. Abe could see the boy slowly back up in fear before scrambling for a phone. His own son was afraid of him, which was more than Abraham could bear. All his family had disowned him after that moment, but who could blame them? Who would want to be associated with a murderer?
The trial had lasted for months, but the jury had no problem making there decision. Guilty. As he looked around the room he could see how disappointed his coworkers and the jury were in him. He spent years building up respect for himself and it was destroyed just like that. His son would go to school dealing with the fact that his father murdered a man. His oldest boy, Robert, who was far away in Washington, would be watching the trial with shame surrounding him. God, Abe prayed that his actions wouldn't cause Robert to lose his dream job down at D.C. That boy worked too hard to have the sins of his father ruin it.
Abraham had a tendency to think deeply on the road. The passing scenery as they left the urban city of Boston to the upper class town of Hyannis Port was peaceful to him. It would probably be the last time he could see how beautiful nature was because he would be put into solitary confinement. Why he was going to prison all the way up in Hyannis Port was a mystery to him, but it apparently had to do with the high security up there. Not like he was going to escape.
Abe ignored what the cop was saying for the most part. He got snippets out every once in a while, but they were nothing interesting. Just that they were going into "rich people area," and that "The Kennedy's live here." Abe could've honestly cared less about that family and wondered why they were so beloved.
They were a rich family that was for sure. Joseph P. Kennedy Sr. made sure his stocks were in all the right places, but it probably didn't help that his father in law was the mayor. Abe could remember how Mary would sneer at the young family when they were on TV. He knew she was jealous of them because of how much they were struggling with financial problems, but she had a pure hatred of them. He couldn't understand how you could hate even the children, but she did.
The oldest child of that family was Joe Jr. He was the stereotypical good looking teenaged son who could do no wrong. A boy groomed for success compared to his younger brother John. John, who demanded to be called Jack in interviews, was the one who Abraham enjoyed the most. Every time that boy was given a microphone it ended in reporters laughing to the point of tears. He was charismatic, funny, and a handsome little eight year old. Abe was sure that boy would go onto make a very successful reporter or professor when he grew up. The rest of the children were too young for Abraham to have an opinion about.
Maybe, if he wasn't focusing on the Kennedy's he would've been able to see the legions of cop cars making their way down the opposite lane. Maybe he would've seen the shambling figure in the middle of the road as the cop was paying no attention himself. Maybe they wouldn't be flying off the road into wooded area. Maybe Abraham wouldn't be passed out in the back of the wrecked car with a concussion and laceration on his leg. Maybe...