Title: What You Can Handle
Author: ShadowOfMoonlight
Disclaimer: I own neither a part of Summerland nor its cast. I never have and probably never will.
Summary: When Ava, Susanna, and Jay are ruled unfit guardians by the court of law, Bradin, Niki, and Derrick are forced to move in with their grandfather's brother and his wife in Ohio. Can they adapt to getting torn apart from the people they love yet again?
A/N: Okay. I, personally, think Ava, Susanna, and Jay are fine guardians that make mistakes occasionally, and with their current situations I don't think that any judge would rule in favor of taking them away. But to fulfill this plot (and I think it's a good one), I need to make up some things that they did. Hope you don't mind, and hope you like the story, and there'll be more trial flashbacks to convince you in later chapters!
A/N 2: The little bold numbers indicate that there's an Author's Note at the end of the chapter for you to read that refers back to that specific part.
A/N 3: It's rated "T" for language and themes.

Chapter 1 -- Falling

Seventeen-year-old Bradin Westerly woke with a start as his alarm clock started beeping. His blurry eyes cleared as he blinked, sitting up with a yawn, a hand running through his dirty-blonde hair. It's weekend… he thought groggily. He gazed at the clock, confusion etched on his features. "6 AM?" he mumbled. "I didn't even set the alarm!" He paused for half a second, then concluded that yes, it was Saturday, because yesterday was Friday. He shook his head. Early-morning logic was not his strong suit.

Then it hit him like a wave when he crashed, words seeping over each other, each as brutal as the next.

"You are being summoned by the Juvenile Court of California to respond to the petitions being brought against you. The prosecution states that the three children in question are receiving improper care are should be removed from their guardians and placed with more suitable caretakers," echoed a stiff, male, heartless voice.

"I like it here!" Niki's cry was pleading as she gave her statement.

"The goal of the Juvenile Court of California is to determine whether or not a child's home is unfit because of cruelty, neglect, or abuse, or if the child does not have a competent guardian. The primary goals of this court are to provide a safe environment for the child, keep families together, when possible, and if the child's family cannot be kept together, try to provide a stable and permanent alternative home for the child," the judge recited, looking expectantly between the two lawyers on either side of the courtroom.

"We call Ava Gregory to the stand." Their aunt stood, her face determined as she swore in, her hand quivering slightly as she took an oath to speak the truth.

" Is it true that a member of this household was taken into the police station for questioning?" A lawyer that wasn't theirs, it was, this time, sharp voice, stiff.

Ava's voice protesting as she fidgeted on the stand. "Yes, my business partner Susanna, but-"

Lawyer again. "Is it true that you yourself were left at the altar on your wedding day because your love wasn't complete?"

"Objection!" Their lawyer, this time. "Personal matters are not to be examined in the court of law!"

"Sustained. Let's try to keep this relevant, shall we, counselor?" Judge, raising an eyebrow.

The cold, heartless man nodded. "Is it true that one of the eldest of the children took drugs to boost athletic performance, the middle child outspoken and pushed to her limits and almost forced to attend high school too early, and the youngest brawled with another student over simple dignity?"

Ava's voice again, doing her best to protect them. "All boys experiment, and Niki is a very bright girl, and Derrick was defending me!"

"Oh, so you have a nine-year-old boy getting into fights on behalf of you?"

"No, I left a, um, suggestive photograph…on the top shelf of a closet. Derrick's friend found it when they were playing a game and made copies and tried to distribute them. Derrick stopped him before I even knew what was happening!"

"So you approve of his actions, brawling with another student, and you leave suggestive pictures lying around?"

"I don't approve of the fight, exactly, but I certainly understand his reasoning, and the picture belonged to my old roommate Johnny who no longer lives with us!"

"Is it true," the man's voice was deathly quiet, like a snake, "that your other roommate Jay Robertson physically abused the oldest child while in a drunken rage?" (1)

And the entire courtroom mumbled to itself as the woman on the stand burst into tears.

"I have no further questions for this witness. Prosecution rests."

Their lawyer rose. "Ava Gregory, do…"

Voices that originally continued, for hours on end, faded to nothing, skipping over Derrick's testimony, Niki's testimony, his own testimony, Jay's words, Susanna's nervous laugh as she spoke her part, other people on both sides' various statements… then…

The judge stared at the growing piles of papers in front of him. Four days, it had been, but it seemed like a lifetime, a nightmare that would never end. "According to the Juvenile Court Proceedings of California, no jury is present during the trial, and the judge rules on the final decision. You may, of course, appeal to a higher court, but until then my decision will stand." The entire courtroom practically held its breath as the judge paused. "I find Ava Gregory…unsuitable for parenthood. The children will be placed in the custody of Andrew Munin, great uncle to the questioned…"

"I demand an appeal!" Ava's lawyer's voice, shouting, but it was done, and they all knew it.

And then Derrick's voice, softly, as everything else faded, "Please…no."

Bradin breathed deeply, closing his green (2) eyes tightly as his clenched fists held tightly to the covers of his single bed as if it was his lifeline. He shook his head quickly, attempting to clear his clouded head as he prepared himself. The boy glanced around Johnny's old room. It was bare; posters were gone, clutter disposed of. His life, packed up neatly in compact little suitcases. It was pathetic, really, how little his life was.

The boy stood, donning a pale blue surf shirt and loose khaki pants. A comb was run rapidly and sloppily through his hair as the boy then slowed the movement, realizing that he didn't quite want to leave his room quite yet. Bradin slumped down on his bed, shoulders sagging as he stared at the comb held dangerously firm between his two hands, one on each end. The teeth of the utensil were so precise, so dignified, standing tall like they did, standing firm, only wavering when they would break if they didn't. Such a simple thing, a comb was.

"Bradin?" the voice was quiet, spoken as a bare whisper. The seventeen-year-old looked up and found a familiar face with haunted features, an Australian that Bradin knew well.

Bradin shot up, his body rigid as he glared defiantly into Jay's startlingly dark eyes. "What do you want, Jay?" he snarled, his voice pushed to its limit of viciousness.

The man didn't cringe like the teen had hoped he would. Jay raised a hand as if to touch the puffy black eye that was on Bradin's features by his own fit of alcoholic rage, but dropped his arm seconds later, never even getting near to the boy's frame. His eyes glanced from Bradin's head to his toe, a sweeping look.

What does he see? Bradin thought. Does he see a boy with a broken arm, a surf dream ruined, an ugly black eye, and bruises all over? Or does he see a kid that he thought he knew, someone that isn't worth a damn anymore? Or is it something else?

But Bradin never found out, for at that moment Jay simply said, his face emotionless, "They want you for breakfast." With that, the older man turned on his heel and left, shutting the door with only a slight yet significant thud.

Last day. Tomorrow we leave… for Ohio, the land of snow. To live with our grandfather's brother--our 'great uncle'. Hope we survive… God, I hope we survive… The mentally worn-out boy collapsed down on his bed yet again, hands covering his face as he breathed deeply. Face set and stony after minutes of preparation, Bradin stood and exited Johnny's old room, dreading the day that would be his last.

A/N's:

1) Yes, this is what I had to make up to make it work.

2) I actually researched this; the pictures that are displayed online aren't clear enough. Some said blue, some said hazel, but most said green, so I'm going with that.

Hey, guys. I really, really want you to review, even if it's just "Hey, that was good, keep it up" or something like that. I want to see how much interest the story has attracted. Please, please review. The more reviews I have the faster I'll update…gives me a reason to, just like the fact that people are waiting for me gives me inspiration to wake up every morning.

I really hoped you liked it!

There'll be more flashbacks to the trial-case from various cases; I know at the moment it seems rather difficult to believe that any judge would rule in favor of relatives from Ohio, but there'll be more reasons in later chapters from different character flashbacks (Niki, Derrick, perhaps others). So if you're about to disregard this entire story because of that, DON'T! Please.

Also, if for whatever reason you want to e-mail me, feel free:

kyricia aol com ((except put periods between kyricia and com))

If you want to give me a suggestion, feel free. I'm perfectly open to suggestions and plot twists; I have my basic plot and outline more or less done, but it's flexible…take this chapter, for example. Bradin was actually supposed to say his good-byes in this chapter also, but when I finished the Jay-Bradin scene I figured that it was long enough and I wanted to see how much interest I've generated.

Well, please review, and hope you enjoyed it!