Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Written after watching Compassion.
I could feel the tears forming in my eyes, threatening to spill over. No, I told myself, I will not let it show that this woman gets to me. I won't. When she was finished, I finally croaked, "Recess, Your Honor." The tears were still there, though I made no attempt to wipe them away. Prior experience told me that I could leave them for a while, only blinking to get rid of them. I walked outside and sat myself on a bench, her attorney sitting next to me. I told him my deal, the tears no longer threatening, no longer scaring me. After a few minutes, he agreed, knowing it was the best he would get. I stood and was about to reenter the courtroom when he called my name. I turned, "Its okay to have a heart, Jack."
I knew someone would figure it out, though I never expected it to be him. I just shook my head and walked away, not encountering the subject again until later, while I was leaving the office. Serena had it figured out too. "Compassion," she said. Damn women know everything like that, don't they? I rode home, letting my bike carry away my troubles, my mind. I got home and threw everything on a chair, collapsing on the couch. It was only then that the tears returned. Only then did the fear come back.
I don't know why I was so afraid of crying, it wasn't like I would be less of a man if I did. Hell, I cried when Claire died, I'm still here, still doing fine. It was just something about her, something about what she said. This time, I let the tears fall, knowing that holding them back would be futile. They rolled down my cheeks leaving salty trails behind. Normally, I didn't let myself get to this point. I remained firm and strong, not letting the cases get to me. I guess it was easier because I didn't have to go through every detail with every person involved, like Briscoe and Green did.
How the hell could Briscoe go through this every day? He was the same age as me and yet he plowed on through the difficult cases. I heard that he told someone he'd be doing his job from his wheelchair. I snort, picturing the case hardened detective in my mind. Typical Briscoe, typical Lennie.
I wiped the trails from my face with a rough hand, going into the bathroom to thoroughly wash my face of the tears. Drying my face on a towel, I looked up at the ceiling and leaned against the wall. To think, there were millions of children up there, in the heavens, looking out for each other as they look down at this small world below. God, she really was getting to me. "Time to go to bed, Jack," I said aloud to the bathroom. Time to find a new point of view, more like, I thought as I settled myself in.
I fell asleep that night quickly, dreaming of what I would be doing if I was in heaven, dreaming about what would have happened if I had never become a lawyer, instead dying a premature death at the hands of my father. To think, I almost died at his hand. Oh, God.
