AN.: Hi Everyone!
I need to confess that I have no idea how a trial works in reality, so I'm just going by what I've learnt from books I've read and my TV experiences. Also, I did lots of research for this story but the internet can only help me this far. :) Anyway, obviously, the story's whole point isn't to teach law students but to show Reid's feelings about his father and the whole situation, to help us understand him and his past more, and to elaborate their team dynamics. I hope you'll enjoy it, even if the entire trial is only made up to serve this purpose. :)
The morning of the first day of the guardian trial found the team gathered at Rossi's, trying to coax their youngest into moving from the room he'd locked himself into.
"Come on, Kid! We've got to go soon." – Morgan tried to reason with the distraught young man, shouting and pounding at the door, but he got no response. – "We mustn't be late!" – He added without much hope.
He then just sighed and stepped aside to let Gideon try. The man didn't knock and didn't plead. He simply produced a key ('Dave has spares' – he explained) and entered, closing the door after himself so that the others couldn't see or hear what was going on inside.
Whatever he said or did seemed to work though, because after about ten minutes both senior and youngest profiler appeared, the latter looking slightly haggard but determinedly ready to face the day.
"We'll be there for you the whole time, Spence."
"Thanks, JJ…"
"It's going to be all right, Kid."
"I think I'm gonna puke." – Was all the genius replied to that.
"No, you won't." – Rossi assured him, hoping he wouldn't be proven to be a liar. The kid did seem a bit green…
"If you do…" – Elle said, smiling slightly. – "… make sure to avoid the judge's robe."
Spencer shot her a dark glare that had the desired effect: she shrugged and walked ahead toward one of the waiting cars.
The genius refused to speak during the whole ride and didn't even open his mouth as they entered the court house and met up with Bull and Benjamin Colón in the corridor.
Both men looked exactly like you should in court: with their immaculate suits and perfect haircuts they appeared as professional as they came; clearly, Chunk Palmer had done everything to make them appear convincing and likeable to the jury. Whereas Spencer, in their last minute hustle, had even forgotten where he'd left the shoes he'd been instructed to wear and had haphazardly put on one of his vests instead of a suit jacket. Not to mention his untamed hair and pale complexion that completed the image of a refugee about to be aborted instead of a genius with numerous degrees and doctorates. He could particularly hear the entire TAC team's growl and imagined how frustrated the famous psychologist must feel upon seeing the 'lost case'. He knew the man hated to lose and would consider it a personal insult.
He wondered if Doctor Bull would even charge Rossi extra for having to put up with him…
"Are you ready?" – Bull asked not unkindly but a bit wary, probably trying to judge if they'd have problems with the boy freaking out in there. – "Is everything all right?"
Reid only nodded and stood closer to Gideon, who – almost imperceptibly – put a hand on the small of his back to nudge him forward.
"I guess it's time." – He whispered into Reid's ear. – "You'll be okay. The team will be in there and I'll be just outside the door; none of us is going anywhere."
The genius could feel his eyes filling with tears but he refused to let them fall. The last thing he needed was to make a fool of himself in front of the people loitering the corridor. It was bad enough if he'd do it in front of the jury… Twelve people watching his every move. Each twitch of hand or blink of eye. They'd decide his fate and determine his future. Strangers with power over him like nobody ever before.
It sucked. And yet, there was nothing to do about it now, so he took a deep breath and entered the court room where the trial was about to start.
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His father's lawyer, a fierce woman wearing a gray costume with a yellow dotted blouse that made Spencer's eyes immediately hurt and his head feel dizzy, had been speaking about him for over twenty minutes now and didn't seem to be planning to stop anytime soon; detailing every personal trait that could even remotely be considered 'strange' or 'abnormal', like his habit to not shake hands with people he met or how he liked to sit crossed-legged on an office chair and swirl around while he thought. The genius had honestly no idea how his father even knew about these things, let alone why this would interest anyone outside the team – the people who had to put up with him on a daily basis and yet they didn't seem to mind him as much as apparently everyone should.
According to this woman, Reid was an abomination that shouldn't be allowed to roam the streets freely. The genius was feeling increasingly agitated and angry. Mostly angry.
He tried not too fidget too much (he wasn't eager to prove the woman right about him not being able to concentrate and also, he was afraid of Bull who had promised to throw a pebble at him every time he misbehaved) but somewhere in the middle of the lawyer's monologue he couldn't help himself and turned around to see the others' reactions.
Morgan looked about ready to get up and throttle the woman with his bare hands, making Reid wish he had thought to prepare with some pebbles of his own to warn his friend. Luckily, Hotch seemed to be at least somewhat in control, gripping Derek's shoulder tightly but also glaring murderously at the back of the attorney's head. Reid wondered if she could feel the burning on her neck like he did every time the unit chief presented him with the same stare. If so, she certainly didn't give any indication and didn't let it deter her.
Twenty-five minutes, and she wasn't tiring. Right now she was detailing an incident Reid had already forgotten about how he'd ended up escaping from the kindergarten at the age of three because the teacher had told him he needed to hold Katie Morrison's hand while walking along the corridor. He had walked all the way home completely alone and stated with all the determination of his three years that he wouldn't go back. Ever. That had also turned out to be true because just next week, he'd started homeschooling with his mother so that, at four, he'd been able to enter real school without any rules for handholding.
So, what was the great deal about it!?
Rossi was obviously barely keeping his frustration at bay himself, while the girls: Garcia, JJ and Elle shook their heads and were whispering furiously among themselves, no doubt forming secret plans to make the woman suffer a long, painful death. The team was entirely on his side and that made him feel a bit better about the whole ordeal: if the others were all indignant on his behalf, at least he didn't necessarily have to be.
The only one who seemed fully at ease with the scenario was Doctor Jason Bull who was sitting in the row right behind him and Colón, and who, upon seeing the young profiler turn around, patted his pocket warningly. For fear the man that was notorious for his unique ways and for his blunt disregard of courtroom protocol would make good of his threat and actually start throwing around stones, Spencer whipped back and studied the judge instead.
The judge was a burly, middle aged man who obviously liked to indulge in good food. His round face was pale, probably from spending most of his time inside this very building instead of outside, and his small, dark button-eyes looked kind and wise. He wasn't nearly as frightening as Spencer had originally pictured him to be and definitely not as evil as the judge in his most recent nightmares had been.
He also seemed bored.
Of course, he wasn't the only one: the genius, obviously nearly as adept at assessing people as the famous Doctor Bull, could see that three of the jurors were trying to hide their continuous yawning, while two others didn't even try to be discreet about it anymore. One elderly woman had nearly finished knitting a scarf (she'd started at the beginning of the attorney's speech…) and a young man in his early twenties was snoring softly, having fallen asleep about a quarter of an hour ago. He'd probably partied over the weekend and didn't like Mondays very much, Spencer assumed. The only juror who seemed entirely too interested in the whole story was a woman about his mother's age who was studying him over her round glasses as if trying to see into his very soul. It was disconcerting to say the least.
Thirty-two minutes in (just after an anecdote about Spencer's one and only disastrous attempt at soccer at the age of eight that left his cheeks burning in shame and Colón scribbling furiously into his notepad) the judge had had enough.
"Ms. Blight: is this going somewhere?" – He asked, tone clearly indicating she better arrive right then wherever she was going with it.
"Of course, Your Honor. I'm making a point presenting the facts to the jury about this unfortunate young man's incapa-"
"The jury is asleep, Ms. Blight. So will I be within two minutes if you don't make your point NOW." – As if proving the judge's statement right, one of the jurors chose this very moment to drop her handbag. As she bent down to retrieve it, she hit her head against the chair in front of her and winced loudly, waking the young man who'd been slumbering, causing him to give a frightened snore before blinking around confusedly. The judge sighed. – "Recess! We'll meet here again in half an hour. I need a coffee. Or three." – Without further ado, he walked out, closely followed by the jurors quickly scattering away, leaving a crestfallen attorney still standing in front of the podium, looking as if her favorite puppy had just been kicked.
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"Wonderful!" – Bull exclaimed as soon as the group gathered, safely away from the plaintiff's earshot.
Elle gave him a surprised stare that suggested she thought the man had lost his mind.
"Wonderful? How is this wonderful?" – She asked. – "That woman said horrible things! That BITCH!"
Morgan chuckled at the expression but nodded in agreement.
The psychiatrist just waved his hand dismissively.
"It doesn't matter what she said." – He explained, ignoring Garcia's gasp. – "What matters is how she said it."
"How so?" – JJ inquired, furrowing her brow. Clearly, she was as lost as her teammates.
Bull grinned.
"Because the jury hates her." – He said simply.
Rossi shook his head in exasperation.
"The jury is asleep, Doctor Bull, I don't know if they can hate anyone at that point."
But the psychiatrist just continued smiling knowingly and motioned for his colleague, Benny Colón to join the conversation. The small man stepped next to Spencer and patted his back. The boy tried not to flinch at the unexpected touch.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine…" – He didn't sound too convincing. And the others noticed it, of course.
"I'm up next. We'll get back to them."
Reid didn't know what to react to that, so he just nodded. He didn't want to get back to anyone. He wanted to go home and forget this whole day ever happened. He wished the others would forget, too.
Gideon, who had been filled in on the happenings by now, said:
"Spencer, come on, walk with me."
The two, followed by the rest of the group's curious glances, made their way toward the grand stairs and then to the exit to catch some fresh air.
"I'm fine." – The genius repeated without question as soon as they were outside. He squinted slightly at the brightness after having spent so much time in the semi-darkness of the age-old building. No wonder the judge was so pale.
"No, you're not. But you will be."
Spencer had to fight hard to keep back the tears that suddenly threatened to fall. He didn't understand: he had been all right up until now…
"It's just…" – He took a deep breath and tried again. – "I don't care what that dragon says. She's nothing. Nobody." – Gideon, sensing that the boy wasn't done yet, silently waited for him to continue. In the end, he did. – "It's my father…"
"Ah!"
"Not that he matters too much, obviously…"
"But he still is your father."
"Yeah… And he's just sitting there… With that smug expression on his face. It's SICKENING!"
The shout echoed between the poles of the huge building and two women drinking take away lattes and wearing elegant costumes turned towards them with identical reproachful expressions. They were ignored.
"It's understandable that it angers you."
"But why though? I've learnt and accepted a long time ago that he's a jerk. The way he left us… I shouldn't be surprised."
"Well… Now he's taken it to a whole new level, Kiddo. I still don't understand what he wants and that bothers me."
"It only bothers you? Good for you. It makes me livid." – Now that he started, he couldn't seem to stop the tirade of lament; luckily, Gideon didn't take offense; he obviously knew Spencer needed to rant. – "I mean, come on: he left us! My mom and me! He never looked back, never asked about us. Didn't even send any money. I had to do everything alone because mom is… you know what she's like! She couldn't even leave the house! We were in trouble and I had to make ends meet and do well at school and take the abuse from my schoolmates and yes, I might be a bit geeky sometimes but I've managed just fine, haven't I and then he just waltzes back into my life now and thinks he can tell me I'm a retard!? Well, I think HE is!"
Finally, when he really needed to breathe, he had to stop, giving his mentor the opportunity to soothe him.
"Of course you've managed just fine. I'm so proud of you. You'll get out of this stronger than ever before and he will have to face all the mistakes he's made."
"You really think so?"
"I KNOW that. So, Kiddo: ready to face round two?"
"If I have to…"
Gideon smiled, draping an arm around the boy's shoulders. Funnily, this didn't bother Spencer at all.
"Come on, then. Don't worry: you're not alone in there."
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"During the trial, we're going to prove to all of you that this extraordinary young man isn't disabled and doesn't need anyone helping him make his decisions. No, he is merely the victim of a man's greed for power and control. A man who left said young man as a child alone with a sick mother to fend for themselves and now he wants to show he's still got authority over his son's life just because he wants it. If someone is sick here, then it's definitely not my client."
Reid swiftly turned, glaring at Bull who listened to Benjamin Colón's speech attentively. The genius mouthed 'I thought I told you to leave my mother out of this!' at the psychiatrists but the man only shook his head and patted his pocket again with one hand while circling his index finger with the other in the air, giving the general sign that Spencer should turn back around and face the judge if he knew what was good for him. Be a good little defendant and let the 'big boys' handle things for him.
Spencer sighed in defeat. His lawyer was supposed to make sure he didn't lose the say in his own life. It seemed, in order to get there, he needed to lose the ability to make his own decisions during the trial altogether…
