A/N: I own nothing except the laptop I wrote this story on.

It was a grey and overcast day. An unnatural chill seemed to have settled over the Commonwealth, in what felt like direct opposition to the oppressive heat that had been so dominant through the summer. Part of it was because of the weather. But part of the chill came from the fact that no one had been able to sleep that night.

There had been a tremendous fight in Jamaica Plain the previous night. The guns from both the Minutemen and the Quincy Insurgency had been going at it at all hours, alternating cascades of violence and man-made thunder. Reports coming in were sketchy, but it was rumored that scores had died, and Jamaica Plains had been completely leveled. There were other rumors that Piper Wright was coming back to Diamond City, but then there were also reports that she'd been injured. To what degree, no one knew. All anyone knew was that no one knew what was going on.

Horatio Zwicky was trying not to spend too much time thinking about these things. He was more concerned with the business in front of him now. He glanced over at the empty seat at the defense's table, and felt a pang of loneliness. He'd gotten a message from Dr. Sun, courtesy of a runner, that Zinn had stabilized…but he was out cold and in no condition to make it to the remainder of the trial. That meant that Horatio was completely alone.

As the crowd began to shuffle in, Horatio felt a presence behind him. He turned around. It was Darrow.

"Where's Zinn?" She asked.

Zwicky didn't bother with pleasantries.

"He was stabbed last night."

Darrow was silent for a moment. She wrinkled her nose slightly. Her mouth twitched downward. And then she spoke.

"Hmm. Crime. Boy, I don't know."

Before he could stop himself, Zwicky spoke.

"You know, Clarice, we owe it to the people to put forth a good final day of arguments and then closing. Which reminds me of a story: I had a particular class of students whom were like unmolded clay: full of potential, but didn't really have the shape yet. Their minds were there, their hearts just needed to be put in the right place. And I molded them and pushed them and got them to understand an important thing: that to truly succeed in winning a great victory for mankind, you need to do the right thing even if it carries consequences."

Darrow snorted.

"I'm sure your students remember with great clarity and pride the wonderful and powerful sermons delivered from your bully pulpit." She said.

"As a matter of fact, they do." Zwicky said. "Just last month I got a lovely letter from a former student of mine – Denise Richie – who's working down in Rivet City. That's all the way down in the Capital Wasteland. She's in shipping and construction, and hopes to be in charge of the reconstruction of the Citadel and other impressive buildings. And she just wanted to write me and let me know that she made it out of Diamond City and that she intends to win a great victory for mankind, because she remembers me always saying things like that."

"…And you're telling me this why?" Darrow asked.

"Because over the course of this trial you've managed to turn being ruthless and disengaged from people into a Zen-like thing, and you shouldn't enjoy it so much is all. And if it appears at times that I'm uncomfortable being around you, that's the only reason why."

Darrow smiled. It wasn't a kind one.

"And you, my friend, are a soft-hearted doormat. You're overeducated and frustrated with your lack of standing in the world. You've got your head in the clouds thinking that the world is going to be okay in the end as long as we clasp hands and sing a few songs, and to top it off you're not even an attorney. You're just a teacher." She shook her head. "And if it appears at times that I despise being around you, those some of the many reasons why."

She turned around and began to walk to her desk. Zwicky cleared his throat.

"Clarice?"

She turned around.

For the first time in a while, Zwicky wasn't slouching as he spoke.

"Teachers like me make a difference in this world. And when this trial is over, I'm going to go back to my job and help inspire more Denise Richies to change the world. Can you say the same?"

For the first time in a while, Darrow's icy demeanor cracked. A flash of rage and uncertainty flitted across her eyes. But then the moment passed, and she hastily walked away.

"Order in court!" Vadim bellowed, taking a seat at the table. "Order of business for today. Hear testimonial of prosecution witness, Dr. Madi-"

"Excuse me, your honor?"

Everyone turned to look at Horatio Zwicky, who had spoken up. He felt a countless sea of eyes upon him, and for a moment wondered whether his nerve would fail him. But then he cleared his throat again, and spoke.

"The…the defense would like to submit another witness for testimonial."

"Who is this witness?"

"Dr. Clayton Holdren, Head of BioSciences at the Institute." Zwicky said. "If the prosecution has no objections?" He looked over at Clarice Darrow. She was sitting at her desk, her back ramrod straight. She tapped her chin in thought, and then shook her head.

"No objections, Your Honor." She then smiled slightly. "On the grounds that the new witness testify first."

"A fair compromise." Vadim said, not noticing the disappointment in Zwicky's eyes as he rapped his gavel on the desk. "The Court calls Dr. Clayton Holdren to the stand."

Dr. Holdren cleared his throat as he sat down in the same chair that had held Dr. Virgil the day before. He seemed a complete opposite of Dr. Virgil: while he was equally as dirtied and tired looking, he didn't look emaciated and defeated. He seemed relatively at peace, though with what no one was certain. He tapped his fingers expectantly on the desk, waiting for someone to start talking to him.

Oh right. That would be him.

Horatio Zwicky got up from his chair, groaning slightly as his knees creaked. He started to pace back and forth. How had Zinn done it? How had he been so at ease in front of people, at speaking the things that he had spoken? Eventually, Zwicky could feel the pressure creeping up. But then, in the heat of the moment, he heard his wife's voice in his ear.

Don't worry, darling. This is just another lesson. Just another thing for everyone to learn.

And in that moment, he realized: he wasn't in a courtroom. He was just in an unorthodox classroom. And instead of trying to convince the people of something, he was there to teach them. To teach them not to give into the mob mentality that had resulted in his…was he a friend?...Zinn getting stabbed over an argument.

He took a deep breath.

"State your name for the court."

"Dr. Clayton Holdren."

"Your profession?"

"I was the head of the BioSciences division of the Institute."

"That's quite a mouthful, Doctor. Is it possible that you could specify?"

"Certainly." Dr. Holdren said. "I was basically in charge of the boring but practical things. I was the one that worked on medical advances. I was the one that worked on and signed off on terraforming and hydroponics. Which…now that I think about it isn't a terribly easy way of putting it. Put it this way: I usually involved myself in working on growing food, nurturing animals, and had a hand or two in advancing medication."

"That seems like critical work. Why do you call it boring?"

"Because it's not the kind of thing that most people think about when they think about the Institute. They usually think of the more…unsavory accusations. Kidnappings, etc."

Zwicky thought he saw Darrow furiously scribbling something in her notebook. He felt a pang of regret in his chest. Hopefully the Doctor's willingness to be forthright wouldn't come back to haunt him.

"Doctor Holdren, why did you agree to testify today?"

"Because I wanted to."

"…Why, though?"

"Why not?" Dr. Holdren asked. "While Dr. Virgil's testimony is important, he wasn't a part of the Institute for the past year or so. I was in the thick of it until the very end."

"If that is so, then can you elaborate to all of us the chain of command in the Institute?" Zwicky asked.

"Certainly." Holdren said. "At the top was Father. He had the final say on everything, and nothing went through without his approval. Then there was Dr. Li and Dr. Ayo. Dr. Li was sort of a swiss army knife scientist. Whatever needed to be worked on, she was willing to work on it. Though, truthfully, she was more involved in the 'theoretics' than the practicalities. She kind of found my work boring. I called it 'essential.'"

"And Dr. Ayo?"

"The head of security." Dr. Holdren said. "Dr. Ayo and I never interacted much."

Zwicky came to a realization.

"Dr. Holdren, is it a fair assumption to make that you know the least about the ins and outs of the Institute in comparison to the other department heads?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that I know nothing." Dr. Holdren said. "But if what you're suggesting is whether I was always the last person to be informed about something, then yes. That's a fair assumption to make."

"So you spent your entire time locked away working on food and medicine. Is that a fair assumption?"

"I'd say that's fair."

"Then why have you agreed to testify?"

"Because I'm not a fool." Dr. Holdren said. "I know why we're here. I know that the prosecution seeks to put us all away. I'm here to prevent that from happening."

"What do you mean by that?"

Dr. Holdren sighed. "I'm here to see to it that justice is done. That everyone receive what is the rightful verdict and fate."

"That's a very specific wording, Doctor." Zwicky said.

"I'm aware." Dr. Holdren said. "I know what the people of the Commonwealth want. They want to see all of us burn. I'm not unsympathetic to that claim. But I'm here to say that the majority of the people huddled over there in that group had no idea what the Institute is accused of doing, and as far as I am concerned they are all innocent souls."

"Are there some people in the Institute that you would consider otherwise?"

"…Yes." Dr. Holdren said.

"And where are they?"

"Dead." Dr. Holdren said. "Killed by the Minutemen or the explosion of the Institute. Whichever came first for them, I suppose."

Zwicky took a deep breath. And then he aked the question that seemed to materialize in front of him.

"So, Dr. Holdren, are you saying that, other than the Institute heads that are currently with us…no one that is in the Institute Remnant can be considered culpable for the accusations that the Institute face?"

"That is correct." Dr. Holdren said. "Other than the Institute heads, everyone that stands in that group is either a janitor, cafeteria worker, family member, or low-ranking grunt. None of them knew anything. None of them are guilty of the crimes that the Institute face. And to put them to death would be a gross injustice."

Zwicky nodded.

"Thank you, Dr. Holdren."

He walked back to his seat.

Darrow was on him in moments.

"Do you expect any of us to believe that?" She asked. She seemed to have dispensed with the pleasantries, and was going straight for the jugular. "You expect us to believe that there are only a few of you that are guilty of what the Commonwealth has suffered?"

"It's not about what you believe, Miss Darrow." Dr. Holdren said. "It's the truth. It's facts." He paused. "I'm a scientist. I know that facts are stubborn things. But whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passions, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence."

Darrow gave a derisive scoff, as if intending to do just that.

"How do any of us know that you aren't lying?" She asked. "How and why should we believe you when you say that you knew nothing of the atrocities until after the fact?"

She seemed particularly nasty today. Zwicky wondered what was going on.

"In a few moments, you're going to call Dr. Madison Li to the stand." Dr. Holdren said. "And she's going to dismiss me as the kid of the heads of the departments. And she'll no doubt suggest that I am easily led along. And she'll suggest that I knew about the Institute's great crimes and did nothing to stop it."

"But you didn't stop it!" Darrow positively yelled. "You let it happen! You did nothing to help the people of the Commonwealth, and you certainly didn't help the Synths that you all kept bent under your thumb."

"If he were alive today, I imagine Liam Binet would disagree."

The proceedings ground to a halt. Darrow's jaw fell open.

"What?" She asked.

"Liam Binet." Dr. Holdren said. "His family was dear to me. The fact that they didn't make it out…that eats me up every day. Because while his father was wrapped up in the 'science' of what we did, Liam…Liam was noble. He was trying to save the Synths. He was giving away information to some sort of underground resistance. Maybe even to the Minutemen. I'm not sure. But he certainly cared about the lives of the Synths that we made."

He saw that Darrow wasn't talking, so he continued.

"One day, I was walking down the hall, past a broom closet, and I thought I heard talking. It was Liam's voice. He sounded furtive and scared, like he was doing something that he shouldn't. I just know that there was another voice in the room, clearly on a headset of some sort, and they were discussing a plan to free some of the lower-level Synths. I was outside the door, and I heard everything." Dr. Holdren said. "I could have reported him. Could have sent him to Dr. Ayo, who would have gotten the information that he needed by any means necessary. Could have sent him to Father. Could have done so many things. But instead? I just kept walking. Because I knew, deep down in my gut, that there was something wrong with the Institute. And I was in too deep to stop it myself. But if Liam could do something…then I would let him. Because that was the noble and right thing to do."

He sniffled once.

"Liam's death weighs on me." He said. "Every death weighs on me. And with every day I've spent on the surface, I've only come to realize that what I was a part of was wrong. Maybe my department was designed for the greater good. But I was simply a cog in an overall machine that was a negative and painful influence on the world. And for that I cannot deny culpability." He stared at Darrow with piercing eyes. "If I am convicted of guilty by association, I will go to my gallows with no fear or regret in my heart. It is the right thing to do. But I'll be damned if I see you send the children and their parents and the downtrodden and innocent with me, simply because their only crime was being born underground."

There was a silence that seemed to last an eternity. Finally, Darrow spoke.

"The witness is excused."

She went back to her seat, and there was a change over her. Zwicky could feel it. At the onset of the trial, she had seen the Institute as this monolithic structure of menace and hate and fear. And perhaps it was, in the end. But now she seemed to have come to the same realization that Zwicky had discovered: that the people she was tasked to convict, in all likelihood, were as innocent of its crimes as she was. They were no longer the enemy, the shape-shifting and otherized "boogeyman."

They were humans. They were people.

He wondered if that realization had broken her.

Whatever plans that Clarice Darrow seemed to have for Madison Li evaporated. As the Doctor took the stand, she seemed to be far less assured of herself than when Zwicky had seen her earlier in the day. Zwicky stood up first to question, and when he saw that Darrow wasn't objecting, he began.

"Dr. Li, I have a few questions."

She looked at him with mournful eyes.

"The things that Dr. Holdren said…are they true?"

"…Yes." Dr. Li said. "The majority of the SRB, that secret police of ours, went down with the Institute itself. Other than myself, Clayton, Justin, and…well…maybe Alana…there's no one in that group over there that deserves to be hanged."

"And why is that?" Zwicky asked, with the measured tone of a teacher helping a student work through a particularly challenging problem.

"…Because they're just kids and teens and unaware family members." Dr. Li said. "Father was positively paranoid about people knowing things that they weren't supposed to. Not a single one of them over there, other than Justin or Alana, knew what was going on. They're all innocent."

"You are a witness of the prosecution, and you admit this under oath?" Zwicky asked.

"I do. I'm tired of the subterfuge. I'm tired of this damn trial." Dr. Li said wearily. "Just let us get to the verdict, whatever it may be."

Zwicky looked at her, and nodded sagely.

"Nothing further, Your Honor." He said.

"Does the prosecution have anything to ask?" Vadim asked, looking over at the table in question.

Zwicky looked over at Darrow. He saw her with her head buried in her hands.

She didn't say anything.

Horatio Zwicky felt calm.

But at the same time, he didn't feel all that happy in the end.

A/N: And come the next chapter, we receive the final part of the trial. The verdict.