A/N: A long note, but as it's probably going to be the last one, please read it anyway!

Sorry for the long wait for this chapter, so here's two to make up for it!

A little on the Don't Ask Don't Tell policy; so it was initiated by the Clinton government as a compromise policy. What Clinton was trying to do was completely overturn the policy that prevented homosexual people serving in the armed forces full stop. However, the conservatives in the government (and in society) would not have that at all and after a fair bit of bickering, DADT was decided on as a compromise, homosexuals could serve but only if they kept their mouth shut. The military was forbidden from explicitly asking its members about their sexual orientation for as long as they didn't say anything or act in an overtly gay manner. Under the policy, if you came out then you would normally get an administrative (i.e. you don't have to face an actual court martial to be issued with one) general (i.e. not dishonourable) discharge. But if you got caught in a compromising position or with any other complicating factors, you get a dishonourable discharge, which is a pretty severe punishment for, in my opinion, a ridiculous "crime." The current Obama government is in the process of repealing DADT however, that process in itself takes a while and the policy will not be officially removed until late this year. At the same time, seven years have passed in our world but not for the world of the Scarecrow, so he's still facing the full brunt of the policy.

I wrote this story to bring attention to the fact that it is a horrible discriminatory policy which can seriously ruin the lives of good people who are just trying to serve their country. I could have chosen any of the characters in the books to write this about but I chose Scarecrow because he's the character that will resonate the most with people and because he is a bit of an enigma, ergo easy to screw around with.

Huge thank you if you read this the whole way through (ridiculously long notes and all) and an even bigger thank you to the two people who reviewed, this isn't a particularly active fandom so that you two took the time to give me a bit of encouragement when I needed it was very much appreciated. Even if you didn't like it, I hope it made you think.

Thanks, and that's all, here's a nice long chapter to finish it off.

Chapter 10

Captain Shane M. Schofield, United States Marine Corp, walked purposefully into the room with his head held high. The medals on his chest clinked softly as he moved. Something about the man exuded a calm composure and grace under fire.

To Schofield, the walk down the narrow isle seemed to take forever but he kept his eyes fixed on the empty seat beside his lawyer and did not turn his head either left or right the entire way down. Shane took his place beside the lawyer, standing straight-backed and sure, before looking up for the first time at the judge. He was an older man. His skin was as dark as night but with his moustache was flecked with white. Schofield thought he looked tired but not unkind. Since this was only an article 32 hearing, Schofield would be tried by the judge as opposed to a jury of his peers. He indicated for them to be seated and the court sat as one.

The judge, seated high above the crowd, shuffled through some papers before turning his attention to those seated in the front.

The glasses he wore twinkled in the bright light of the courtroom, they slipped a little down the bridge of his nose as he peered at them pensively, before saying in a calming, steady voice with a southern drawl, "Councils may begin making their opening statements."

The prosecution had the right to go first, so Schofield watched in forced silence as another lanky naval lawyer stood up and began to speak confidently and articulately about how his disgraceful actions had shown contempt for his commission and his country. It wasn't helpful to listen to himself be belittled and accused in such a manner so Shane tried to tune it out, his heart was now thumping loudly in his chest and ears, making it easy to do.

The prosecutor concluded and inclined his head at the judge and the court before returning to his seat. Smoothly, his own lawyer stood up and began making his own eloquent remarks. Though it sounded very impressive, it was all legal jargon to Schofield and he found he heard even less of this speech than the previous, the thumping becoming so wild he was sure the entire court could hear it. Phrases such as "inconclusive evidence" and "recommended non-judicial punishment" jumped out at him amongst the verbose address but he could make little sense of it.

He was glad when the lawyer returned to the seat next to him. The judge started to shuffle his papers again and Schofield saw his opportunity. He tapped the lawyer on the shoulder and said quietly, "I want to take the stand."

The lawyer turned to face him abruptly with a stunned look on his face. They hadn't discussed this and it wasn't part of his plan. He hissed back at him, "if I call you up, the prosecution has the right to cross-examine you and I'm reminding you now that you will be under oath. You'll have to tell them the truth and that would be a very bad idea."

The judge looked at them with his piercing eyes, "Something wrong, councillor?" He asked.

The lawyer continued to look at Schofield, saw the determination in his startling blue eyes behind the equally startling scars. Eyes still fixed on Schofield, he replied "No sir."

"Then you may call your first witness."

With a great deal of reluctance, the lawyer spoke, "the defence calls Captain Schofield to the stand."

Shane made his way up to the slightly raised witness booth on the left hand side of the courtroom. He settled himself in the worn wooded seat and looked around the courtroom for the first time.
What he saw sure as hell didn't make him feel any better.
Sitting a couple of rows back, all in pressed dress uniforms, sat six smiling faces that he recognised.
Book and Mother, who he spared a small smile for. Their presence was reassuring;
Bigfoot, who looked as calm and controlled as he always did. Schofield really wasn't sure what was going on in the big man's head, or if he'd even worked out what he'd overheard meant;
Skip and Astro, looking very young and out of place in the severe courtroom;
And Rebound, a bundle of nervous energy as always.

For a minute, Schofield wished he wasn't in command of them. That he could have just been one of the thousands of enlisted men with a superior to confide in, instead of being the role model to look up to. Suddenly, his sight was filled with a young corporal standing in front of him, holding out a bible for him to swear oath on.

The brown leather was soft and smooth beneath his hand and he was glad to hear his voice was steady, not betraying even a hint of fear, when he spoke,
"I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God."

"Captain," the lawyer began as he paced the narrow stretch of floor in front of the bench, "can you tell the court about your military service."

"Objection, relevance?" The prosecuting lawyer was on his feet in seconds.

"I'm inclined to agree, councillor. Where is this line of questioning going?" The judge replied.

His own lawyers response was quick, "I'm trying to establish a character profile sir, demonstrate that the actions which Captain Schofield is charged with were an isolated, out of character event in a distinguished military career."

"Fine, I'll allow it but I want it quick, Captain," the judge said addressing Schofield directly, "It's been a long day."

Schofield thought for a moment before he spoke, he was generally a very modest person but even that couldn't hide that he did have one hell of a service record.

"I joined the corp right out of college," he said, "served on the U.S.S. Wasp, first lieutenant flight status, fought in Bosnia and Serbia but I was shot down and injured, couldn't fly again after that." He touched the two scars running down his eyelids briefly for emphasis before continuing,
"Been a ground marine ever since, served in recon, special ops and presidential detachment and done tour of duty all over the place from Antarctica to Afghanistan."

The lawyer continued to pace, "That's a medal of honour you're wearing, correct?"

"Yes sir," he said.

"That's a pretty high award, how'd you get it?

"It's classified, sir."

The lawyer laughed a little, "Of course," he said, "but only the President of the United States himself has the authority to award those, right?"

"Yes, sir."

The other lawyer was back on his feet, "Objection, relevance again?" He said shortly.

"Sustained," the judge replied, "keep your questions to the task at hand councillor."

The lawyer inclined his head at the judge before resuming his questions.
"There were no witnesses to the fight between yourself and corporal Sanchez were there Captain?"

The prosecutor got there first before Schofield could answer, "Objection, he's leading the witness."

Before the judge could say anything, his lawyer said "I'll rephrase; were there any witnesses to the fight in question Captain?"

"Only the end of it, sir," Schofield said.

"So nobody actually saw what happened," he said smoothly then hastily adding "Withdrawn" before the prosecution could object yet again. Even though the statement would be disallowed, by saying it anyway he had at least been able to point it out to the judge.

"Can you tell me what the relationship between yourself and Corporal Sanchez is like, Captain?" He asked, hoping like hell that he hadn't just asked an inappropriate question.

"We've had our differences," came Schofield's innocuous reply and the lawyer breathed a sigh of relief.

The lawyer stopped his pacing and stood in front of Schofield, he asked, "If you don't get on, why did you select him for your unit?"

A couple of seconds passed before Schofield answered, "We've worked together before in a different recon unit I was in command of. He's a good man and a good soldier, personal differences or no, I could trust him with my life."

"So you at least are capable of putting aside your 'personal differences' as you put it for the sake of professionalism," he said smoothly and wasn't surprised to hear a slightly weary voice behind him say, "Objection."

"Withdrawn," he added, smiling slightly.

Turning to the judge, he said "no further questions your honour." He hadn't been prepared to question Schofield and he wanted him off the stand as quickly as possible before he could do any damage. As he returned to his seat, he saw the prosecution lawyer stand up and stride towards Schofield. In his seat, he quickly uttered a silent prayer to a whole host of gods he didn't believe in that the prosecutor wouldn't tear Schofield to shreds and that Schofield himself wouldn't say anything too stupid.

The prosecuting lawyer approached Schofield as a lion might approach a particularly tasty looking piece of meat.

"How is it, Captain," he leered a little, "that on a crowded marine base there could be no witnesses to your little fight?"

Schofield was calm in his response. "Most of the other marines on base were involved in drill practice but I had been injured so my unit were free to go. They were all in the showers and Sanchez and I were alone in the locker room."

"Why weren't you in the showers as well?"

"I had to return the rifle we were using. One of the boys left it in the locker room so I went to retrieve it."

The defence lawyer let out the breath he didn't even realise he had been holding. Maybe Schofield wasn't suicidal after all.

"And Corporal Sanchez? Why wasn't he in the showers?" He locked eyes with Schofield, who refused to back down from the challenge and said as coolly as he could muster,
"You'd have to ask him, sir."

"You didn't plan to meet there and work out some of your, er, 'personal differences'?"

"No, sir."

"So it was a spontaneous attack then?"

Schofield's cool exterior cracked a little and he leant forward in his chair, "It wasn't like that sir. It was just a minor disagreement."

The lawyer stood directly in front of Schofield, who, even though he was seated in the raised witness stand, was still slightly below his eye level. Looking down at him, at the healing cut on his lip and the shiner which partially obscured his right scar, he said, "That's some pretty impressive bruising for a minor disagreement, Captain."

"We're marines, sir," Schofield replied, "These injuries are nothing."

"I wasn't aware marines bruised that easily," the lawyer replied coldly.

Schofield stood up at the same time as his own lawyer did.

The lawyer managed to speak first, "Objection," he called, "he's badgering my witness."

"Sustained," the judge said sharply, "Councillor, tone it down and confine your questions to the scope of cross-examination; Captain, sit down!"

Schofield resumed his seat and glared at the lawyer, who had begun to pace the room with long confident strides.

He stopped abruptly at one end of the room and, without looking at Schofield, said "All right then Captain, in your own words, why don't you tell the court exactly what happened."

Shane took a deep breath before he began to speak.
"I went to retrieve the gun," he said, "and Sanchez was there in the locker room. He stopped me from leaving, he provoked me and I was already pretty wound up. I just couldn't deal with it right then, so -"

"So you hit him?" The lawyer cut across him.

"Yes," Schofield said softly, staring at his lap, "and I'm not proud of it."

"And what sort of provocation, to your mind, justifies assaulting a man, Captain?" The lawyer asked.

Schofield was silent for a long moment, so the lawyer turned to look him. "Well, Captain," he pressed.

"I can't say," he said. His voice shook a tiny amount to match the slight tremble in his hands.

"I beg your pardon?" The prosecutor said menacingly as he walked towards Schofield.

"I said, I can't tell you." His voice was a little stronger now and he looked up to meet the eyes of the lawyer.

"I heard you the first time Captain, now I want to know what you mean by it?" He said, his voice rising with anger.

Book and Mother exchanged a confused look, whilst the defence lawyer also jumped to his feet, hoping to avoid a disaster. "Objection, your honour he's still badgering the witness," He said.

"The witness is hostile, your honour, instruct him to answer the question." The prosecuting lawyer replied sharply, a cold fury evident in his voice.

The judge's voice rang above them both, "Council, approach the bench!"

Both lawyers made their way across the courtroom to stand in front of the judge, who addressed them in a dangerous whisper.
"This is my courtroom," he said, "and this is only an article 32 hearing. I've had enough of your showboating, anymore and I'll have you both thrown out for contempt of court. Do I make myself clear?"

Both lawyers murmured a hushed "yes, sir" and returned to their previous positions. The judge then turned his attention to Schofield.
"Captain," he addressed him kindly, "you do need to answer the question."

Schofield nodded slightly before opening his mouth to speak, but found that the words wouldn't come. He closed it again and took another deep, shuddering breath, aware of every eye in the court upon him, and tried again.
"He'd found out something I didn't want anyone, let alone him, to know," he said slowly, "and he was taunting me about it. He made it sound like he was going to tell everyone else and I couldn't handle the thought of everybody finding out."

He stopped again to draw another deep breath. He was visibly rattled, so the judge held up a hand to stop the prosecution from saying anything and instead asked himself, lines furrowing his face, "Why was he taunting you?"

Schofield looked up, he sought out his unit. Most of them were looking perplexed, except for Book II and Mother, who looked worried.

"He isn't going to, is he?" Book whispered to Mother.
"I think he is," Mother replied.

He couldn't say it whilst looking at them all. He didn't want to see the disappointment in their eyes.
Instead, he turned back to look at the judge.

For only the second time in his life, he allowed the words to slip past his lips.

"Because I'm gay."

All hell broke loose in the courtroom. The low level photographers and journalists at the back of the courtroom assigned to what everyone had thought would be a monotonous day in court were suddenly about to witness one of the more controversial military policies in action. The cameras flashed and the observers broke out in a babble of conversation and above it all, Mother could be heard to roar, "Ah shit!"

Schofield looked anywhere but the eyes of his marines.

Beside him, the judge brought his gravel down with a mighty crash. "Order," he called.

He sighed and his shoulders seemed to sag a little when he spoke again. "I've heard enough," he said, "I bring this case to a close."

"But … what about closing statements?" The defence lawyer stuttered.

The judge passed a weary hand over his eyes, "You have thirty seconds."

The lawyer stood up quickly and hurriedly gathered the papers he had strewn across his desk.
"Your honour," he said, "I just ask that the court remember the offences with which Captain Schofield is being charged and take the irrelevance of any other information provided as well as the Captain's distinguished military career into consideration and as such, be wise and lenient in their decision. Thank you."
He sat down just as abruptly, looking thoroughly flustered, knowing it was useless now.

The judge looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "Thank you for telling me how to do my job," he said and the lawyer gulped. "Does the prosecution wish to speak?"

The other lawyer was sitting smug in his seat. "No thank you, your honour. I think it's all been said." He replied.

"Very well, court will adjourn for ten minutes whilst I make my decision." He banged his gravel again, and with that, it was all over.

As the court filed out, Mother tried to shepherd some very stunned young marines out as well. She chucked a quick glance over her shoulder at Schofield, still sitting in the witness stand, looking utterly shell-shocked and a little lost but she couldn't go over to him as another security guard separated them. "Come on you lot," she said a little gruffer than she meant as she steered them out the door.

They collapsed onto some benches just outside the courtroom. None of them spoke. After a minute or two, Rebound was the first to break the heavy silence.

"Was he for real?" He asked, sounding dazed.

It was Book II, leaning up against the wall and staring at the ornate roof that answered.

"Yep," he said without looking at Rebound, "pretty damn real Rebound."

"Is this cause Libby died?" He asked. Something in his voice was almost childlike, pleading, as though this was something he just couldn't understand.

"No," Book answered again, "This has been his secret for a long time, before Libby was even in the picture."

"But he's the Scarecrow."

"And he still is the Scarecrow. Nothing about him has changed, so just deal with it." Book's tone was defensive.

Skip calmly placed a hand on Rebound's shoulder to silence him and spoke up herself, "Nobody's saying anything against him here. Hell, you've all known him a lot longer and better than I have, but even I can tell he's a good bloke who cares about his men and gets your respect for it. That's not changed either. Now all you three," she continued, indicating to Book II, Mother and Bigfoot, "And Sanchez already knew. We're all just trying to understand here."

Nobody spoke again after that.

Meanwhile, still inside the courtroom, Schofield sat in the witness chair. His lawyer walked over to him cautiously and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Come on," he said as he led Schofield back to his chair. The lawyer looked frazzled and Shane still looked quite dazed, as though he couldn't quite believe he'd actually done it.

"I wish you'd told me you were going to do that," the lawyer eventually said.

"Wasn't really sure I was going to until I had," Schofield replied.

"Well, we can only wait now."

And the pair of them sat in brooding silence until the judge and observers filed back in.

The judge sat down and silence fell over the courtroom again. Schofield looked up at him; his crinkled eyes looked older and sad. He tried to convey with his own eyes that it was okay, he knew what had to happen, but he wasn't sure he was successful.

"Will the defendant please rise," he said, his booming voice seemed to have lost some of its commanding nature.

Schofield stood; steadying himself for what he was sure was coming his way.

The judge looked straight at him for a long moment and shook his head barely perceptibly before dropping his eyes and reading off a piece of paper set in front of him, in a resigned tone,

"Captain Shane M. Schofield, on the charge and specification of Duelling, this court finds you not guilty. On the charge and specification of Conduct Unbecoming an Officer, this court finds you guilty. You will not proceed to court martial under the Uniform Code of Military Justice as you are found to be in noncompliance to paragraph 645 of the United States Code, section B.2 which explicitly states that a member of the armed forces may be separated from the armed forces if that member has stated that he or she is homosexual. You are hereby stripped of all rank and privileges and dishonourably discharged from the United States Marine Corp."

As the court behind him erupted again, Schofield wanted nothing more than to sink back into his chair and collapse. His knees felt weak but he stood there anyway, straight-backed and tall. After all, he was a marine, no matter what they said or did. They say that if you ask a naval or army officer what they do, they will say 'I'm in the navy' or 'I'm in the army,' but if you ask a marine the same question, the answer will be 'I am a marine.' They could throw him out of the marines but they couldn't take the marine out of the Scarecrow.