Her Majesty's Crown Courts
8th July
It's the first day of Brendan's trial, yet it's robin that is full of nerves, anxiousness seeping out of the teenager's pours. The younger man has hardly slept, and so when Brendan wakes up early for the transport van, Robin is already up.
"You watching me sleep kid?" Brendan asks over a yawn. "Do I need to be worried about you trying to climb into bed with me again?"
Robin knows what Brendan is trying to do. He's trying to calm him down, trying to make light of the situation. Even so, it works in a way. The boy smiles a little, letting out a small breathy laugh. It's strange to think where they've come from and where they are now.
When he first found out Brendan Brady was going to be his cellmate, that the psycho was already in his cell while Robin was in the infirmary, recovering from the latest attack he though 'thank God'. The terror that was ignited within the boy made him believe in God, if just for a moment, someone up there must have been on his side. At least he'd have a few safe days locked away from the man.
Then his x-rays and test results came back and it turned out his injuries weren't as bad as originally believed. Robin was to return to his cell the following day. For the second time in a mere twenty-four hours Robin thought there might just be a higher power. One with a sick sense of humour, one that took immense pleasure in playing with him.
It turned out Brendan wasn't so bad. From what Robin could tell of the man was basically mute, kept to himself, and hadn't acknowledged his existence. Robin was all right with being invisible, invisible meant unharmed.
Then there was the night he though Brendan wanted more from him, thought that Brendan was like the other monsters in the prison. So he climbed out of his bed and into Brendan's. If he had learnt anything in life it was people would take what they wanted, if you submitted, didn't put up a struggle it would hurt less, be over quicker.
Back then he didn't know Brendan as well as he does now, Robin wasn't able to read the Irishman's micro-expressions. But now, looking back, it's like re-watching a movie he's seen ten times already but only no understanding the actual message.
"Are you even gay?" Brendan had asked.
"Like that even matters, there's only one thing a guy like me is good for around here."
He's accused Brendan of being a rapist, and he hadn't seen it that night but for half a second Brendan looked sick to his stomach. How hadn't he seen it?
"I'm sorry." Robin apologises, feeling sick to his stomach.
"What for?"
"That night you helped me, stopped me getting my face caved in and I, I… I made prejudgments about you. I was wrong."
Brendan simply smiles, not wanting to dwell on what those prejudgments were. The thing that he had already been accused of, that the entire population of Hollyoaks Village believed him capable of.
If it created doubt in Steven's mind, the person that should have know what he was and wasn't capable of, better than anyone else then Brendan can't hold it against someone that was a stranger to him at the time.
"Lets have breakfast, the guards will be in soon." Brendan says, changing the subject.
-8-
The first day of the trial, goes much as Brendan expects. The prosecution presents evidence that portrays him as a clod blooded killer. Five people dead at Brendan's hands, including his grandmother and for apparently no reason, his father. All very predictable, a bore really where Brendan is concerned.
Even though it isn't his time to argue his case, Jim at least is entertaining, never idle for long. He had a whole plethora of phrases such as "My Lord, I must object to this line of questioning" and "I do believe my learned friend is leading the witness" or "Obviously the prosecution is fond of hyperbole, My Lord. My client is hardly a violent, psychotic, career criminal, merely an expressive, misunderstood entrepreneur." The man said it all with a smile on his face, rolling on the balls of his feet and crossing his arms with conviction.
-8-
10th July
The prosecution had spent the last three days making their case. Tomorrow Jim is going build the defence. He warns the Irishman that it will be an early start and a very long day, the Chief Crown Prosecutors wanted the case over with quickly. If Jim was right there would be no recesses, realistically it won't take long for the jury to reach a guilty verdict, they could be out of there by late afternoon.
-8-
11th July
The court case has its benefits, Brendan is able to wear a suit, he had Jim reclaim the clothing the police had confiscate from Steven's, a different suit for everyday in court. Not an oversized, standard-issue, prison jumper in sight. He'd missed it, the feeling of expensive cotton against his skin, the sleek fit of the dark virgin wool of his suit. On the outside world it made him feel more powerful, showed the people his status, in the courtroom, on the dock, with all those eyes on him it makes him feel less venerable.
"You haven't finished packing yet."
Robin is sat on his bed, watching Brendan style is hair, all the young boy's belongings already packed in a bag and a few boxes. Today is the day that Robin and a few other inmates would be moved to Manchester prison, as well as prisoners from the courthouse, such as Brendan who would be sentenced by the end of the day.
"My things hardly feel half a duffle bag, I have time before the van gets here."
"No, no." The young boy refuses, shaking his head to stuff Brendan's things into his holdall. "You need to get it done so whatever the judge decides you'll be ready."
The boy is manic almost, gathering the few things Brendan has around the room into a pile ready to be packed away. Muttering something Brendan can't quite pick up, about staying together maybe.
Brendan takes the picture of his children out of Robin's hands, putting it back on the desk before turning to take hold of the now trembling boy. Brendan places one hand on Robin's shoulder, the other on the boy's neck in attempt to calm him through contact and crouches slightly so they are eye to eye.
Brendan is pretty sure the boy is having a panic attack, he can fill Robin's erratic pulse, beating rapidly under his palm. There is a film of sweat covering his forehead and his pupils are completely blown. The younger man is trying to speak, but he can't get it out, literally choking on every word.
"Just relax. Don't try to speak" Brendan tells the boy. "Breath for me, nice and slow."
Robin locks his gaze on Brendan, trying to get his breathing under control – in through his nose and out though his mouth. He is scared that if he looks away for just a second, even to blink that the man will disappear. Brendan's voice is his anchor. The man keeps telling him to breath, just like that, tells Robin that he is doing much better.
He doesn't know how long it lasts for, shaking limbs, his chest tightening in pain and stomach churning, nausea rising within in him. He just knows that he feels like he's drowning and in that moment he can't help but think it may be easier to drown, submerging himself full in the fear, rather than swimming back to the surface. But Brendan's there though it all, the light at the end of the tunnel, and even though it is exhausting, he breathes deeply and counts to ten. Fighting through it, till the dizziness clears and he is back in the room with Brendan.
What he had learned as a boy is that people only ask, "How are you?" to hear you say "fine". It gives them permission to paint brush over the problem, pretending that it's not there. He had been conditioned to say "I'm fine", "things are good" and "yeah, not bad" with a smile on his face, because no body wanted to hear him cry over the misery corroding his heart.
But looking into the eyes of the man in front of him, he believes it when Brendan asks "how you doing kid, okay?" and so he answers honestly.
"I can't do this without you."
"You won't have to, I ain't going anywhere." Brendan tells him confused.
"But I am. My transfer has been put in, no matter what happens in court, this time tomorrow I'll be in Manchester."
"We both will."
"Not if the Governor has his way and it's my fault."
"Wait? That was you, who strangled a man to death in the middle of dinner?" Brendan jokes.
Robin can't help but laugh, sniffing and wiping away tears. "No. But I spoke to him, trying to get you out of isolation and he got pissed."
"No, I mad him look bad, like he couldn't control his prison. That's why he's out for my blood."
"It doesn't matter why. It just matters that he's going to make sure that you aren't transferred. That you serve your sentence here, in this cell, with out me."
"That's not going to happen."
Jim had told him of the Governor's threats, that there had been worries of placing Brendan in this particular prison because he could be too unpredictable. The Governor had ensured his superiors that he could deal with Brendan, handle him, that his prison was the right place for the man until his sentencing.
But, Brendan had killed a man in a room full of guards, got the other inmates all riled up. He had made a fool of the Governor and the man was going to spend the rest of his career making him pay for it.
With a vindictive Prison Governor out to get him, it was easy to explain to Jim why he would want to serve his sentence in a high security prison, without bringing up the need to protect the red headed boy. Jim hadn't been worried, the Governor had acted out of protocol and clearly didn't know how to handle a high profile prisoner so if Brendan wanted to be transferred, Jim could make it happen.
"My lawyer has that covered." Brendan reassures the boy.
Robin knows he is being selfish, that with good behaviour and privileges to be gained life in a Category B/C prison could be bearable. A game's room, extended yard time and the chance of having electronic game consoles in your room, not exactly a holiday camp but better that a Category A prison. Robin was basically asking Brendan to give up what little freedom he had left, it was selfish he knew, but he had to ask. He had lost his mother at birth, never known her, lost his sister as a teen, he would surly lose his father to illness in the coming years and he had lost the only girl he had ever cared for – well he never really had her. So nineteen years on after his first big loss, Robin still had a hard time letting things go, he couldn't lose Brendan.
"You're sure?"
Brendan wants to promise the boy that they would both be in the van to Manchester this evening, he is sure of it but he also knows that the universe had a way of fucking him over. So instead he simply hugs the boy. Looking up at the noise of the guards coming to collect him.
Both guards look uncomfortable at the sight, and so one indicates that it is time to go. Brendan hugs the smaller boy slightly tighter, wanting to promise that everything will be okay, that it will all turn out okay, or as okay as things can't get for men facing life in prison. But he knows that hope can be a dangerous thing in prison. Can drive a man insane. Hope has no place here.
Maybe Robin should get used to the idea.
Brendan's parting words involve a joke about getting another young lad in need of a guardian angel if he does end up staying in Liverpool. That Brendan can stay up all night listening to the next lad's problems, helping him sleep well, like a lullaby.
Realising the memories he is drawing from – "that's me, I'm like a lullaby" – a shiver runs down his back and Brendan leave the cell.
-8-
It will be a further thirty-five minutes before the Judge is ready and the day's proceedings start. It was the same everyday, Brendan was to arrive at the courthouse ridiculously early, Jim would buy him breakfast from a cafe near by - it was a chocolate Danish, apple and of course a sugary coffee today.
Once they are settled Jimmy begins to review his strategy, and line of questioning for the witnesses.
As far as the world is concerned Brendan was the only person in the room at the time of Danny's death, there is no one to back up his claims of protecting Steven. Jim is planning on using the polices' own file on Danny against them, they had a list of murders they had suspected him of committing. The friends and families of people he had grievances with. If the police believed he was capable of murder, why wouldn't Brendan take him seriously?
Theresa McQueen, will be the first witness to take the stand. She is pretty, blond and dopey and has a way of playing victim. A young single mother, the jury would eat up her story. It will be impossible not to see Mickey for the dangerous monster he was after she tells them how he had befriended her, lured her away using the stolen phone of her boyfriend. Then proceeding to beat her and then taking her hostage.
Then it would be Joel, also there to tarnish Mickey's reputation. How the man had beat him up his entire life, sine he was just a boy. And now that he had built a life for himself, had a business of his own, tried to get his mother away, Mickey had come after him yet again. Brendan being the only person he could turn to for protection.
Jim had also tracked down one of Nana Flo's friends and her oncologist. They would both tell tales of her depression and hatred of hospitals. The woman had not been quiet in her desire to die in her own home, to visit her holiday home with her grandchildren before the time came. Both woman had got the impression that she wanted to take her life under her own terms and wouldn't be surprised if she had asked her beloved grandson to do it. The old bat was always looking for a loophole.
Shawnee would be his final witness, he had kept that one under his belt until the last possible moment. He wanted to take the woman by surprise, had seen how discussing Walker had flustered her. She knew Walker was personally attached to the case, she should have never have let him get so involved. When Walker went on to unravel, not showing any results and then shooting a fellow officer that was the time to remove him. Shawnee had failed to do so and Walker went to attack her and then to kill someone. An innocent man that would now never see his son, hadn't even found out he would to be a father again. Walker had gone on a crime spree, Jim would argue that it had been Shawnee's fault, that the woman had many chances to end the whole thing but she had messed it up and now she was leading the investigator into his death. Jim was planning on turning to the jury and asking them if they could see the conflict of interest?
He also had a way of dealing with the Governor, who was still out for revenge. A crime had occurred in his prison and rather than phoning the actual police to have Brendan rearrested, and have all the witnesses give their statements for a second trail, the situation had been mishandled. Brendan was thrown into a dark cell. It wasn't illegal in England, but studies had said it should be considered a form of psychological torture. A period of confinement longer than a few weeks could cause irreversible damage, and the Governor had been heard threatening to lock Brendan away indefinitely until the man starved to death.
The county had made a mess and the press had been covering the case all week and everyone wanted it over. He couldn't get Brendan off, but he was going to reduce the sentence, get Brendan parole and start pre-work on ruining the Browning case.
Jim was almost finished talking Brendan through the day's plan when a guard walked in.
"I'm here to take the prisoner to use the restroom."
Brendan couldn't help but find that odd, he looks over his lawyer but Jim doesn't seem to have a clue either. He has half a mind to protest, he's a grown man and will use the facilities when he needs, not as some sort of precaution. But honestly any excuse to get away from Jim's inane chatter and the loud chewing sounds he made, should be taken.
Brendan is handcuffed, as he always on leaving the meeting room. He doesn't see the point, it was a courthouse, filled with armed police officers, cameras and metal detectors along with an officer at every entrance.
When they get to the men's bathroom the guard stops Brendan and removes the hand cuffs, indicating for the Irishman to enter alone. Brendan also finds this odd, normally there are two officers. One to stay with him at all times, the other to make sure the restroom was empty. Only then would he be allowed to enter and un-cuffed, one guard standing by the door to ensure nobody enters.
He isn't going to complain, he can't actually remember the last time he had a moment to himself. So he enters the bathroom, stretching out the ache in his shoulder, coming face to face with a familiar face.
"What are you doing here?" Brendan asks the young man, turning to make sure the door is closed behind him, the officer unaware.
"I'm here to testifier." The lad replies nonchalantly, all that is missing is the 'duh'.
"Joel." Brendan says sternly. "I'm not allowed to have contact with any witnesses at the courthouse, unsupervised, epically not until you have testified."
"Well that's not happening." Joel says with a smirk on his face, feeling pretty please with himself. So far his plan is working out.
"Are you seriously fucking backing out? Now?" Brendan demands, stalking forward. "Is this some sort of payback?" Brendan is honestly surprised, he thought he had sorted everything with the younger man.
"God, relax, hothead. I'm not testifying because there isn't going to be a trial." He clarifies.
Brendan stops approaching Joel, the boy looks happy, like he was delivering good news. Brendan on the other hand is confused and his face is showing it.
"I'm breaking you out!"