A/N: WARNINGS FOR DESCRIPTIONS OF ABUSE (again). Also again, don't chew me out on this court stuff. I'm going off what I see on TV.
Kurt tugged his tie nervously. Sebastian leaned over and took his hand off the garment and tangled their fingers together, brushing his lips along the back of Kurt's hand. Kurt was trembling with anxiety. Patrice patted his shoulder. Kurt twisted in his seat to look back at Sebastian. He smiled tightly, trying to be encouraging.
"It's going to be okay, Swan," he whispered.
"We're going to get this over with as quickly as possible," Patrice assured him.
"All rise," called the court marshal. They all stood, Sebastian releasing Kurt's hand, as the judge came in. He motioned them to sit.
"Prosecution, opening statement," the judge said brusquely. Patrice stood, nodding at Kurt reassuringly. His statement was clean cut, to the point and powerful. The defense had just a convincing case, however. Kurt looked at Patrice.
"We've got the evidence, Kurt, don't worry," Patrice whispered.
Kurt kept his eyes steadfastly forward, not looking to Veronica on the right. He could barely keep himself from shaking. Every so often he would reach around to touch the scar on his back. Patrice touched his arm when he stood, indicating that he would be called to the stand first. Sebastian had also agreed to testify, handing over print-outs of all the instances they had discussed his abuse online. Gail was an expert witness on the psychological damage if needed. And Patrice had hunted down the other driver of the car in the accident along with expert witnesses saying the car had been purposefully hit.
Kurt stood, hearing his name. He walked slowly to the bench, knowing it was time; he had to look at her. He took the oath and sat in the little squared off thing. He met Sebastian's eyes, taking some strength from his gaze.
"Kurt Hummel, did you suffer from domestic abuse?" Patrice started off.
"Yes," he said, loud enough for the court room to hear.
"And how long had this been going on?"
"Since my father died, so about two and a half years."
"What was the first instance of this abuse?"
"She hit me."
"What were the circumstances?"
"I didn't have dinner ready on time. So she hit me hard enough to send me flying against the counter and I blacked out."
"And it got worse from there?"
"Correct."
"What was the peak incident before the 'accident' occurred?" he asked, punctuating the word accident as if giving it air quotes.
"This past August on her birthday. The incidences were never fatal, but this one could have been."
"Can you describe what happened?" Kurt's eyes locked on Sebastian and he took a breath to steady himself. Sebastian nodded.
You can do it, Swan.
"She got drunk, because it was her birthday. She came home and I heard her shuffling upstairs – my room is in the basement – and then she called me up. I went upstairs and she immediately started after me. She had a knife tied to a broom handle and she was coming at me with it."
"Did she say anything?" Kurt trembled.
"She kept saying that if God wanted me to live, he would keep the knife from hitting me. But she said He probably wouldn't, because I was only some stupid little fag. And no one cares about a faggot." Sebastian was livid. His mother's hand on his arm was the only thing keeping him from launching himself across the court room at Veronica. He felt a sudden anchor and looked up to meet Kurt's eyes.
I'm okay, Infamy.
"So the knife did hit you?"
"Yes."
"We have evidence of this," Patrice said, nodding for the pictures to be sent around. "So why did the accident happen? Did she tell you?"
"Well, after that she kept saying that she didn't know why she was letting me live. God didn't want me alive, so why should she?"
"So when was this accident?"
"It was late December, just after Christmas."
"Can you explain what happened?"
"She was driving us home from a friendly get-together Mr. Schuester – our Glee Club advisor – was having for the club members and their parents. It was dark out. She came to a stop sign, but when she saw another car coming, she pulled out into the street. I asked her what she was doing, and tried to beg her to stop. She did stop, so I begged her to keep going, because we were in the middle of the road. But she started saying she was doing God's work and she was being merciful and killing me quickly instead of letting me suffer throughout my life because God would make me suffer for being unnatural." His eyes came up to Sebastian's again. He must have seen something in Sebastian's eyes that he could draw strength from, because a sudden flame sparked in his own glasz eyes and he continued.
"The other car was honking to make us move, but she didn't. And then they were slamming into me and I don't remember anything until I woke up in the hospital."
"So she admitted she was trying to kill you?"
"Yes."
"No further questions, your honor," Patrice said, saving the rape for later. The attorney for the defense stood.
"Now, Kurt, you were bullied in school, right?" he begins. His voice was nasally and his toupee looked utterly ridiculous.
"I was," Kurt confirmed.
"So, some of those pictures you took of your injuries," he paused to indicate that the pictures should be shown, "could have come from your bullies, correct?"
"Those pictures were all taken immediately after I was beaten," Kurt replied exactly as Patrice had trained him: answer the question completely but vaguely.
"Beaten by whom?"
"My stepmother, Veronica," Kurt said, pointing to her and finally looking at her.
Her bottle blond hair was showing roots. She was dressed primly: a light gray suit with a bluish tint and a white frilly blouse. He knew it was meant to make her look innocent. She looked like she had remorse in her eyes, but when they met Kurt's they were pure venom. He looked back at the attorney quickly.
"I understand your father's death was very taxing for you, was it not?" he asked. Patrice stood.
"Objection: irrelevant," he called.
"Sustained," the judge agreed.
"Apologies, your honor. I was merely implying that Kurt's mental health might have been damaged during such a traumatizing event."
"Objection: speculation," Patrice thundered.
"Sustained, get to the point," the judge snapped. The attorney nodded.
"I have a psychological examiner here today who claims that at Kurt's age, a death of a parent could lead to violent hallucinations or memory alterations."
"Have you further questions for the witness?" the judge asked petulantly.
"No, sir."
"Mr. Hummel, you may step down," the judge said. Kurt nodded and hurried back next to Patrice.
"We've got this in the bag, Kurt. That lawyer made a complete fool of himself and the jury will be hard pressed to believe him now. You did spectacularly," he whispered. Kurt felt Sebastian touch the tips of his fingers. He reached a hand back surreptitiously and tangled their fingers together.
The attorney called the psychologist to the stand. He took the oath and sat down.
"Mr. Pollard, in your professional opinion, could Mr. Hummel be altering his own memories so my client appears to be the one beating him?" the attorney asked.
"I believe in a case like this it is very possible. Especially if there was any animosity between the two or he saw her as a threat," the psychologist, Mr. Pollard, answered sincerely.
"So, those bruises and cuts could have come from his school bullies?"
"Yes. He may have been simply replacing their faces with his stepmother's."
"Is this disorder seen in many cases of paternal or maternal deaths?"
"At young ages, yes."
"No further questions."
"Prosecution, your witness," the judge said. Patrice stood.
"If I may, Mr. Pollard, is it?" He waited for the nod of confirmation. "If I may, then, at which university did you receive your degree?"
"Objection: irrelevant," the defense lawyer stated. The judge stared him down, before turning to Patrice.
"I'll allow it," he said, clearly skeptical himself.
"I have a bachelor's in psychology from University of New Hampshire and a doctorate's in child psychology from Tufts University," he replied.
"And at what age are cases of this memory alteration most common?"
"Between five and eleven years old."
"But my client was fifteen when his father died."
"Well, it can occur in older children as well, especially if their minds are already unstable."
"And what about Kurt Hummel makes you think his mind his unstable?"
"Well, he is a young homosexual male growing up in a very conservative town."
"So you're saying my client is of weak mental constitution because he is gay?" Patrice interrupted.
"Of course not, that is ridiculous. I haven't had a chance to examine Kurt myself."
"So, really, you have no proof that he has this condition?"
"Well no-"
"No further questions, your honor," Patrice said shortly, cutting him off once more. He sat next to Kurt again. The judge looked at the defense.
"The defense rests," the lawyer muttered.
"Court will take a ten minute recess before the next witnesses are called," the judge said. He snapped his gavel down and left the room.
"You're doing great, Kurt," Patrice assured him as they left the room. Sebastian tangled their fingers together more tightly and pressed a kiss to Kurt's temple.
"Kurt!" A female voice cut through the air. Kurt stiffened.
"Rachel? What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I was watching the news with my dads the other night and we saw all about what was happening to you," she cried, breaking down into overdramatic tears.
"Why are you here?" Kurt asked again.
"I came down to give you my support," she said, "I know how trying it must be for you."
"No, Rachel, you really don't," he snapped. "You've never had to go through this. I can't stop you from sitting in on the proceedings, but stop lying to me. You're here to try to get your fifteen seconds of fame by claiming to be my best friend. Go ahead, use my pain as your jump start. I don't care anymore."
"Kurt, I-" she began, but he turned away. He heard her footsteps retreat.
"That was super hot," Sebastian said. Kurt cracked a small smile.
"I'd have to agree, Porcelain," came another, slightly more welcome as of late, female voice. Santana strolled up to them, looking completely at ease. "The way you just bitched out Man Hands, pretty sexy."
"Santana?" Kurt asked in confusion.
"Rachel texted all of us. We're here for you, Kurt," Mercedes said. He stepped away from Sebastian to fold into Mercedes' wonderful embrace.
"All of you?" he asked.
"Yup, every last one of us. You think I'd come down to some trial and risk permanent expulsion from Cheerios for anyone but my sweet Porcelain?" Santana demanded. Kurt bit back a smile. Since his stint on the Cheerios, he and Santana had formed an unconventional friendship. She grinned back, baring her teeth like razors. "We brought some friends, too." Kurt looked over her shoulders to where the rest of his glee club and the Warblers were approaching. He felt his eyes get a little misty.
Blaine wrapped him in a hug immediately, pecking his cheek as he pulled away. Jeff and Nick claimed him next from either side. Even Wes and David were there; once a Warbler, always a Warbler. They shared a bitter sweet reunion as the other boys greeted Sebastian. Patrice tapped Kurt on the shoulder.
"It's time," he said. Kurt nodded and thanked his friends again for coming. Sebastian wrapped an arm safely around Kurt's shoulders and they made their way back into the court room.
"Sebastian Smythe how long had you and Mr. Hummel been talking online?" Patrice asked his son.
"About eight months," he replied.
"And did you two ever discuss his home life?"
"We did."
"What did you talk about?"
"He told me about the abuse. I urged him to take pictures."
"Why did you do that?"
"Because I had connections to a good lawyer and I was hoping, one day, Kurt could sue for domestic violence."
"So you were collecting evidence?"
"Yes."
"Did he show you these pictures or describe particular incidences to you?"
"He did not show me the pictures, but there was one very outstanding incident he mentioned."
"And what was that?"
"He explained that he had accidentally dropped a china plate and his stepmother had pushed his hand into. He had shards of the plate in his hand."
"Now, for a long time, neither of you realized who you were talking to, correct?"
"That's correct," Sebastian answered quickly, not giving the defense lawyer time to object.
"But after this incident, you figured out it was Kurt."
"Yes."
"How did you come to this conclusion?"
"I saw him at a coffee shop we both frequent. He had his hand bandaged. Sometime during our encounter, he went to the bathroom and I followed. I saw him pull a small sliver of porcelain out of his bandaged hand and I put the pieces together. No pun intended," he added, giving a wry, but charming, smile to the jury. They murmured in amusement before remembering the situation.
"Are there records of these conversations?"
"Yes. There is a link to view your chat history. I printed out the pages."
"And there is no possible way to alter these documents?" Patrice asked, covering all the bases.
"No, sir. Once the message is sent it is saved to a server and cannot be altered or deleted." The online conversations were being shown.
"Thank you, no further questions," Patrice said.
"Mr. Smythe, what drove you to follow Kurt into the bathroom at the coffee shop?" the defense lawyer asked. Kurt heard Patrice give a small snort next to him; he was clearly fishing.
"I had to pee," Sebastian deadpanned. Kurt bit back his smile, but heard a few of the Warblers or New Directions snigger.
"What made you conclude that it was Kurt you had been talking to?"
"I saw him pull the sliver of china from his hand the day immediately after my online friend told me his stepmother caused him to get china stuck in his hand," Sebastian repeated, boredly.
"So, in your mind, this china could have come from only one place?"
"I don't believe in coincidence."
"Do you know how many china plates are manufactured daily, Mr. Smythe?" Sebastian waited for his father.
"Objection: irrelevant. And, question previously answered," Patrice said.
"Sustained."
"No further questions," the defense said meekly. Veronica looked thunderous when he sat back down.
"You may step down," the judge told Sebastian. He stood and removed himself from the stand, touching Kurt's shoulder as he passed.
"Defense, your witness," the judge called.
"Your honor, we have no further witnesses."
"Prosecution?"
"No, sir," Patrice said.
"Court dismissed," the judge said simply, slamming his gavel again, "Mr. Smythe, Mr. Corfelow, my office."
Patrice escorted Kurt out. "Don't you worry about a thing, Kurt, everything is working our favor. Even if the defense continues into tomorrow, we will win this."
"Thank you," Kurt whispered. Patrice smiled at him warmly.
"You're welcome."
Kurt felt someone touch his arm and he turned to find Quinn at his elbow. "I was right," she said.
"You already knew that," Kurt muttered. She hugged him.
"I'm glad I wasn't the only one," she said. He smiled at her. "Are you in love with him?" she whispered, looking over to where Sebastian was begin chewed out by the rest of New Directions.
"I am," he murmured back, looking at Sebastian with shining eyes. Sebastian felt Kurt's gaze and met it, giving him that same smile he'd given him after their first night.
"Good. Because he's madly in love with you, too," she said. Kurt's smile widened.
"I know."
A/N: Whew, had to end that on a happy note.