A/N: I'm sorry for the rather abrupt ending to this one, but the chapter was already 22 pages (usually they're between 12-16) and had no end in sight. So I had to split it into two parts.

A Lawyer is one Skilled in the Circumvention of the Law

- Ambrose Beirce

Kurt POV

Finn has always looked older then me. It's not a hard thing to do, considering I overheard Ms. Pilsbury say one time that I looked like an 11 year old girl. Finn matured early, shooting up until he towered over not only me but most of the school. His face thinned and lost its baby look, and I'm pretty sure he would have no trouble growing a full beard if he needed to. I had overheard Puck comment on more the one occasion that he would stake money that Finn wouldn't get carded at the liquor store.

But right now, he looked heartbreakingly young. He also looked absolutely terrified. But why shouldn't he be? Any sentence out of his mouth could be the one that blew this entire trial for us. Things had changed so rapidly this past year that it was hard to remember that he was only 17 years old. He couldn't vote. He couldn't drink. He couldn't join the armed forces or rent a car. In the eyes of society, and in the eyes of the law, he was still a child.

Yet he was being asked to carry the burden of this trial, and not flinch away. It was an adult's responsibility, being placed on the shoulders of a kid. Even though he looked like a man, the eyes staring at us were those of a traumatized child. I just hoped that the jury could see what I did.

"How had things gone for you that day? Start with school."

"Umm…." Finn had to think about it. "I guess it went ok. I had Glee club, which is like my favorite thing ever. It sounds stupid, but it isn't in real life. I did KISS with the guys."

"Did 'the guys' include Kurt?"

"No. He wanted to do Lady Gaga with the girls. They sang 'Bad Romance' and they did an awesome job. Seriously, they all looked like professionals up there."

It melted my heart a little that Finn had noticed that. "Like I said, the guys and I did KISS, and I think we were good, too."

"You said that some of the other boys at school were picking on you. Were they doing it that day, too?"

Finn nodded slowly. "Yeah. I don't really remember exactly what they said, but I'm sure it was mean, and I'm sure they were calling me gay."

"Whose idea was it for you and Noah to go out that night?" He was jumping around, trying to keep Finn off balance.

Fortunately, Finn wasn't confused at all. "His. My mom had a date with Burt, and she doesn't usually let me go out when she's not home. But I begged her and kind of threw a little tantrum, and she told me that I could go as long as I was home by a certain time and it was just me and Puck."

"Now, you've already told us that you first went by the bowling alley that night. According to Mr. Flannery, the owner, that was about 7:30 in the evening. Does that sound right to you?"

"Mmm-hmmm. That sounds about right." Finn nodded.

"So you would agree that he was the last person to see Puck alive other then yourself."

Finn didn't fall into that trap. "No. The last people to see Puck alive were Lily and Joseph."

Instead of asking for clarification, he moved on, swinging wildly. "Finn, do you know how to shoot a gun?"

"Not a real one." His eyes met mine, pleading for reassurance. I wondered if he was remembering what it had looked like after Puck was shot. He had been mercifully light on the details both times he gave the story, but it had to have been one of, if the not the most, traumatizing parts of what had happened. He breathed out slowly, trying to regain his focus.

"What do you mean by that?" Again, he was leading Finn to say what he wanted, but there was no way out of it.

"Like, I mean, I've played video games where I shot a gun, but I've never even touched one in real life."

"Finn, are you aware that studies have shown that many murderers learn shooting skills on video games? Up to 95% of children who commit murder were known to be playing adult rated first person shooter games."

No, Finn didn't know that, and it didn't matter that he knew it now. What mattered was that the jury knew it. No doubt those were skewed statistics, but if he wanted to paint Finn as a cold blooded killer, he was certainly headed in the right direction.

"No, I didn't know that." Finn's voice was quiet and wounded. He, too, knew where this was going.

"Are there firearms in your house?"

"Yeah. Burt has a gun for hunting, and I think that's it. He keeps it locked in a special cabinet."

"And he wouldn't tell you where the key was?"

"I didn't ask. I don't care about the gun, and I never want to go hunting, so why should I have the key?" Finn looked towards me again, stress written on every part of his body. "I just know it was there because he told me to never touch it, and I would be in trouble if I did. He didn't want there to be any accidents with it."

"The truth was, Finn, that you were still very angry with Puck for stealing your girlfriend and getting her pregnant, weren't you?"

"Uh-uh. I mean, yeah I still was kind of mad about what he did, and it was a really douchy move, but I didn't hate him. Mostly I was just kind of sad."

"See, Finn, that's not what I've been told about you. I've been told that you had repeatedly rebuffed his offers to make up with you."

Finn shrugged. "Well, then someone told you wrong. We weren't 100% made up, but things were better. She was going to give the baby up for adoption, which helped. We could both just kind of forget that the baby existed at all."

"I don't think that that's the truth. I think that you were still angry over the betrayal, and that you invited Noah out that night knowing full well that he wasn't going to be coming back. It's not hard for someone who's determined to find a firearm to do so. No one expected you to be back for several hours, which was plenty of time to get a head start. You lured Noah out where he wouldn't be able to get help, and then you shot him in the head. Once that was done, you walked out to the main road and flagged my clients down, then hitchhiked right out of the state. This was premeditated murder, but not on the part of my clients."

Finn knew that this was a tactic the defense might try. We had talked about it, and prepared for it, and told him over and over that no one would believe it, and that we all knew the truth. Most importantly, Puck knew the truth, and that Finn would never hurt him. So none of this was a surprise to him.

But nothing we had done had come even close to preparing him for hearing the words spoken out loud. Tears welled up in his eyes as he shook his head rapidly. "No. That isn't what happened."

"No? But why not? You had already assaulted him, and threatened to kill him once. Why should we believe that you wouldn't follow through with that threat?"

"Because he was my best friend. What he did sucked, but I'm not going to kill anyone over Quinn Fabray. She's not that awesome." His voice had taken on an edge that told me he could be very easily pushed into hysterics right now. If that happened, it would be all over. The jury would see him as unstable and unpredictable, and the chances of anyone believing him would go right out the window. I tried to catch his eye, but he was locked in place, staring at anyone but me.

"It wasn't a very well thought out plan, but pretty typical for a male teenage killer. An impulsive murder, no attempt to conceal the body, and fleeing town without any money or plan in mind. Nothing about this screams professional job.

Again, he was trying to make it sound like Joseph and Lily couldn't have possibly done it. Would two people who had done this many times before (the jury was supposed to disregard anything about the tapes that had been found, but, come on. Everyone knew that there had been others, and new potential victims were still being identified. I can't see how anyone could pretend that they had never heard that) be so careless as to kill someone in such a sloppy way? They were supposedly professionals, smooth operators.

If either Finn or Puck had been alone that night, there would have been no death, and things would have gone exactly as they had for the other victims. But the minute two boys appeared instead of one, the plan flew out the window, and things got bad fast. So, yeah, I could see how two people who had done this before could be thrown off by a deviation of the normal script.

Abruptly, Finn pulled himself together and gave the man a level stare. "So, was the murder premeditated or impulsive? Because you just accused me of doing it both ways. Either I'm a cold hearted killer or a stupid teenage boy whose temper got the best of him. I can't be both, and I'm telling you right now that I'm not either one of those things."

Good job, Finn. I had never been as proud of him as I was right then. He hadn't freaked out, hadn't screamed, hadn't done anything but quietly point out what was wrong with the arguments presented.

But the lawyer hadn't gotten where he was by being easily thrown of course. "It's not possible for any one person to know what happens in another's mind. All I'm attempting to do is present alternate scenarios for what might have happened that night."

"But you're lying." It was less an accusation, and more a plea. Finn was starting to fall apart up there, and it was way too soon for this to happen. "There are a billion things that could have happened, but the only thing that actually did was they killed my best friend."

"Objection!"

As much as I hated that word, it was going to be a lifesaver. Finn knew that if an objection was called, he was to look at his lawyer first, and then his family. Last of all, he should look at the judge and wait for his decision. At all times, his mouth should be firmly shut. To my relief, he did exactly what I had hoped for. When his eyes found mine, I signed 'slowly' at him. It was a gesture that was easy to make and not too obvious. He nodded.

The judge pointed his gavel at Finn. "Mr. Hudson, one does not accuse a lawyer of lying on the stand. Just stick to the facts of what happened."

"Ok, sorry." He turned his focus back to what he was doing. "I don't remember what the question was. Could you repeat it please?"

"I think that we should both move on. Whether or not you did it, I think we can both agree that Noah Puckerman ended up shot in the head that night. How tall are you, Finn?"

What a strange question. Finn's bafflement was clear as he softly answered. "6'3. And a half."

"How much do you weigh?"

"245, 250. Something like that. I don't weigh myself very often."

"Big guy." He waited until Finn nodded, looking more confused then ever. "How big would you say Joseph is?"

"Average, I guess. He's shorter then me, and probably weighs a little less. He's stocky."

"And Lily?"

I was starting to see where he was going with this, but I could tell that Finn still didn't. "Small. She's bigger then Quinn or Rachel, but they're both super tiny." His hand rose and fell, as if he were mentally measuring her. "5'4, maybe."

"And, according to you, Joseph stayed in the car, behind the wheel, at all times, correct?"

"Yes."

"So explain to me again how a 5'4 woman in her 30's was able to overpower a 250 pound teenager who is well over six feet tall?" Again, the trap was sprung with shocking accuracy.

Finn was getting used to it, though, and he didn't react as much. "I told you, she had the Taster."

"Right, right. The Tasar. You know, Finn, the Tasar found at the Wright's house didn't have any batteries in it." He waited, but Finn didn't say anything. He just stared with a blank expression. "You do realize that there is no way to tell when the last time a Tasar was discharged, right?"

That was an actual question, so Finn responded. "No. I don't know anything about them, really, except they hurt a lot when you get zapped with one."

"And you say that she used it on the side of your neck?"

"Uh-huh, right here." He pointed at the scars, seeming to forget that no one was close enough to actually see them.

"How many times were you shocked?"

"Once on the neck then, and then twice on the stomach when they were bringing me home." He was completely sure of himself.

"Did the Tasar also leave scars on your stomach?"

"No. There aren't any marks there." Finn's was nervous now, not having any idea where this was going.

The reason there were no scars on his stomach was that the skin was thicker there, and the fat everyone carries there offered some protection from the burns. On his neck, she had hit very thin skin and muscle, which left marks. Simple explanation that the jury was never going to hear.

"Finn, I want you to look at the same picture the prosecution showed earlier. Can you tell me what you see?" He tapped on his laptop, and the picture was put on a large screen for everyone to see.

"Um, that's my neck, and the circled part is the marks the Tasar left." He was still confused and unsure if he was saying the right thing.

"Now I want you to look at another view of the same picture." He pulled a second picture up, this one with more areas circled then the first. "The green circle is the same, and surrounding the marks supposedly left by the Tasar, 1 ¼ inches apart. The three yellow circles are also marks 1 ¼ inches apart. But you claim you were only Tasared one time in the neck. How do you explain that?"

My breath caught, but Finn didn't flinch. "Yeah. Those are freckles." His tone was slightly mocking. "And anyway, they don't look anything like the other ones close up."

And just like that, the balance of power shifted. It was obvious to me, but, more importantly, it was obvious to Finn. Anything that made him feel like he had the power was going to benefit us all in the long run. The lawyer sensed it as well, but nothing in his face betrayed it. He was going to get out of this one, even if he had to bluff it. "Really? Because they were measured quite accurately."

"Yeah, but-"He started to stand up and then sat back down. "Am I allowed to get up and show you? Or do I have to stay sitting?"

Of course that necessitated a brief sidebar and conversation with the judge while tension built. Finn met my eyes again, and I gave him a smile. He didn't smile back. In fact, his eyes had a blank look that reminded me of the way he had looked sitting there on my front porch back in July. A look that was broken and three steps beyond exhaustion. Win or lose today, the fallout at home was going to be terrible.

In the end, Finn was allowed to step off the stand and walk over to the laptop. Interestingly, I noticed that Mr. Samuels deliberately stepped back to keep himself out of Finn's reach. Was it for show, or did he really believe that Finn might be violent?

Maybe he's just afraid that Finn will see a chance to punch his lights out for all of the lies he's telling.

I've never thought of myself as a vicious person, but I wouldn't mind seeing that. But I knew that Finn would never do it. He might lash out in anger, but never with the cold calculation that this would require. He also knew that doing so would destroy any credibility he might have. Or maybe the thought had never occurred to him at all.

The mouse pointer jiggled a tiny bit when Finn moved it, letting everyone see how his hands were shaking, but his voice was firm. "Ok, um, so the green circle is the scar from the Tasar, right here." He pointed. "See how it has one bigger dot and one littler dot? That's because the Tasar had one big…uh….." He made a helpless gesture with his hands as he groped for the word. "Stick thing, and one little stick thing. So they left different sized burns." He moved the pointer again. "None of those other ones have the big burn and the little burn."

"I see." He gestured back at the stand. "You can have a seat now, Finn."

I was proud of Finn. He had presented himself clearly and without getting angry. He was believable. Furthermore, he was obviously struggling to with his emotions, which would look good to the jury.

Once he had climbed back up to the stand and was ready again, the questions continued. "Tell me what happened when you were in the car."

"I passed out."

"Passed out or fell asleep, Finn?" He was pressing harder now, determined to make up for lost ground.

"Passed out. I tried not to but I couldn't help it." He didn't sound as sure as he had when he told the story before, and I hoped that no one else picked up on it.

"And you were in the garage at their house when you woke up?"

"No. I never said that. When I woke up, we were still in the car." Finn looked about nervously, but didn't make eye contact.

"Right, you were in the car. Still a long way from their house, right? After all, we know it takes a long time to get cross country."

Finn nodded. 'Yeah. We didn't get there until the next day."

"That's right. So you were in the car with them for approximately 18 hours, would you say? Does that sound right?"

"Uh-uh. It was that day, and all night, and part of the next day, too. More like 30 hours."

"And how many stops would you say the three of you made in that thirty hours? Just and estimate. 10? 15? Think about food, gas, bathroom breaks."

"10 sounds right." His voice was very soft. "We only stopped a few times and I never got out of the car."

"10 times. 10 gas stations, 10 drive thrus. How many people do you think were at those places?"

Finn and I both flinched. This was the weak point in his testimony, and we all knew it. But he had to soldier on and do his best. "Um…a bunch. I'm not really sure; I wasn't allowed to look at them. I had to keep looking at the floor mats in the car. Joseph said to."

"And where was Joseph at this time? Was he still driving?"

"Yeah. He drove the whole time."

"And Lily…where was she?"

"Passenger seat."

"So, if I understand this correctly, you were alone in the backseat while they stayed in the front?" He didn't wait for Finn to answer before he plowed on. "So if you were so afraid of them, why didn't you jump out of the car as soon as they stopped?"

"I couldn't open the door. The baby locks were on. And Lily was leaning over the seat with the Tasar. She pulled the trigger a couple of times so I could see the lightening jump and so I would know that she meant business. I didn't want her to shock me again."

I noticed that when he spoke, he raised his hand to touch his neck where the Tasar had hit it. He didn't seem to realize what he was doing, but, when I looked over; the jury was watching his every move. Did that mean that they believed him?

"What about kicking out a window on the car? Or calling to someone? Anything except just sitting there."

"I panicked." His voice had become so soft that I had trouble hearing it, even with the microphone. "I just kept thinking that this wasn't real, and that it would all be a joke. I thought…." This time his voice caught, and he had to clear his throat a few times before he could continue. "I just kept thinking that we had to be driving in circles, and we would stop at a gas station that I knew eventually, and Puck would pop out laughing. I would be mad, because the Tasar really hurt, but I would forgive him because I always did. I should have fought back, but I just couldn't. I was scared."

"I would think that you would do anything to get yourself out of that situation. Scream, kick, fight. Anything."

It wasn't a question, but Finn responded anyway. "Yeah. I would have thought I would do those things, too."

The silence that followed that statement was so oppressive that I felt my shoulders hunch. Every person in the courtroom had to be wondering the exact same thing that I was. What would I do in that same situation? What would anyone do?

As much as we all wanted to think that we would have fought back and gotten free, chances were that we wouldn't have. If it had been me, I probably would have done the exact same thing Finn had: freeze and pray that it would be over soon. I hadn't fought back against the hockey team, so how could I think that I would fight back against strangers who not only had a gun, but had proven themselves willing to use it? I hoped that the jury was taking all of that into the consideration.

Finn didn't try to defend himself further, which was the right move. His obvious misery made his point better then words could have. I ached to rush to him and fix this, but I couldn't. He was on his own up there.

"Tell me again what happened when you got to the house. After the stops at the gas stations, the stops for food, the stops for bathroom breaks. After you crossed close to a dozen states. After two days of crossing the paths of dozens, if not hundreds, of people, none of whom you asked to help you."

He was laying it on pretty thick, but that was his job. He didn't have to prove that Finn had been there voluntarily. He didn't even have to make them all believe it. All it took was reasonable doubt in the mind of one juror, and we had lost the trial. And if we lost this trial, there was zero hope for the next one.

"Which part? Because I've told this story already." Finn was getting tired and confused at the worst possible time.

"Tell everyone about what happened after you went inside the house."

How kind of him to skip that part where Finn was left in first a sweltering then a freezing garage for hours on end. There really wasn't any way for him to spin that in a way that made it look like anything other then torture.

"He set the alarm behind me and-"

Mr. Samuels cut him off. "He set the alarm? Are we talking about a house alarm?"

"Yeah. With a code, but he didn't let me see what it was."

"Finn, do you know how a house alarm works?" His tone was pleasant and bland, just like when Mr. Shue taught.

"If you open a door or window when the alarm is on, it goes off and everyone knows what you're doing." Finn fiddled with the handkerchief I had given him this morning.

"Mmm-hmmm. Do you know that the alarm going off also contacts the alarm company and the local police department? If you had set it off, you could have gotten help for yourself much sooner."

"That's not true." Finn shook his head. "If you set the alarm off, you have 30 seconds to shut it off before it does anything. Then the alarm company calls you and you have to give them a password. If you don't pick up the phone or you don't know the right word, then they sent the police. So even if I set it off, Joseph could have stopped things before the police came. Then he would have…." He trailed off.

Wisely, Mr. Samuels chose not to pursue the matter. "You seem very knowledgeable about house alarms."

"My stepdad has one on our house now. Well, he's not really my stepdad, I guess, but, yeah. He showed me how it worked."

"So this was something that you've learned since being home, not something you knew at the time?"

Finn nodded again, looking distinctly queasy. "Yeah."

"But you still didn't try the doors or windows. Frankly, Finn, it doesn't sound to me like you tried to get away at all."

"I didn't." Even though his voice was still soft, it felt like it was booming across the courtroom. "There were about a million things I could have done and I didn't do any of them. I asked them to let me go. I begged them to let me go. But, you're right, I didn't fight back physically. That was my only chance to do it, and I couldn't make myself."

Again, Mr. Samuels chose not to push things. By his own admission, Finn hadn't tried very hard to get away from the Wrights. He hadn't even attempted to fight back physically, even though he was bigger, stronger, and supposedly terrified of the people who had murdered his best friend and stolen him. If you went by his words, he had just made the defense's case for them.

But there was more to making a case then just the words being said. Finn's very soul was being laid bare, his trauma clear to anyone with a heart. The shadows that had appeared under his eyes and grown darker over the course of day combined with his slumped shoulders and the nervous way he toyed with the handkerchief I had folded for him. Little tics started to show. He rubbed his eyes and licked his lips, blinking hard as he tried to center himself.

Only once did he look over at Joseph, and the fear in his eyes was broadcast across the courtroom. Even now, with Joseph in chains and with armed guards at the door, Finn didn't trust that he was safe. Maybe he would never fully feel safe again.

The two things were at war with each other, and I had no idea which side would win. This man was skilled, and Finn still just a teenager. He didn't have the maturity or mental strength to do battle against a trained professional.

But he was trying. He was answering each question and veiled accusation honestly, and as strongly as he could. It was a hard battle, and it wasn't over yet, but I was proud of how he fought.

"Keep going, Finn. After the alarm was set, where did Joseph take you?"

"He made me walk in front of him, and he kept touching my back with either the Tasar or the gun. I'm not sure which one it was. He wasn't, like, jabbing me or anything, but he was making sure that I knew it was there."

"Could what you felt have been his hand, Finn? I'm thinking that someone touching another person with just his fingertips to nudge and guide could feel like a gun or the nodes of a Tasar. You must have been very tired at that point."

Finn didn't budge. "No. I know what someone's hand feels like and what something metal feels like. This was metal."

"And he took you to a spare bedroom to get some rest?"

Again, the spin on what had happened was reaching, and it had to be obvious to anyone listening. "No. He took me to a closet and locked me in. Having a bare mattress on the floor doesn't make it a bedroom."

"We're talking about a very small house here, Finn. Maybe that tiny bedroom was all the extra space they had."

"Probably, but so what? I didn't ask to be there. If they had left me at home where I belonged, they wouldn't have had to worry about it. Plus, you don't lock someone in their bedroom, even if it's all you have."

"Are you sure the door was locked? I've seen video taken in the house, and the doorknob seems to move in an odd way, and be sticky to boot. Maybe you were just turning it the wrong way."

Finn shot him a look. "Are you saying that I'm too stupid to figure out how to open a door? Because I promise that I'm not."

"We'll just agree to disagree on that point. That the door couldn't have possibly been stuck, I mean, not about your intelligence." He managed to pull off the comment without sounding snide.

"How can you have an opinion? You weren't there. You haven't even seen the place in real life." He was getting frustrated and I mentally begged him to calm down. Please, Finn. Please. This is riding on you now.

"I don't have to have been there. All my job is is to offer a different point of view on what happened. Remember, there are two sides to every story."

There were more sides then that. The basic facts never changed of what happened never changed. Puck was dead from a gunshot to the head. Finn had been at the Wrights house for four months following Puck's murder, and now he was home. No one was disputing that.

Who had shot Puck, and how Finn had come to be with the Wrights was what was under debate and what this trial was about. One side, Finn's side, was right, and the opposing side was wrong. There was absolutely zero room for debate. Either Joseph had hot Puck, or Finn had. Either Finn had gone with the Wrights willingly, or he hadn't. Yes or no, two choices.

But there were other, more subtle things that had happened. Finn claimed that Lily had threatened him with the Tasar at rest stops. Had she really? Or had he just frozen, and the Tasar story was a lie to make himself feel better about the fact that he could have fought back then and hadn't?

Why Finn hadn't attempted to overpower Joseph at any point? He was bigger, stronger. He was used to slamming people on the football field. He knew how to hit with the least damage to himself. But by all accounts he hadn't tried. Why?

Even after he came home, he hadn't told us Joseph or Lily's names, or where they lived. He didn't describe their car. He didn't do anything.

Finn hadn't done a lot of things that he could have to help himself, but those things didn't matter. As long as he held himself together, there was no way we could lose.

"Yeah, a true side and a lying side."

The judge jumped in and ordered his last remark stricken from the record. "Finn, please just stick to the facts."

"I'm trying." He looked down at the table and took a few deep breaths. "Ok, sorry. What did you ask me?"

"I didn't. But let's move on. How long do you think you were in that room?"

"Overnight. Joseph came and unlocked the door the next morning." Finn ran his fingers back and forth on the stand in front of him, a sure sign that he was nervous.

"So, would 10 or 11 hours be a fair guess? Pretty much a normal night's sleep."

"I guess. It was dark when he put me in there and light when he took me out. Not afternoon light, and not first thing in the morning light. He asked if he could come in and talk to me, and I said sure. I didn't want him to, but I didn't want to make him mad either."

Mr. Samuels smiled gently. "Well, how was he supposed to know that? If you don't tell him that you want to be left alone, he can't know. He's not a mind reader."

"I don't know." The lawyer had him on the run now, and his uncertainty could ruin this trial for us.

"What did he say to you when he came in?"

"He asked if I had slept ok, and why I didn't have sheets or a pillow or anything. He acted really surprised when I told him that there hadn't been anything. He went and got me some breakfast, but he locked the door after him. That was it for a few days. He would feed me and stuff, but he didn't talk to me."

"So you were getting three meals a day?"

"I don't know. He would say it was breakfast a couple of meals in a row, or give me lunch when it was dark out. But he didn't starve me if that's what you're asking."

"It was. Tell the jury what else he gave you in the first few days. He did other things to make you more comfortable, right?"

Finn gave a weak nod. "He brought me a nightlight so I wouldn't be in the dark any more. The light switch for the closet was on the outside of the door, so before I was either in the dark and I couldn't see, or the light all of the time and I couldn't sleep. Ummm…he did bring blankets and a pillow. He brought a book for me to read, too."

"So what I'm hearing is that you had light, you had warmth, and you even had entertainment. I would hardly describe those conditions as a 'torture chamber.'"

"I never said it was a torture chamber. Who said that? I just said that it was really small and I was locked in." He rubbed his neck again.

Mr. Samuels skipped over that. "So you said that this went on for several days, but you don't know how many. You seem to be fuzzy on a lot of details, Finn."

"No one gave me a clock or calendar." Finn managed to not sound sarcastic when he said it. "I'm doing the best I can."

A good defense lawyer doesn't back down when he knows his witness is faltering. "So when you say that you're doing the best you can, you're admitting that your memory may not be entirely accurate. If even you realize that you might not be giving an accurate portrayal of what happened, how can you possibly expect that someone will convict my clients on your say-so?"

For a brief second Finn froze. His eyes went wide and panicky, and his breathing quickened. Nervously, he looked around, but his eyes swept over mine without any recognition. Whatever he wanted to see, his family wasn't it. He gave his lips a quick lick. "I know what happened. It doesn't matter if I was in there for three days, or five days, or ten days. I was locked in there, and I ate in there, and slept in there, and had to use the bucket as a toilet. That's what makes it a crime, not how long it went on. Right?"

My jaw unclenched. I had to let go and trust Finn, and know that he could do this. But I couldn't. Finn had slipped out of this trap, but who knew how many there were, just waiting to trip him up? I trusted Finn, but I didn't trust this man, who was willing to put two killers back on the street.

"You are both correct and incorrect. While a crime was committed, according to you, the amount of time you spent there is not inconsequential. We're talking about a number of charges here, and knowing when the various alleged offenses occurred is quite important. It would be unfair to charge someone with 10 counts of something when you have no idea if it was that many, wouldn't it be?"

"Yes. But there isn't more then 1 charge here. The charge is kidnapping in the first degree and unlawful imprisonment. Just one of each. I know what the charges are."

Good for him. I had obsessively studied and researched every little thing that the Wrights had been charged with, and gone over everything that Finn had said, trying to match the counts to exactly what had happened. I don't know why, except it seemed important to know. Even though he was frequently unsure of exact dates, he had to have some idea of where the charges were coming form. That sort of trauma isn't something you forget.

It also wasn't something that he cared to relive, and he had been spectacularly unhelpful. And by 'unhelpful', I actually meant 'retreated into bed and refused to get up or look directly at me until I promised to quit talking about it.' Point taken.

"We're all aware of the charges, Finn. Tell everyone what happened when you were allowed to be loose."

"Joseph came and got me. He let me get a soda from the fridge, and then he took me in the living room."

"Was Lily present?"

"Yeah. It was the first time I had seen her since we got there." He nodded as he spoke, as if he was confirming with himself that, yes, this had really happened.

"Tell everyone what she said to you."

"She said 'hi, Finn, do you want to watch some TV?'."

"She knew your name?"

"Yeah." He nodded again, looking down. It made him look unsure and confused, which made him look like a liar as well. "She knew my name."

"Tell me what it was like to see your family on the television, knowing that they had no idea where you were or that you were safe."

By suddenly jumping forward in time, he broke the rhythm of their exchange. It was another trap, and this time Finn stumbled into it. "Miserable. Mom was crying, and so was Kurt. Burt wasn't crying, but he was sad too."

"Why do you think they were crying and upset, Finn?"

"Because I wasn't there. They didn't even know if I was alive or dead. They missed me and wanted me to come home." Even at this distance, I could see the sheen of tears in his eyes.

"So they missed you, even though you admitted that you were previously feeling unloved and unwanted by them?" The voice was the cooing song of a cobra hypnotizing its prey.

"Yeah. I mean, I always knew that Mom loved me. I just…." He shrugged helplessly. "I just thought she loved Burt more for a little while."

"That's a normal feeling. You know, Finn, I'm going to tell you what I think happened. I don't think that you intended for this to go bad. I think that you and Puck went out with every intention of going bowling and coming home. Isn't that right?"

Finn knew that he was in trouble, but he couldn't disagree. "Yeah. I had to be home to watch a movie with Kurt." He glanced over at me and tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace.

"Ok. So, you and Puck went out. You were angry, and you were feeling a little neglected. At some point, you parted ways with Puck-" He saw Finn start to object and held up a hand. "How the two of you parted ways doesn't matter. "As you pointed out earlier, I wasn't there, so I can't tell you how it occurred. I'm not even saying you did something to Puck. Maybe he dropped you off, but you weren't quite ready to go home. It's understandable. So you decided you would play a little trick on everyone. You walked out to the highway and stuck out your thumb. It's easy; lots of people do it every day. After you were gone a few days, maybe your family would appreciate you more."

As painful as those words were to hear, I couldn't quite deny their plausibility. Not to anyone who knew Finn, of course, but that was kind of the point. None of the jurors knew Finn. To them, who he was was nothing more then an amalgam of the traits presented by each side. I could remember the police, who were trained to discover crime, making the same assumption as the beginning of the case.

Finn shook his head weakly, but I could tell that even he knew that he was sinking. The lawyer knew it, too, and plowed on. "So, you figure a few days with some new adults, ones that actually paid attention to you and liked having you around, might make your parents a little more grateful for you. You certainly intended to go home very shortly." His voice slowed down as he skillfully wove the story.

"So you spend a day or two with the Wrights at their house. Then you see your family on TV, begging you to come home. Suddenly, it wasn't fun or a game. You're a nice guy; you never meant to make them suffer like that. But if you came home right then, you would have to admit that you had basically run off on a whim. You would have to tell them that you had made them suffer for selfish reasons, and you didn't want to do that. So you just froze and did nothing. Suddenly it had gone on for so long that you felt trapped and you felt like you couldn't just show up back home. So you made up a little story about how you had been taken and held against your will, to justify having been gone for so long. I'm sure you didn't intend for things to get this out of control. But I want you to think about what you're doing here. You're willing to send an innocent man to jail, or even make him face the death penalty, to save a little face. Is that really what you want?"

With just a few sentences, he had managed to nail Finn right in his soft spot. Finn hated making people miserable, and I had sensed his ambivalence about everything that had happened on more then one occasion. No, he hadn't wanted to go with them, but even he had to admit there had been opportunities for him to bolt and he hadn't taken them. He slowly shook his head. "No. I don't want Joseph to go to jail when he didn't do anything wrong. But he did do something wrong, and I want him to go to jail for that. He did a lot of things that were against the law and he should be punished."

It was a good response, but the point had been made. I glanced over at the jury and tried to figure out if they were looking differently at Finn then they had when the prosecution had been questioning him. Every one of them was riveted by him, but I couldn't tell if they were believing him or not.

Just like last time, when Finn had outfoxed him, Mr. Samuels moved on quickly, not giving anyone time to ingest the response. "Let's talk about what happened afterwards, when you had your first sexual encounter with Joseph." He stopped there, letting Finn put the first bit out there.

"He made me." The words came out too fast, nervous and false sounding.

"How? Did he drag you kicking and screaming into the room and force you down? Did he tie you up?"

"No. He didn't do any of that." This time he spoke more slowly, and I felt my shoulders relax a little. Come on, Finn. Come on.

"How did he get you to go upstairs?"

"Just told me to." The words were mumbled into the desk.

"Told or asked?

"Told. He told me to go upstairs with him so I did. Then he told me to take a shower and get clean, so I did that, too. I hadn't had a shower since I got there, and I was really gross. When I came out, he wanted to talk about sex." His face colored and his lip gave a tiny, almost imperceptible quiver.

"Tell me what you talked about."

My anger flared. There was no reason for this, other then to humiliate Finn and cast doubt on what he was saying. After all, Finn was a teenaged boy, and one who was sexually active. Why wouldn't he want to have sex with someone else?

"He asked if I had had sex before, and who I did it with. Then he asked about blow jobs and if I knew how to give one. I didn't, but he told me that I could figure it out. Then he, uh, told me to suck him off. You know what that means, right?"

I couldn't tell if that was a deliberate dig or not. For some reason, Finn seems to think that no one over the age of 18 knows what oral sex is, despite obvious evidence to the contrary. Mr. Samuels scowled. "Yes, Finn, I know what that means. He wanted you to give him oral sex."

"He said I had to do it." Finn was holding the lawyers eyes, suddenly in charge and unafraid again. His changes in demeanor were making me dizzy, and I could only imagine what they were doing to him.

"So you performing oral sex on him was the price you had to pay for staying with them. An exchange, if you like."

Finn nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. But it wasn't an exchange for me living there. He said that if I didn't do it, he would take Kurt and do it to him instead."

No matter how many times I heard Finn say that, it still tore at my insides. Finn didn't blame me and I certainly didn't wish that it had actually come down to me versus him, but I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault. Maybe Finn would have fought harder if the threat of me being injured wasn't dangling over his head.

"He actually said that? He looked you in the face and he told you that he would hurt your brother?"

"Yeah." Then his forehead wrinkled. "Well, not exactly."

No, Finn. I didn't want him to lie on the stand, but that didn't mean that he had to blurt out everything. A little discretion would be nice.

"Not exactly? Finn, what exactly did he say? Because it's important."

"He said….he said…" Finn paused, trying to remember exactly. "He looked at me and he said….um….he said…..he said that he would let me go if I would go back and lure Kurt out to take my place. I said no when he wanted that. So he said that I should want to keep him safe. I knew that he meant blow him."

"But he didn't actually tell you that you had to do anything, did he? You just assumed that was what he was wanted. Am I right? That he never actually said that you had to offer him oral sex. As far as I can tell, he didn't actually tell you that you had to do anything."

"I'm not stupid. When a guy has his dick out of his pants and in your face, and he's telling you to do things to keep someone else safe, it's pretty obvious what he wants."

"That Joseph Wright wanted you sexually has never been in dispute. He fully admits that you're an attractive young man, and that he and Lily were interested in a relationship with you. What we're trying to figure out is if the relationship was consensual or not."

"Oh. Well, it wasn't, so, you know, can we stop?" He didn't sound very hopeful.

"I'm sorry, Finn, but that's not possible. We have to get through this. Now, I want to step back for a minute, and ask a quick question. At any point, did you speak to either Joseph or Lily about your life in Lima? Your family, your age, anything?"

It seemed off the cuff, but I knew that it wasn't. What he was doing was laying the foundation for Joseph to claim that he had no idea that Finn was as young as he was.

Finn shook his head. "He never asked."

Mr. Samuels nodded and moved on before Finn could figure out what was happening. "I'm not going to go over the details with you again. I know that talking about sexual things makes teenage boys uncomfortable. Let's move on to what happened afterwards"

What he actually meant was that he was uncomfortable, and that the rest of the courtroom would be uncomfortable. Nobody wants to hear about rape and molestation. Every time the words came out of Finn's mouth, they dug deeper and deeper into the souls of everyone in this courtroom. It wasn't exactly something you could get out of your mind.

"Do you mean after we went back downstairs? He told me that I couldn't go home now, because of what he did to me, but that I could stay with him and Lily if I wanted to. He even said they would give me a new name, and it could be whatever I wanted it to."

"He said you could stay if you wanted to? That doesn't sound much like you were forced to be there. It sounds to me more like they were kind enough to open their home to someone who had nowhere else to go."

"But I did." Finn's voice was faint. "I had a home, and I wanted to go back to it. They wouldn't let me."

"Did you ask them to let you go? Was there ever a time where you looked at Joseph or Lily and specifically told them you wanted to go home?"

"No. I knew they weren't going to let me go."

"You didn't even ask them to take you home. Did you think that they would be able to read your mind and know that?"

"But they…." Finn was getting confused, and it showed. "They knew that I wanted to go home."

"Yes, that's what you've claimed. They knew you wanted to go home. Joseph knew that you didn't want to do sexual things with him. They knew that you were unhappy. Only you didn't tell them any of that. It's hard for me to understand what you were expecting here."

Every part of my soul was screaming to jump up and defend my boyfriend. He was getting absolutely hammered up there. His every word was watched and picked apart, the smallest inconsistencies brought back out and thrown in his face. This wasn't right or fair, and I had to protect him from the world.

Right or fair doesn't matter here. This man has a job, and he's doing it to the best of his ability. There may come a day when you need a defense attorney, and you'll want him to pull out all of the stops. Remember, he doesn't have to prove anything. All it takes is doubt in the mind of one juror, and this man walks. And I have to tell you, Kurt, he's doing a great job of creating that doubt.

He was doing a great job of making Finn look like a lying idiot, which I guessed was the same thing. The worst part was, there was nothing I could do about it. Like so much else, this fell solely on Finn.

"He knew." Finn was scrambling now, trying to come up with something to make himself believable. "So did Lily. Before we went up there, she patted my back when I walked by her, and she looked at me really sad. Her eyes were saying that she was sorry, even if she didn't say it with her mouth."

"Let's wait to talk about Lily, Finn. I want to keep things going in the order that they happened, so nobody gets confused. Can you do that for me?"

"I guess. I didn't want to pick a new name, so I just let him do it. He picked Jeremy, and he said that I could live with them forever, now. But if anyone asked me, I was supposed to tell them that my name was Jeremy Samuel Wright, and I was their son. I didn't want to, but I was afraid to tell him that and make him mad so I said ok. He went downstairs and told Lily that I was going to stay, and we should have a nice dinner."

"Did they ask you what you wanted for dinner?"

Finn frowned. "Not really. She did ask if I liked steak, and I do, and she asked how I wanted it cooked."

"Finn, something else changed, that night, am I correct? You didn't have your bedroom door closed any longer, right?"

"Right. He cuffed my hands to the radiator instead."

"Finn, I want to remind everyone of your size. 6'3 and 240, does that sound right?"

"Yeah. We talked about this already." Finn knew he was about to be zinged again, but he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Would you describe yourself as physically strong? You've mentioned that you play several sports."

"I guess. I mean, yeah, I'm pretty strong."

"Then can you see how Joseph may have been a little afraid of you? You're much bigger then he is, and you've already told us that the three of you didn't know much about each other. He could have been afraid for both his and Lily's safety."

Finn gave him an 'are you kidding me?' look. "Do you do that to the people who come to your house?"

"I do not. But I'm not in the habit of picking up strangers on the side of the road, either. I'm not saying that they were right to do what they did to you. Personally, I don't think that they were. But that doesn't mean that they did it with poor intentions."

Nice move. Here he was, acknowledging that his clients weren't perfect. They had made mistakes with Finn. It made him seem nicer, and more like and honest person. Of course he would tell the truth. After all, he had just told it at the expense of his clients.

A strange silence fell, with just Finn and the lawyer looking at each other. Which was appropriate. Ostensibly, this was a battle between truth and untruth, or Finn and the Wrights, but it really wasn't. It was lawyer agasint lawyer, and a lawyer can only do as well as his best witness. When it came right down to it, this was Finn against Mr. Samuels.

My stomach churned as I looked between their faces. Finn's was almost curious, as if he couldn't quite understand what was happening, but really wanted to. He didn't shy away from eye contact, but he didn't look over at the jury, either. His world was narrowed down to just him and his opponent.

Mr. Samuels was a professional, and he knew how to work the room. He made sure to look at the jury, and make them feel like they were a part of everything that had happened. Of course they had been there, and he wanted them to see his version of what had happened.

Finn didn't have the finesse, but he was pushing his version of events with his very heart and soul. The roughness of his narrative was very real, and contrasted with the slickness of what Mr. Samuels was trying to sell.

In other words, this could still go either way. We had the truth on our side, but was it going to be enough?