Chapter 8: Shining Like a Lighthouse from the Sea
We pulled into the parking garage next to the Tulsa County Courthouse at a quarter after ten o'clock the next morning, after a less than five-minute drive from our hotel. I got out, buttoned the jacket on my charcoal grey Oxxford suit, and adjusted my navy blue silk tie before looking over at my brother, who was simply dressed in a tan waffle-patterned Henley, black slacks, and the plain collar lent to us by the hotel, his only adornment being his amulet.
"Are you ready?" I asked as I reached for his leash.
Dean took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and nodded. "Let's do this."
Once inside, we went through security and were directed to the courtroom on the first floor where the Protective Order Docket was held. Balthazar, who was clad in a silvery Armani suit with black shirt and tie, was pacing in the hallway while talking on the phone. Victor and a woman I took to be Agent Ballard were seated on a bench near the courtroom door, Garth was looking out a window (he'd volunteered to come for moral support), and Dr. Garrison was approaching from the opposite direction.
Balthazar hung up as we drew near. "Ah good, the gang's all here! I'm told they'll be letting us in shortly. Your old man is here somewhere, but I believe the Feds locked him in a broom closet or something to keep him from causing a ruckus. We've got an hour and a half until the next hearing, though ideally we shouldn't need that long to convince the judge."
Before either of us could respond, the bailiff opened the doors, and we all filed inside the courtroom. Our lawyer led us past the spectators' benches, through the gate at the rail, and over to the counsel table on the right. He and I took the two chairs there, while Dean arranged himself on the thick kneeling cushion on the floor beside me. Our witnesses sat in first row of benches behind us, while several paralegals carried in multiple file boxes and lined them up against the railing.
A harried-looking man in a polyester suit hurried in shortly after us and went to the other counsel table, and two armed guards then brought in John Winchester, wearing an orange jumpsuit and restraints at both wrists and ankles, and seated him next to his public defender. It took a great amount of willpower to maintain a calm outward demeanor as I stared at the smug face of the man I'd hated for the past decade. Dean kept his gaze turned resolutely away, but his pale face and faint trembling indicated his distress at being in his abuser's presence, and I quickly dropped a comforting hand to his shoulder.
An elderly gentleman in judge's robes entered a few minutes later from a door in the back and took his place at the judge's bench. He settled his glasses on his nose and gave our lawyer an unamused glance. "So Mr. Benelohim, what brings you to my courtroom today?"
Balthazar rose and went to the podium between and somewhat in front of the counsel tables. "Good morning, Your Honor. My client and I are here regarding the disposition of the omega WM96KS6581, known as Dean. We are requesting to terminate all custodial rights from the omega's biological sire, one John Winchester, and transfer sole guardianship to my client, the omega's elder brother, Sam Winchester. In addition, we are asking that a permanent protective order be placed against John Winchester to forbid him from approaching the omega or my client in the future. I know your time is valuable, so I won't waste it on flowery speeches. I think the evidence we'll be presenting will speak for itself."
The judge nodded. "Very well. Call your first witness."
Dr. Garrison then came to the witness stand and was sworn in. He began going through Dean's medical history, starting with the initial visit to his clinic and then going back through those records which had been discovered so far, with the copy of each record submitted into evidence once he was done with it. He explained everything in layman's terms but in sufficient detail to make the extent and severity of the neglect and mistreatment abundantly clear.
Most of his testimony was familiar to me, but some new information derived from Agent Ballard's recent investigation, such as Dean needing care for severe tearing and bleeding after that first gang-rape or treatment once for chlamydia and another time for gonorrhea, still shocked and enraged me. If it weren't for my brother's anxious hand on my leg the first time I started to growl, I likely would've leapt across the room to wrap my hands around John's throat. As it were, I had to concentrate on my concern for Dean's emotional state to maintain a grip on my self-control.
After the doctor had finished his summary of the past decade's worth of injuries and abuse, Balthazar said, "I have just a couple more questions. Do you also have documentation of Dean's medical history prior to John Winchester taking him away from my client?"
"Yes, we do. We have records of yearly visits to public omega clinics for wellness checks, vaccines, and other preventative care, as well as for the occasional treatment of typical childhood illnesses. According to those files, the person who brought Dean to the clinic each time was his older brother Sam, usually with some kind of note to explain their father's absence. These checkups stopped sometime after Dean turned fourteen, which I understand is when he was kidnapped," Dr. Garrison explained. "There was only one serious injury noted during that time, which was Dean fracturing his left ulna at the age of eight. Both boys stated this was due to Dean jumping off of the roof of a shed and landing wrong, which was corroborated by the property owner who brought them to the ER."
"You've seen Dean more recently since the night of the arrest, yes? How has his medical condition changed between the two visits, while under my client's care?" our lawyer asked.
"That's correct, I examined him yesterday morning," Dr. Garrison replied. "His improvement has been remarkable, considering the short time frame—his injuries are well on their way to healing, he's begun to put on weight, his forced heat and immediate drug withdrawal have passed, and he seems alert, responsive, and well, happy. This was a far cry from the extremely damaged and distressed young man I saw last week. His recovery still has a long way to go, of course, but the difference between being under the defendant's care to being under his brother's is undeniable."
Balthazar thanked him and sat down. Jeff Krause, the public defender, took his place at the podium. "Dr. Garrison, is there any actual evidence in this litany of supposed mishandling to suggest that my client was the perpetrator?"
Dr. Garrison raised his eyebrows. "First, there's nothing supposed here—this is one of the clearest cases of omega cruelty I've ever seen. Second, wasn't your client caught literally with his pants down in the act of pimping his own child out by federal and local law enforcement, as I'm sure someone will attest to later? As for the earlier instances, the defendant is listed in those records as the one responsible for bringing Dean in to get his too-frequent injuries taken care of at those back-alley butchers, so at the very least, your client was allowing the abuse to happen and not protecting his son, which still makes him unfit to be an omega guardian even if he never admitted direct culpability. And unless you want to seriously suggest that Dean starved and drugged himself, it's pretty clear who the culprit behind the additional neglect actually was."
"No further questions for this witness," Krause muttered, looking even more hangdog as he returned to his seat.
Dr. Garrison left the witness stand and was replaced by Special Agent Victor Henriksen. After being sworn it, Henriksen discussed the highlights of his five-year manhunt, starting with what brought John to the FBI's attention, including when the two of us met and teamed up, and ending with the arrest in Okmulgee. His testimony focused on the evidence he'd uncovered over the years pertaining to John's mistreatment of the omega, with particular detail given to what was found during the arrest. Copies of the pertinent portions of the case files were entered into evidence as he spoke.
"Special Agent Henriksen, is this the only legal proceeding currently being held against John Winchester?" Balthazar inquired.
Krause stood quickly. "Objection! This question doesn't relate to the matter at hand, and the answer could be prejudicial to my client!"
"On the contrary, this ties in directly to the senior Winchester's fitness as a custodian," Balthazar countered. "He cannot perform his duties if he is in jail during a lengthy trial or after a conviction, after all. And the severity of the charges is pertinent in determining how long he potentially could be incarcerated."
"Objection overruled. Please answer the question, Special Agent," Judge Myers instructed.
"We're preparing to present our case to the grand jury by next week for multiple charges of first-degree murder, for which we plan to seek the death penalty, as well as lesser charges of manslaughter, aggravated assault, kidnapping, solicitation, abuse of an omega, breaking and entering, impersonating law enforcement officers, possession of unregistered firearms, credit card fraud, insurance fraud, and hunting without a valid FASA license," Henriksen explained. "We have more than enough evidence currently to be granted an indictment; however, given the quantity and gravity of the charges—this is possibly the biggest serial murder case we've ever had in this country—we don't expect either side to be ready to go to trial for several weeks or even months. John Winchester has been remanded without bail to the maximum security ward at the Federal Transfer Center in Oklahoma City, where he'll remain until and during the trial."
"I understand that you can't discuss details of an ongoing case, but what are the chances of Winchester gaining his freedom after the trial?"
"Slim to none, honestly. The defendant is looking at spending the rest of his life in a federal mental facility, maximum security penitentiary, or death row, depending on how the jury finds against him," Victor stated.
"Thank you, Special Agent. No further questions, Your Honor." Balthazar left the podium.
"Is it true, Agent Henriksen, that the non-humans my client is accused of allegedly killing were guilty themselves of violent crimes, of attacking and killing human citizens? That FASA would've sent licensed hunters to take these individuals down if my client supposedly hadn't done so first?" Krause demanded.
"It's Special Agent Henriksen, buddy. And yes, many of John Winchester's victims were wanted for various crimes, but not all—some were merely under suspicion, some were trying to protect their loved ones from his attacks, and some were simply 'collateral damage' in his vendetta. Regardless, those who were accused still had a right to a fair trial and be punished according to the law if found guilty—they didn't deserve to be murdered in cold blood by your client," Henriksen retorted heatedly. "You got any more crap like this?"
Krause shook his head and sat down. Balthazar then called Agent Diana Ballard to the witness stand. She described her team's investigation since the arrest into John's crimes that pertained to his abuse of my younger brother. Much of her testimony featured what had been discovered through his 'little black book,' giving both general numbers and specific examples regarding how often he'd pimped Dean out, how many 'clients' he'd sold the omega's 'services' to, and the myriad ways he and the johns mistreated his own son in the course of those transactions. Even though I'd heard most of this earlier when Dean had spoken to Henriksen last week, it was still extremely challenging to keep my cool, and I once again had to direct my attention to my brother and make sure he was handling hearing all this as well as could be expected.
The public defender had no questions for her, and so I was summoned to the stand next. Once I'd been sworn in, Balthazar asked, "How long have you been Dean's primary caregiver, Mr. Winchester?"
"I've been looking after my baby brother pretty much since our mother died. For the first couple of years, John did make an effort to find someone to watch over us, like a neighbor or family friend or hunting ally, but I still helped them out however I could. By the time I was about seven, I was taking care of him more or less full-time, other than when we'd stay with one of the few friends John had left," I said. "I made sure Dean was clean and healthy, had enough to eat and something to wear, and knew he was loved and wanted. I taught him to walk, talk, read, and everything else. And I did my best to keep him safe, not only from the usual things like strangers and household hazards but also and especially from John himself."
"Indeed, and where was John Winchester during this time, when a mere child was forced to raise another child? And why did you need to protect Dean from his own father?"
I shrugged. "John was gone most of the time—out hunting or looking for supposed leads about our mother's 'real' killer or scrounging up money or simply getting wasted. If he couldn't leave us with someone like Bobby Singer or Pastor Jim Murphy, he'd dump us at a motel or cheap rental for several weeks with barely enough money to cover rent and food and orders not to attract attention. When he was around, he was usually busy obsessing over his research or drinking. The only times he paid attention to me was to train me to be a hunter, whether I wanted to or not.
"As for Dean, John somehow blamed him for Mom's death, even though my brother was only six months old at the time. He refused to believe that it was simply a random tragedy, even after the perpetrator was caught and confessed, and insisted it was part of some demonic conspiracy and that the demon had contaminated Dean and the other infant victims. He also turned against omegas in general after losing his mate, claiming that they made alphas weak and needed to be kept down, that sort of thing. As a result, he was much harsher with Dean, ignoring him when he was hungry or upset, shoving him away when he got near, shouting at him over the slightest infraction, looking for any excuse to slap or spank him or worse.
"I did what I could to shield Dean and keep him away from John when I was too little to stop the abuse, and as soon as I got big and strong enough, I made sure he never raised his voice to or laid a hand on my little brother when I was around," I continued. "I also encouraged John to stay away even more by working odd jobs after school to support the two of us while he was gone, finding him 'leads' to pursue elsewhere, and picking fights with him when he was around to both keep his attention on me and make him not want to stick around. The problem was that I couldn't keep him away forever, and I couldn't be there all the time to guard Dean when he was with us. So I eventually resolved to take my brother with me when I left for college and began preparing to sue for custody once I turned eighteen."
Our lawyer nodded encouragingly. "What did happen then?"
I sighed. "The night before my eighteenth birthday, John bought a bottle of good whiskey, Johnny Walker Black Label, instead of his usual cheap rotgut and said he wanted to start over and try to mend our relationship. I shouldn't have fallen for it, but John could be pretty damn convincing when necessary—he'd even made an effort to be less unpleasant in the weeks leading up as part of the con—and I guess there was still a part of me that was the little boy who missed his dad. He even encouraged Dean to have some, which should've warned me that he was up to something. It turned out that he'd dosed our drinks with a sedative—I suspect ketamine—that knocked both of us out within about half an hour. When I woke up the following morning, he and Dean were gone, and on the dinette table was the amulet I'd given to Dean years ago, lying on top of my acceptance letter to Stanford University."
"What did you do after discovering that your brother was missing?" he asked.
"I first went to the police, but since John was Dean's legal owner, there wasn't much they could do besides file assault charges for unlawfully drugging me. I next headed to the nearest Omega Welfare Services office with the evidence I'd gathered for the custody suit to open an omega endangerment case against John, and OWS promised to launch an investigation into his whereabouts. I also got in touch with everyone I knew in the hunting community to enlist their help in finding my brother. John was already persona non grata with most of them due to his unstable and violent behavior, so they agreed to keep an eye out for him and spread the word to their own contacts. I then spent the next several weeks searching for any leads as to where he'd taken Dean.
"I finally decided to go on to Stanford like I'd originally planned because the full ride meant I could devote my spare time to looking for Dean instead of trying to support myself, plus I knew the degree and eventual career would allow me to better provide for him once I found him. I qualified for my hunting license and took cases when I could to earn money for travel expenses, private investigators, and so on to continue the search. After befriending Charlene Bradbury, I chose to work towards opening our own software company instead becoming a lawyer because that would give me more time, flexibility, and resources to spend on finding my brother," I stated.
I then gave an overview of my decade-long search, including joining up with Henriksen and how we ultimately managed to track John down and rescue Dean. As with the doctor and the FBI agents, Balthazar entered the copies of my documentation, such as the OWS case file, police reports, and statements from witnesses, private investigators, and hunters who'd provided assistance, into evidence after we'd gone over the pertinent testimony.
"Alright then, Mr. Winchester, let's switch gears now and discuss why you're more qualified to be your brother's guardian," Balthazar suggested. "How about we start with what is it you do for a living?"
"Sure. I'm the co-CEO and chief financial officer for HunterCorp, a software company based in San Francisco with over forty employees so far. Our main product is the game Supernatural, which has grossed over one hundred-fifty million dollars in sales in the three years since its release. We also have a training simulator based on the game which has been endorsed by the Federal Agency of Supernatural Affairs and rolled out to the Campbell Hunter Academy and other training facilities. We're currently working on an MMO version of the game and an interactive, virtual reality-based version of the simulator, both of which we hope to have ready later this year or early next year. I have copies of the company financial statements and my tax returns to show HunterCorp's net worth and my income, in order to demonstrate that I'll have no problem supporting Dean as well as myself." I paused while those were submitted into evidence.
"Of course, money isn't the only thing that matters—a good work-life balance is also a priority to us. I generally work at home at least two days out of the week and rarely work long hours unless we have a deadline looming," I continued. "There's a day care in the ground floor of our building for employees with children, and the Omega Center of San Francisco, which is run by my friend and your brother Castiel, is a block away. We also have spaces throughout our offices for when employees want to bring their kids, omegas, and even pets with them to work. All this means that watching over Dean won't be an issue."
"And where is home right now?" he inquired next.
"Well, both Charlie and I moved to San Francisco after finishing graduate school and starting up HunterCorp, and we actually shared a rental house for a couple of years. I then bought a four-story rowhouse in Lower Pacific Heights a little over a year ago," I explained. "It has five bedrooms, four and a half baths, a good-sized yard, and both a backyard and rooftop deck, so there's plenty of space for Dean to be comfortable. My office and the Omega Center are only a few blocks away, and there are plenty of shops and restaurants, as well as the UCSF Medical Center, nearby."
"What about your support system?"
"In San Francisco, there's Charlie, Castiel, Ash, and my many other friends, who've stood by me and helped me in looking for Dean and whom I hope will become his friends too. As for family, our paternal grandmother Millie and her mate live in Normal, Illinois, and on our mother's side is the entire Campbell hunting clan, from our grandparents Samuel and Deanna in Lansing, Michigan to various cousins around the country—all of whom are eager to meet and welcome Dean. There are also the family friends from when we were growing up, like Bobby, Pastor Jim, and the Harvelles," I said.
"One last set of questions then—what are your plans once you have custody of your brother?"
"My first priority is Dean's health. As Dr. Garrison testified, we've had his injuries initially treated and started his drug withdrawal treatment, and we'll continue to follow up with a doctor at the Omega Center's clinic when we get home, as well as find him a good therapist there to deal with the mental and emotional trauma. We've been slowly getting back onto a normal diet and will keep monitoring that until he's back up to a healthy weight, again under a doctor's supervision. Naturally, all this is going to take some time, at least several months and possibly a year or longer.
"Once he's fully recovered, we'll have to decide if staying with me is what's best for him." I looked over at Dean and smiled. "If we find someone that will be a good mate and he feels safe with, then I'll determine if that would be the right course of action. As Agent Ballard testified however, he's already exceeded the minimum for those states with breeding requirements for omegas, though California isn't one of them, so there's no need to rush."
"Do you have an omega of your own currently, Mr. Winchester?"
I shook my head. "All my attention has been focused on my brother since he was taken, so I haven't had the time or energy to spare for finding and caring for a mate—or even dating any betas. That's not likely to change until Dean's better."
Balthazar sat down and was replaced by Krause at the podium. "While I commend your devotion to this omega, if my client was purportedly such a terrible parent when the two of you were growing up, why didn't you or anyone else report him to Child Protective Services or Omega Welfare Services?"
"Because I couldn't risk that we'd be separated if we were taken away from John's custody while I was still underage. We've all heard how difficult the foster care system can be, and that it's generally much worse for omega children. I knew I could keep my little brother safe, even from him, but I couldn't guarantee that the same would be true under the state's care, especially if I wasn't with him," I replied patiently. "So I did my best to avoid anything that might bring the attention of CPS or OWS, and I persuaded those family friends who were worried about how John was treating Dean that I could take better care of Dean than the system—and I did. I understand that this failed in the end, but honestly no one could've expected what John did—after all, in other cases even remotely similar to this, it's never been the alpha child who was abandoned."
Krause sighed again. "No further questions, Mr. Winchester."
"I have no other witnesses at this time, Your Honor," Balthazar stated as I stepped down and returned to the plaintiff's table, where Dean gave me a surreptitious thumbs-up and squeezed my hand encouragingly.
Judge Myer looked down at the public defender. "Do you have any witnesses, Mr. Krause?"
Krause grimaced. "This is against my legal advice, but my client has insisted. Therefore, I call . . . John Winchester to the stand."