A Different Game part 4a:



"I don't care what Mr. Avery or the Judge says, I'm NOT going to let them do that to you," Tim fumed as he paced their small cell.

"Tim, calm down. Wilson's just doing his best to save your life," Dick said.

"I. Don't. Care. He's not going to save me by throwing you to the wolves. I'm NOT going to let that happen."

"Well how are you going to stop it? The judge has already said he can do it over your objection."

"I will stop it," Tim replied determinedly.

"How?"

"I'll stand up in court and tell everyone I killed Bruce and you just helped me try to cover it up."

Dick chuckled, "Well that's going to help us out a lot Tim."

"Well, I can threaten Wilson that I'd do that, so he'll do what I want."

"You tell him you're going to do that and I'll be finishing my trial without you because you'll be in Arkham for a psych eval."

Tim plopped down on his bunk. He moved his hands under his head, lacing his fingers together. He let out a loud sigh. "I'm not going to let them do this to you, I won't."

Dick stood up and moved to Tim's bunk sitting beside the younger boy. "Thanks kid. But you know, I'm more concerned with the verdict than the sentence."

"Huh?"

"This is all worry for nothing if we're found not guilty. We only have to worry about this if we're convicted."

"Do you think we'll be convicted Dick?" Tim asked, sitting up.

"I don't know Tim. Everyone seems to think we will, but -- I can't believe it. I can't believe that could happen to us. Things look bad, but only because we haven't been able to explain what really happened -- "

"But we don't know what really happened -- to Bruce. We can explain the tape, the swords, and the blood on the clothes, but we can't explain what happened to Bruce. Dick, I'm -- "

"I know that," Dick began, stopping Tim's thought because he didn't want to hear it, "but we don't have to do that. We just have to make the jury believe us, believe that Bruce was alive when we left the Manor. I think we can do that. We tell the truth."

"And the truth shall set us free. Alfred says that," Tim said thoughtfully.

"Well, are we going to question Alfie?" Dick asked with a smile.

"Not me," Tim replied shaking his head and smiling at his big brother.



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Walters and Avery had worked in presenting the defenses case. Tim insistence had caused Wilson Avery to change his strategy, at least until he felt he had no other choice. Their family and friends each testified one after the other. Testified as to their character, about their relationship with Bruce -- how it wasn't what Reynold's had tried to make it out to be. Hogan, Mutt, and Chancy had come up from Bludhaven to testify for Dick.

But the attorneys knew this testimony wouldn't win their case for them. They had to explain the state's case away. Had to puncture enough holes in the evidence to create reasonable doubt. The character evidence didn't do this, but the attorneys hoped it would give the jury a sense of who Dick and Tim were so that when the boys testified the jury would believe them. The defense's case rested solely on the believability of the defendants themselves.

Tim was called to the stand first. They were banking on his youthful innocence to bolster their case. Wilson Avery questioned Tim about himself, what he did, what he liked, where he went to school and how his grades were. He questioned him about his friends and his hobbies. And he questioned him about his relationship with Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson.

"Bruce was great," Tim replied softly, sadness tingeing his voice. "He was like a second father to me. I ... I spent a lot of time with him. He'd teach me things. He cared about me."

"And Dick Grayson? How was your relationship with him?"

"Dick's the best!" Tim started beaming as he smiled at Dick. "He's the older brother I always wanted but never had. We spend a lot of time together. Hanging out, watching movies, playing ball and other sport stuff. He picks on me and I pick on him. We're brothers in every way that really counts."

"Tim, tell the jury what happened July 27th of this year," Wilson told Tim.

Tim turned to face the jury, to look at the people who held his fate in their hands, and he started recounting the events of that day. "I was at school, at Brentwood. Being a boarding school, we have classes year-round with a couple of weeks off here and there. So, anyway, I had classes that day, but I was excited because I knew Dick was coming to pick me up after class for the weekend. I was going to stay with him for the weekend."

"And did Mr. Grayson pick you up at school?"

"Yea, he did. Dick was there at three. We signed out, grabbed my bags and headed toward Wayne Manor. We got there a little after four. Bruce was already there."

"What did the three of you do?"

"Well, the first thing we did was raid the kitchen. That's what we always did. Alfred wasn't there, he's been staying at Brentwood taking care of me, and he was going to go up state for the weekend while I was in Bludhaven. Anyway, without Alfred there the kitchen wasn't stocked like it is when he's there. Bruce can't cook, can't boil water," Tim said with a slight laugh as he thought about Bruce's culinary abilities. "But we found stuff to eat and we talked about what had been going on in each of our weeks. Then we just hung out together."

"Tim, blood was found on your clothes and your fingerprints were found on a sword that had Bruce Wayne's blood on it. Tell the jury how that happened."

Tim was nervous, his stomach was fluttering, they had to believe him. Looking at the jury, he started, "We, um, we -- Dick and me -- were horsing around while Bruce was at his desk looking at some files. We took the swords from the wall mount and started fencing around the room."

"These were real swords, did you usually play so dangerously?"

"Yea, we did. It was just horsing around. We'd do stuff like that, we didn't think about it being dangerous, it was just stuff we knew how to do. Anyway, we kept messing around and Bruce told us we were getting too loud. Dick said Bruce was being an old grouch because he didn't know how to play. Bruce said he was going to take the swords away. We told him to try it and he got up to come get them. Dick and I were laughing and we jumped up on the back of the sofa. We didn't expect Bruce to do what he did."

"Go on Tim," Wilson said, "What happened next?"

"Bruce kicked the sofa over. Dick and I would have fell if we hadn't jumped in a somersault," Tim said. Then seeing the looks in the jurors eyes, he added, "Dick's family were circus acrobats. That was where I first met Dick, at the circus. Anyway, Dick's taught me some of their moves and that's how we knew how to do the somersaults. Bruce tried to grab the swords from us while we were in the air, we tried to jerk away, and the swords sliced into Bruce's arms as we hit the floor. We didn't mean for that to happen, it was an accident," Tim said, his face full of pain and guilt. "We dropped the swords and the three of us were on the floor. Things were happening so fast, you know, we were trying to stop the bleeding, to make sure he was okay."

"Was Bruce okay, Tim?"

"He was hurt and bleeding, but yea, he was okay. We got the bleeding stopped and he was okay. He was even picking at Dick and me about what happened. We stayed about an hour after that happened. Bruce was fine when we left, sore but fine."

"Did you and Dick kill Bruce?" Wilson asked.

"No," Tim said as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "no we didn't. We wouldn't. Bruce was alive when we left the Manor," Tim replied, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Thank you Tim. Answer Mr. Reynolds' questions."

Tim turned to face Peter Reynolds. He wished he was facing the Joker. Reynolds smiled at him as he stood up and approached the witness stand.

"Mr. Drake," Reynolds began, "You admit to stabbing Mr. Wayne, correct?"

Tim shook his head, "We didn't stab him. He was cut with the swords by accident."

"Accident. Thirty-three times."

"We didn't do that!"

"No, you just accidentally cut him with the swords when you and Mr. Grayson were performing Olympic style gymnastics."

"Objection! Argumentative!" Wilson Avery shouted as he stood.

"Sustained. Mr. Reynolds, just ask questions," Judge Vargas instructed.

"Why don't we talk about something else. Why don't we talk about you, Tim," Reynolds said, "Tell the jury how many times you've ran away."

Tim looked up at Reynolds, "I haven't ran away."

"Well, lets see, there have been times that you've left home or school haven't there?"

"Yes."

"And your father and the school officials didn't approve these trips of yours, did they?"

"No."

"Let's see, you've been to Europe and Florida without permission and stayed for weeks on end without notifying anyone of your whereabouts, correct."

Tim sighed, he couldn't explain, "Yes."

"And you violated federal law and entered Gotham while it was declared 'No Man's Land' and stayed on the streets here for months?"

"Yes," Tim said looking down.

"Now, that was an illegal act, wasn't it?"

Tim looked at Reynolds and sighed, "I guess it was. I wasn't really thinking about that at the time." I was thinking about saving people's lives and helping Bruce reclaim this city while you were probably living comfortably some place else.

"And that's not the only illegal thing you've done is it?"

"What are you talking about?" Tim asked incredulously.

"Are you aware that possession a firearm on educational property is a felony?"

Tim's mouth opened, but no sound escaped. He had no idea that Reynolds was going to question him about that. He looked to Dick, and Reynolds struck out like a cobra, "Don't look to Grayson for your answers!" Reynolds yelled as he stepped into Tim's line of sight cutting off his view of Dick. Tim jumped at the ferocity of Reynolds. It was totally unexpected. Reynolds continued before Tim could say anything. "You did have a gun in your room at Brentwood Academy, didn't you?"

Dick Grayson started to stand -- he wasn't thinking -- he was acting -- he wanted to protect Tim. Walters and Avery both grabbed him by his arms pushing him back into his chair, but the jury saw.

Walters shook his head as he leaned over to his client and whispered, "Think about what you're doing. It's the kid's life too -- not just yours-- that you're putting on the line if you do something like you were just about to."

Dick turned to look at his attorney. He was seething, but knew his attorney was right.

"Yea...yes. But --" Tim tried to answer.

"And your father didn't know you had a gun, did he?"

"No."

"And you had Mr. Pennyworth pose as your father to keep you from getting in trouble with the school, didn't you?" Reynolds continued, increasing his pace.

Tim's breathing was heavier, his eyes darting from Reynolds to the jury, "I...yes."

"Now you left the school with Richard Grayson July 27th? He signed you out." Tim nodded his head as Reynolds continued, "But the authorization slip that allowed Richard Grayson to sign you out of school was NOT signed by your father, was it? It was a forgery wasn't it?"

"Yes," Tim said softly.

Dick dropped his head in his hands. This was not how this was supposed to go.

"Dick Grayson's like an older brother to you, right?"

"Yes," Tim said, almost defiantly.

"And you look up to him."

"Of course I do."

"And you'd do anything to please him, wouldn't you?"

"I try, I -- "

"Even help him kill his father!"

"No! God, no! We didn't --" Tim started as he turned to face the jury. His voice lower, he continued, "we didn't."

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Dick followed Tim into the courthouse holding cell where they would spend their lunch recess. Tim hadn't said a word since he left the stand. He walked straight to the back wall and placed both hands against the cold concrete. Dick walked over to him, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"I messed up, Dick. I messed up so badly," Tim said as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"Hey," Dick said as he turned Tim around to face him, "it's all right Tim. You did your best. You did fine. Everything's fine. "

"No Dick, it's not," he said as he fell against Dick's chest, his arms tightly gripping his brother.

Dick comfortingly stroked the boy's back and tried to calm his fears. But he knew he couldn't, because he shared those fears. Their attorneys had warned them about Reynolds cross-examination of them, but they couldn't have been prepared until they underwent the grueling ordeal. And he knew it wasn't over. His own testimony was scheduled to start immediately after lunch.

"Don't give up Tim. Come on, you know who we are. We don't give up."

Tim looked up at Dick, his face pale and emotionless. He nodded his head. "I'm glad Bruce isn't around to see me, he'd fire me. I'm not exactly acting like Robin, am I?"

"Yeah, you are. We weren't trained for this situation. I wasn't trained for this situation. This is one possibility Bruce never came up with a plan about. But we're not going to worry. We'll be getting out of here soon Tim," Dick said resolved. "We're not staying here."

***********************************************************************

Dick had been on the stand constantly since they returned to court from lunch. Reynolds smiled as he stood to cross-examine him. Dick didn't return his smile, but sat stoically, patiently, waiting for Reynolds to strike. Dick was prepared for him.

"You and Mr. Wayne had a tumultuous relationship, didn't you?"

"We had our ups and downs, like every family does."

"You fought?"

"Yes, and yes sometimes we got physical," Dick added cutting Reynolds off at the next question in his progression. "But we're physical people, athletic people. We were always practicing -- boxing, wrestling, fencing, gymnastics -- it was only natural that when things got very heated and very emotional that we'd get physical. It didn't mean we didn't care about each other."

"But you admit that you and your father have punched each other."

"Yea, we did. And I'm not proud of that. It happened at one of the worst times in our relationship. It was right after Jason, my brother, had died. We were both hurting and we lashed out at each other. It wasn't that we really wanted to hurt each other. We wanted to hurt," he stopped himself and thought - he couldn't say that they wanted to hurt the joker -- Jason's death was ruled an "accident" so he couldn't say hurt the ones responsible. Taking a breath, he continued, "someone, anyone, wanted someone to blame for Jason's death. But there was no one to blame. If you've ever lost someone important to you, you could understand how we were feeling."

"You say your brother Jason was important to you, but you didn't attend his funeral did you?"

Dick looked Reynolds squarely in the eyes, "No sir, I didn't. I was ... out of the country ... when Jason died. I was unreachable, Bruce didn't have my number. I didn't know about Jason's death until after the funeral. But I came home as soon as I heard."

"Were you jealous of Jason?"

Dick looked down, "Yes. I'm not proud of that, but yes I was. But I knew how Bruce felt about me, I knew he loved me, but it hurt that he adopted Jason when he hadn't legally adopted me. But we talked about that. He explained that to me. And I understood. Jason and I weren't as close as I wish we were, but he was my brother and we did have a relationship -- a good relationship regardless of what some people seem to think. There was a time that I was -- sick," he said thinking of the time he was under Brother Blood's control, yes that was sick. "Jay came and helped me out. Left and came to help me without Bruce knowing about it, but I told him not to worry about getting in trouble, because Bruce would want him to help me out. Jay's death hurt both Bruce and me. It still hurts. That's one of the reasons I think why I'm so close to Tim. He fills a void, not that he's a replacement, we're like brothers and I care about him because he's Tim, but I needed him in my life."

"Well that's very nice, Mr. Grayson. Is that why you forged his father's signature on an authorization to allow you to sign him out of school?"

"I didn't --"

"You knew his father hadn't authorized you to remove Tim from school."

"Yes," Dick said through gritted teeth.

"In fact, his father knew nothing of your relationship with his son, did he?"

"He knew we know each other."

"As acquaintances only," Reynolds said firmly.

"Yes," Dick conceded. He hated their secrets.

"And on the night of July 27, 2001, did you and Tim Drake 'hit all of Bludhaven's bad spots'?" Reynolds asked quoting from their conversation on the videotape.

Dick sighed. "We didn't mean that the way that sounded. That tape is so out of context."

"Did you and Tim Drake do anything illegal on the night of July 27, 2001? ANYTHING?"

Technically, "Yes," Dick replied. He looked at the jury who glared at him.

"You and Bruce Wayne have had many problems in your relationship, haven't you? Times when you didn't even speak to one another for months or more on end, correct?"

"Yes. We didn't always communicate very well, but it doesn't mean we didn't care, it doesn't mean we didn't love each other. That's just the way it is sometimes -- between fathers and sons. We've been getting along better lately than we have in years. He had just adopted me. I didn't kill my father," Dick said emotion in his voice.

"Yes, he finally adopted you, making you his sole heir."

"Yes"

"And you were resentful that he didn't adopt you sooner, weren't you?"

"No, not really, it just hurt but --"

"You stabbed him with a sword?"

"No --"

"His blood was on your clothes?"

"Yes, but --"

"That's all."

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`All eyes in the courtroom watched as the jury came in and retook their seats. Dick looked back at Barbara who gave him a slight smile which he returned before he turned back toward the judge.

Judge Vargas asked the jury, "Have you reached a verdict?"

"The jury foreman stood, "Yes your honor, we have."

"Will the defendants please rise. Mr. Foreman if you would read the verdicts."

Dick and Tim stood, flanked by their attorneys, eyeing the jury. Their breathing was rapid, their stomachs in knots. Dick's hand clasped Tim's supportively -- united.

The jury foreman started to read from the verdict sheets, "On the charge of aggravated assault, we find the Defendants not guilty."

Dick and Tim both released a sigh of relief. As the looked at each other, wide grins started to form on their faces.

"On the charge of conspiracy to commit aggravated assault, we find the Defendants not guilty. On the charge of felony murder, we find the Defendants not guilty."

"Yes!" Dick whispered as he squeezed Tim's hand. Tim was smiling so wide. Behind them, their supporters shared their smiles.

"On the charge of conspiracy to commit felony murder, we find the Defendants not guilty."

Dick and Tim heard the sighs of relief coming from their family and friends sitting behind them. They turned to smile at them as the foreman continued to read from the verdict sheet.

"On the charge of first degree premeditated murder, we find the Defendants guilty."

Dick stared at Tim. Guilty. The smiles they wore faded. They both started shaking their heads, they couldn't be hearing this. This was impossible. Moans started to rise behind them. Their eyes fell back on jury foreman who kept reading. Their attorneys were whispering in their ears about appealing. About not worrying.

"On the charge of conspiracy to commit first degree premeditated murder, we find the Defendants guilty. On the charge of contributing to the delinquency of a minor, we find the Defendant Grayson, guilty."

Dick felt the room was contracting and expanding around him at the same time. His stomach ached. His breathing was labored. "No," he whispered silently as he felt Tim's hand tightly clutch his own.

The younger boy's breathing went shallow and rapid, then caught in hiccuping spasms.. He shook his head as tears stung his eyes.

The judge asked the jury, "Have you considered sentence recommendations?"

"Yes we have, your Honor. As to Defendant Drake," the foreman began. Dick saw Tim stiffen as they talked about his fate. "We find the aggravating factors submitted by the state to exist. We find the mitigating factors submitted by the defense to exist and to have mitigating value and we therefore recommend a sentence of life in prison without parole."

"No," Tim weakly said between gasped breaths.

"As to Defendant Grayson, we find the aggravating factors submitted by the state to exist. We find the mitigating factors submitted by the defense to exist but not to have mitigating value and we therefore recommend a sentence of death."

Dick heard Tim yell "No!" but even though they stood side by side, it seemed as if Tim's voice was miles away. He could hear sobs behind him. He shook his head. This wasn't possible. It was time to wake up Grayson, it's time to wake up, he kept telling himself. He felt Tim throw his arms around his body but he couldn't move. He heard the judge officially pronouncing sentence on them, but he couldn't move. He heard Jon Walters telling him not to worry that it was twelve to fifteen years before any death sentence was carried out, yet he still didn't move. He heard the quiet sobbing behind him and he still didn't move. It wasn't until the judge's gavel hit the bench adjourning court that he flinched. He flinched. With all his training, he flinched.

Jack Drake stood and started to move around the bar as he had during the recesses, only to find his way blocked by the bailiff. They wouldn't let him pass. Wouldn't let him go to his son. "Tim," he cried out.

Dick pried the boy's arms from around him and turned him toward his father. Jack reached across the railing that separated father and son and pulled Tim into a hug.

Tim tried to be brave. To keep his emotions in check. He was Robin he told himself. Then he realized, he would never be Robin again.

"I love you Timmy," Jack said.

He lost his resolve upon hearing those words from his father. In the safety of his father's arms he broke down as tears fell unbidden from his eyes. "Dad, no, please, no."

Dick turned from the sight he could no longer face. Turned and saw Barbara Gordon. Saw the woman he loved blankly staring ahead, tears falling from her eyes. "No!" he said aloud as he tried to reach her, only to find the guards blocking him as they had Jack Drake. "Babs," he said as he reached his arm across the railing. She took his hand in hers, clutching it as if his life depended upon it.

"We've got to go," a guard proclaimed as he tried to take Dick by the arm.

Dick jerked his arm away, "No, not yet, I have people to see." As he said that, he saw them all -- Alfred, Leslie, Clark, Donna, Roy, Wally, Dinah, Jim. Saw the pain on their faces. It mirrored the pain in his soul. He saw Dana, Cassandra and Stephanie rubbing Tim's back and arms as Jack clutched at the boy.

"Yes, now, Grayson," the guard barked as he grabbed Dick by the arm.

"Dick," Barbara cried out. Dick pulled away from the guard again and leaned over the railing to kiss her. Multiple guards grabbed him by his arms and waist pulling him away -- away from his world -- away from Barbara. But he clutched tightly at her hand as long as he could until their fingers could no longer touch. The pain he experienced as he heard her scream his name made his heart bleed. He saw other guards pulling Tim away from his father and knew the boy felt the same way. It was over. But how could it be over like this?

To be continued ....



AUTHOR'S NOTE:

My beta's asked me about the legal reasoning of the jury and the distinction between felony and first degree murder. The short version is this -- felony murder is what happens when a death occurs during the commission of a felony. In this case -- the aggravated assault. The State does not have to prove there was an intent to kill. Another example would be the convenince store robbery where a customer has a heart attack and dies. The robbers didn't intend to kill the customer, but since the death occurred as part of the felony, the robbers guilty of felony murder. First Degree Premeditated Murder is where the State has to prove that the defendant intended to murder the vistim. In the boys case -- they jury's saying that they don't believe that Dick & Tim were assaulting Bruce and he died as a result of the assault. The jury's saying that they believe Dick and Tim intended to murder Bruce. Which is the worst they could say.

Another question I was given was about Tim's sentence -- life without parole (LWP). There's life & LWP. Plain life means the defendant is generally eligible for parole after 25 years. LWP's it -- final -- not see daylight, stay until you die -- sentence.

The aggravating and mitigating circumstances used were those that I posted in an earlier post. Hope this sorts out the legalease.

Char