A/N:  Woot!  Last chapter!  Hee hee…just in time for Christmas!

Seiika Reichi: Hee…wanna end up like James?  *evil grin*  Didn't think so.

Armageddon313: Yup, that's the plan…just waiting for Konami to hurry up and finish SH3…

Ashley Michelle J. Pineapple 4: No particular ending style chosen…well, for SH it was the Bad version, for SH2 it was the Good+ alternate ending, where James turns to Samael and he resurrects Mary.  Sooo…*shrug*

Soviet Inclination: You're absolutely right.  Merci for catching me on that little scrape ^_^; Mucho cookies to you!

Homunculus: Sowwy, I don't give out my email.  But I would be willing to chat on AIM.

Ehe…don't crucify me since the court scene is sorta choppy…didn't wanna offend any (potential) lawyers out there, and since I really don't know how an actual court proceeding works, I had to chop off bits and pieces.  Forgive me, in the spirit of Christmas!!!  ^_^;

So, without further ado, the concluding chapter of Autopsy Report.  If you feel a little unfulfilled, wait before judging, and read the epilogue.  It will make it all worthwhile, I promise.  ^_~

Pax!
~Rumer ("We know who we are, but not what we may be…")

Autopsy Report: Chapter Seventeen

The first hint that I wasn't dead was the pain.  Agony was throbbing in my bones, as though someone had picked me up, thrown me down, and had been wearing cleats when they stomped on me.  What did I do to combat this?  Simple.  I rolled back into total oblivion, and began to drift.  I don't know how far or for how long, but I drifted.  The moon went out, the tide came in, and everything was in total balance.  I felt as if I was part of a painting that had run together, thoughts and emotions tumbling one over the other in cascades.  Bits of speech, music, scrambled about my mind, revealing themselves in short fragments.  With each new fragment, pain came.

Beyond the reach of human range
"-et out of my way, Elw-"
A drop of Hell, a touch of strange
"-ve her alone!  You don't know-"
A different place
"-killed my husband-"
A different time
"-like to file a lawsuit-"
It's the beginning of the end
"-you talking about, Mary?  She-"
Of the entire human race
"-see.  We'll schedule it imme-"
The sun is flickering
"-wouldn't hurt anyone who wasn't trying to hurt her-"
Its fire lost
"-court order.  Would you like to-"
Blood red rivers
"-this way.  The ward for the-"
Lust tainted frost
"-one wants to be her defense…?"
No stars are seen shimmering in this night sky
 "t's done is done, can't you just-"
For it's as dark as forever
"-will regret trifling with me -"
On the day the world died.

In the midst of my confusion, a voice cut through the fog and blinded me with light.  Would someone close the curtains, please?

"Good morning, Kira.  Open your eyes, see the sunlight outside, feel the breeze on your face, hear the little birdies chirping, and smell the mound of unholy shit you're in."

Don't make it bad, take a sad song and make it better…

I opened my eyes, and found myself staring at a really pissed-off looking Jay Haley.  Scary image to wake up to.  Well, I'm not saying that Jay wasn't a scary guy in general, but when he's two inches from your nose, glaring daggers at you, well, that's not the sort of waker-upper that I prefer.  Alarm clocks may be annoying, but they're sure as hell better than a pissed psychiatrist in the wee hours of the morning.  And with the look Jay was giving me, I was half-expecting him to strangle me at any moment.  But his hands were firmly clenched in his lap.  Funny, they looked like they wanted to get ahold of something and choke the life out of it.  Namely me.  I wasn't surprised.  I hadn't lived this long assuming the best.  Assuming the worst was safer, and usually truer.  I knew that for a fact.

"Kira Devereaux, do you have any idea how much shit you're in?"  I blinked, and tried to push away the throbbing that seemed to amass my whole body so I could concentrate.  No such luck, so I looked back.  If looks could kill, I'd have already been dead.  Not a good sign.

"Ah…not really…I sort of just woke up, and truthfully, I feel like crap.  Do you really expect me to think straight?"  I lifted my hand to wipe the sand from my eyes and found that I wasn't able to.  Shifting my gaze from Jay, I saw that my hands were chained to a hospital bed with padded cuffs.  I was tied down at the waist with more pads, and my ankles sported the same (if not larger) cuffs that my hands did.  They were restraining me.  Why in the hell would anyone order my restraint?  I didn't like this at all…and I smelled a rat.  One by the name of Mary Sunderland.

"No, I wouldn't expect you to, Kira," Jay said softly, but still with an edge.  "You've noticed the cuffs.  You're probably wanting an explanation."

"That would be useful…" I relaxed my hands and lay back.  The clean sheets felt good against my bruised, raw skin and I sighed.  This had not been a good year at all.  I'd been beaten, poisoned, shot, bitten, and run over in the space of six months.  There comes a point where you just have too many things happening too close together.  I had battle fatigue.

"According to Dr. Mary Sunderland, you nearly murdered her husband when you shot him with a 10 gauge shotgun.  Also, she says she saw you kill another unidentified woman with your knife, and she accused you of hacking into their computer system.  Those are pretty serious charges, Kira…you'd better have a damn good lawyer to counter Mary's or you'll be put in the pen, easy."

I hadn't heard anything Jay had said after he said I'd 'nearly murdered' James.  "Hold on…did you say, 'nearly murdered'?"

Jay nodded.  "Luckily, the shot just grazed his abdomen, and he's healing nicely.  No infections, nothing too serious.  They didn't even have any lead shot to remove.  He was very, very lucky."  Jay paused a moment.  "The woman, on the other hand, isn't.  You cut her neatly in half, and from her dress and state, she was just a regular bum.  She didn't have any money, weapons, or drugs…an innocent slaughter.  No ID, either, so that makes it very inconvenient.  The hacking was filed because according to Mary, her husband discovered some files missing from his database.  He traced the hacking back to your computer, and you pretty much killed him before he could take it to the authorities.  Also, by the time we got there, you seemed to be hallucinating.  We gave you a blood test and we found drugs in it.  Hallucinogens.  Jesus, Kira!  What in the hell were you doing?"

I thought for a moment.  My face, which had paled considerably during Jay's synopsis, lost whatever color it still had.  "But…I saw his guts explode through his back and hit the wall," I stammered.  Yea, Kira!  Give them the proof they need to make the case! "I slid through them…He was on the ground with a hole in his stomach and the woman was dead before I killed her and I never hacked any computer, someone hacked mine and James force-fed me some concoction in his store- Oh, God…" I turned my head to the side and felt tears welling.  "I never did anything!  Honestly, Jay…I didn't kill anyone…I went to James' store and he knocked me out and he tried to poison me, that must have been the drugs you found…when I tried to get out of there, someone attacked me from the alley and I defended myself…a dog came and chewed on my leg, James blew it apart with a shotgun, then tried to shoot me…I got it away from him but then Mary showed up and I tried to get the gun and James pulled the trigger and he shot himself…"

By this point, I was becoming hysterical.  I could barely speak, and when I did it was coming out high and squeaky, as if I was just then going through the first stages of puberty.  Jay's look of pure loathing melted into seriousness, and God help me, even sympathy.  And for the first time, I appreciated the pity.  Usually I hated anything of the sort, and just sort of brushed it off.  Some days I thought I was becoming a sociopath.  Some days I thought I was already there.

Jay looked deep in thought, and after a moment, he took a set of keys from his pocket and went about unlocking the restraints.

"I don't think you'll need these."  He removed the cuffs gently, almost tenderly, and left me free.  "I'll tell the other doctors not to restrain you for now.  Please, try to get some rest.  The trial isn't until one o'clock tomorrow, and it's six PM now.  Please, Kira, keep your wits about you.  You'll need them."  Wow, Jay was actually being nice.  Then I realized that I needed people like him to keep me sane, to remind me that the world wasn't going to stop spinning because I felt it should.  I hated needing people.  They always had a tendency to die on me.  It wasn't a good situation, but I figured Jay was pretty safe.  He hung out with psychopaths and shrinks for a living, how could he possibly be in danger?  I nearly laughed at that.  But I was too miserable to manage anything but an amused-sounding sob.  I sat up, pulled my knees to my chest, and began to weep.  I hadn't wept in a hell of a long time, and I guess that all the emotion that had been built up just let go when Jay told me that I might be going to prison for crimes I never committed.  Through my sobs, I heard Jay get up and leave the room.  The door clicked closed behind him.  I knew how awful I looked.  Red face, mouth lopsided, nostrils flared, eyes red and puffy.  I'd seen myself crying before, and I didn't like it.  Real crying is like real sex.  If you do it right, it isn't pretty.  And I was doing it perfectly.

After several minutes of wracking sobs, I quieted down and just sniffled and hiccoughed a bit.  My hair was damp and matted; my pajamas were soaked with tears (they give you pajamas in psycho wards, but shower curtains in hospitals.  Wow.), and I highly doubted they'd give me another set.  So, shivering and wet, lungs sore and face soggy, I pulled the blanket around me and slept.

***

For once, I had a dreamless sleep.  Well, if I did dream, I didn't remember anything, because when I woke up, it was morning.  Sunlight was streaming through the glorified portholes of windows, making golden streaks across the white tiled floor.  I sat up and looked around.  The restraints were gone, and I had another blanket draped over me.  Jay, considerate?  Naw.  He probably asked someone else to do it.  No matter.  A patch of green across the room caught my eye, and I tried to focus.  It's never smart to fall asleep with your contacts in.  When my eyes cleared, I saw that there was an ivy green pleated skirt and matching blouse and jacket hung on the back of the door, and there were hose and a pair of black pumps next to them on the tile.  Okay, now I was beginning to get scared.  Where would Jay get pantyhose?  Or pumps, for that matter?  Hell, where did he get ANY of these clothes?  I was hoping he had a wife, or a girlfriend.  I'd never bothered to ask.  Shows me how totally out of the loop I was.  Or maybe how lazy I was.  Take your pick; six in one hand, half dozen in the other.

I looked at the plain clock hanging on the wall.  Ten twenty.  Good, I had time.  I slid out of bed (wincing as my feet hit the ice-cold tile) and slowly made my way to the hanging clothes.  Shuddering a little at the cold temperature in the room, I slid out of my clammy pajamas and into the hose, skirt, and blouse, in that order.  The fit was a little loose on everything (save the hose, those are one-size-fits-all), but who was I to complain?  At least I had something.  And it wouldn't do to show up in court in my tear-soaked PJ's.  Or Elwood's clothes, for that matter.  I smiled a little at the memory.  The clinic was one thing.  I didn't think I'd make a good impression by coming in, wearing someone else's clothes.  People made assumptions, and with men's clothes, it's no exception.  Of course, I wasn't exactly picking clothes from my own closet here, so who was I to be choosy?  'Choosers will be beggars when the begging's not their choosing', and all that jazz.

I left the jacket and the pumps where they were, seeing as I had a few hours left to go before going before the judge.  Wouldn't do to get the jacket wrinkled or the shoes scuffed.  So I sat back down on the bed and ran through exactly what I was and what I wasn't going to say.  Well, without sounding like a total nut case anyway.  I thought about the total truth first.  Usually, people tell you to tell the truth, no matter what.  Eh…in this case, that might not be such a good idea.  I didn't want to spend the rest of my life here, in the mental ward, because I simply told the truth.  So I thought about an altered version, and dropped it.  I also didn't want to spend the rest of my life in a high-security prison.  So I thought, and remembered that it's always the prosecution that goes first in a court setting.  So I'd follow Mary's lead and defend against whatever she had to accuse.  I was always good at improvisation.

***

"All rise, for the Honorable Judge Edward Bowen."

The courtroom all rose to their feet, as if on cue.  So did I, and tried to ignore the aches that still ran rampant throughout my body.  The shoes had been about a size too small, and I winced as I got to my feet.  No matter, I'd be sitting in a moment.  The jacket could have easily hidden a herd of elephants, but again, who was I to be picky?  You take what you can get when you can get it.  It wasn't like I had anything to hide…anymore.  They didn't like someone convicted of murder carrying weapons into the trial.  Rock on, Second Amendment.

My last-minute lawyer was a relatively young female, mid-late twenties.  Her name was Catherine Bell, and she was fresh out of college.  Great.  First, nobody wanted to represent me in court, and second, the only person who will is a first-timer.  Something told me that I was better off defending myself without an attorney.  Something else told me to sit down and shut up.  I went with the latter something.  If I'd have listened to the first voice, I'd have probably run screaming out of the room, probably kicking the ass of everyone who got in my way.  Either that or I'd have wrestled a gun from someone and started shooting.  Hey, with the latter option, I had a chance to fight for my innocence.  The former option was a guaranteed suicide.  So I sat down, and shut up.  Just like a good little girl should.  Me, a good little girl?  Naw. 

I'd seen a few familiar faces in the crowd.  Rook, Jay, and Elwood were both there, acting as sort of a cheerleading squad.  They were there for me, not for them.  Dr. Proudmoore was probably off doing something more worthy of her time.  It didn't surprise me.  She never did like me to begin with.  I also saw none other than JAMES in the crowd.  He was in a wheelchair and was hooked up to several IV's, but he was still functioning.  Damn.  I was beginning to wish that I HAD killed him.  When I caught his eye, he sent me a look of pure and total venom, with just a hint of mocking on the side.  The glare you get when someone is about to say, 'You are in SUCH trouble and when you finally crash and burn I'm going to laugh and laugh and laugh.  You have absolutely no chance.'  Yeah.  That kind of look.  And what bothered me more was that Laura was with him.  The cute, innocent, Laura.  If only I could tell her what was going on- she probably wouldn't understand or even care, but I wanted to do something to help.  As much as I hated kids, I was trying to save one.  Shows how much of a softie I'd become.  A technicality that must be remedied…immediately.  Presuming I'd survive the trial, that is.

Judge Bowen stepped to his position and sat down.  He was an older man, in his forties, with a slightly less-than-fair complexion.  A few wrinkles had made themselves known, but they were the lines of a life well lived.  His thinning hair had once been a bright chestnut, but was now speckled with gray and white.  You could tell from his steel-gray eyes that he'd seen much more than other people, and that most of it wasn't pretty.  Most judges I knew wished that they could erase some portion of their lives, be it from the early or late days.  You just never know how strenuous a job like this gets, and when the media does show it, it tends to be more romanticized and muted.  But one look in this man's eyes would make you forget all the court television shows you'd ever seen.  Why don't people look each other in the eye anymore?  This was probably why.

When Judge Bowen sat, everyone else in the courtroom sat.  So, I did too.  Bowen cleared his throat and stared at me.  "Dr. Kira Devereaux," I took this as my cue to stand up again, "You are charged with one count of murder, one count of attempted murder, and one count of unauthorized hacking into an unauthorized database.  How do you plead?"

I looked the judge square in the eye.  "Not guilty."

Judge Bowen nodded once, then turned his attention to the prosecution.  "Mrs. Sunderland, you may begin."

***

At the near end of the trial, I sat in my chair, hunched over, with my head down on the table in front of me.  I was facing the facts: my life was soon to be over.  The trial, which started out hopeful, had taken a sharp turn for the worst.  And I mean, WORST.  It wasn't as though I could dance around the questions, answering them with questions of my own, oh no.  I'd sworn on the Bible, and though I wasn't a practicing Catholic, I still swore by the good book and kept my word by it.  Religion truly sucks sometimes.  Mary's prosecution  (who just happened to be Mr. Bernardo Ramirez, the most esteemed lawyer in the region) started out with the basic, most absolutely crippling questions.  Such as, "Describe in your own words precisely what happened on the nights these accusations took place.  Give all the details you can."  I gave all the details, and tried to make my story sound as convincing as possible.  But somehow I earned myself several skeptical looks from the room, as well as from the Judge.  Great.  Ramirez asked the same question to Mary when she was on the stand, and somehow her story seemed a LOT more convincing.  Something about taking a trip to see her husband after a long day's work, finding me trying to kill him with a shotgun, and turning it on her when I was done with James.  If that wasn't a load of bull, then what was it?  Certainly not viable, that was for sure.  And when it was Catherine's turn to try to defend me, she absolutely bungled it.  From dropping her notes to taking back things she said, to asking the wrong questions to the wrong person, and calling the Judge 'My Honor'…why didn't someone just shoot me right in the head, right now?  Or better yet: shoot HER.  It would relieve my tension tremendously.  I was beginning to resent not having any weapons.

"Dr. Kira Devereaux."  I raised my head, uncrossed my arms, and stood up, shakily.  I couldn't even feel the pinch of the shoes on my feet anymore.  It didn't matter.  In sheer moments I would have other, much greater troubles.

"Your testimony, though well-given, is absolutely ridiculous.  I do not doubt that you are well-learned and extremely articulate, and though I sensed that you were telling the absolute truth, the truth in your opinion seems to be nothing but utter nonsense.  You stressed that the woman was dead before you killed her, but that makes absolutely no sense.  There are no such things as zombies.  You say you didn't pull the trigger, but we've established from Dr. Haley's testimony that James Sunderland is not suicidal.  An accident, possibly, but you were holding the gun when it was fired, and it was not pointed at you.  Logic states that no other thing could have caused that but the holder on the opposite end.  As for the hacking, Mr. Sunderland's testimony stated that he found your software on his computer, and that he had not tampered with your computer at all.  And all this nonsense about a demon…Dr. Devereaux, every time you opened your mouth, all it was doing was condemning you.  However, I find that your testimony is not that of a guilty woman, or innocent woman, or even…a sane woman.

"Therefore it is the judgment of this court that you be condemned indefinitely to an asylum for the insane.  This court is adjourned."

I felt my heart stop a split second before the gavel sounded.  I heard a voice, screaming, and it took me a moment to realize that it was me.  I was screaming at the top of my lungs, screaming for no other purpose.  The unfairness of it all, the absolute horror of it.  I felt hands grab my arms, and I felt myself being dragged toward the side door, toward the holding facility.  I struggled, tried to say something coherent, but I found it to be absolutely futile.  My mouth had forgotten how to form words, and all I managed were unintelligible syllables.  My ears had forgotten how to hear, and though I knew there was supposed to be a tumultuous noise, I could only manage to hear a dull roar.  I saw Elwood shouting something, Jay was looking furious, and Rook looked pale.  James had a tiny smirk playing across his lips, but he said nothing.  Everything seemed to be in slow motion, and as I was being dragged to the door, I saw Laura run to Mary.  She picked Laura up, said something to her, and kissed her on the cheek.  She was looking straight at me the whole time, and there was a sense of mocking in her cold, unfeeling eyes.  If only I'd had my weapons…

But I didn't.

I stopped struggling and let them take me to the cell.  There came a point where you are just overwhelmed by the helplessness of it all, and you stop fighting the current.  Mary had promised to destroy me if I did anything to stop her, and by God in Heaven, she did just that.  I only wished I could have fulfilled my promise.  However, I was going to be in the nuthouse, keeping my good friend Harry company.

Harry!  …Oh, he was going to love this.

***

I walked down to The Tomb in inmate wear.  The gray shirt over the white undershirt, the matching gray pants.  My number stitched to the pockets.  Jay was in front of me, and we had an escort of armed guards with us.  My hands were cuffed, as well as my feet, and this time I was willing to bet the farm that Jay wasn't going to take those off as a courtesy.  We went down the row of cells at the bottom, and stopped at the last cell, Harry's cell.  It was empty.

"Jay," I managed to croak, "Wasn't Harry Mason in this cell?"

Jay looked at me with the most awkward expression.  He paled a little, then said, "Kira…nobody was in this cell.  It's been empty for almost three years."

I started.  I could feel my eyes widen before I could stop myself.  "There was nobody named Harry Mason here?"

Jay shook his head.  "No.  I'd remember.  I know everyone ever admitted to this block in my administration.  You must be really out of it, Kira."  Which translated to, 'Maybe you really are insane, and I just didn't see it.'  Real comforting, Jay.  Truly.

The cell gate opened, and I obediently stepped in.  I felt hands unlock my ankle cuffs, then my handcuffs.  Then, they closed the gate.  It was then that I hit the low point of my life.  When that bolt slid home, that's when reality hit me.  When you walk that last mile, when you get to your final destination and the whole meaning of it all suddenly hits you…that is when you realize…that it might have or might have not all been for naught.

Well, I sure had a long time to decide which it would be.

And I didn't want to miss a moment of it.

~~~

Go to the epilogue!  This wasn't truly gratifying, I know- but the epilogue will make it worth it.  You shall see.  ^_~