Thanks to Patty, Tammy and Beth O'K for Beta reading this for me. Sorry for the wait. I've been working on it, but with the 2 weeks of pneumonia, it's been slow going. On the upside those who have said some of the last few chapters were too short should be happy that this one isn't. I hope you all enjoy. Char :-)
COURT MARTIAL: Part 20:
"The prosecution calls Batman to the stand."
"WHAT!" Barbara asked whirling to face the prosecutor. Loud murmuring rose from the crowd. Nightwing turned behind him to face his father. Batman stoically remained still only his gaze shifting to Nightwing's. "You can't call Batman for the prosecution," Barbara continued.
"Yes, we can," Lantern countered. "He's a person with knowledge who is in the courtroom. I can call him."
"Any knowledge he has, he acquired as part of the Defense team. Batman is our primary investigator!" Barbara responded indignantly.
"Not when Nightwing confessed to him he wasn't," Lantern countered.
"WHAT!" Barbara shot back. "What are you talking about?"
"You know what that line in Miranda says, counselor, everything you say can and will be used against you. Your client's about to find out how true that is."
"You have absolutely no idea what Batman and Nightwing discussed or when they discussed it. You're trying to go on a fishing exhibition and I'm not going to let you do it!" Barbara retorted.
Green Lantern bent over his table, picked up a small, waiver thin, shiny silver disc and held it up to the court. "I know exactly what he said and when. We have it recorded."
Batman stood and with a perceptible chill, his low voice echoed. "You ... what?"
"We have it recorded, Batman, so if you would please take the stand."
"WHOA! HOLD ON!" Barbara shouted maneuvering her wheelchair to prevent access to the witness stand. "I object to whatever that is."
"You recorded me?" Nightwing asked incredulously as he stood at counsel table. "You recorded me in my cell. Did you record everything? Did you record me talking to Barbara and Wally? You don't have any right -- "
"Sit down, Nightwing!" Barbara ordered before turning to the tribunal. "That ... recording ... was procured through an illegal wiretap and I move to suppress it and any evidence they may have or think they have garnered from that tape. You can't tape record people's conversations without their knowledge."
"It wasn't done without their knowledge," Green Lantern said to the Tribunal. "Batman was very aware of the recording capabilities of the Watchtower. He installed the security system. It was his design. He knows the cells are set up for audio and video recording and he knew those systems were operative before he went to see Nightwing because Batman watched him on the monitors in the monitor womb. He has to testify."
"I do not have to do anything," Batman's deep voice growled out.
"If you refuse to testify, you're in contempt of court and we'll play the recording -- audio and video."
"You won't play anything and he will not testify," Barbara hotly replied.
"Enough," Captain Marvel said stopping things before they further deteriorated. "It's been a long first day. We'll recess until the morning. In the meantime, I expect the prosecution to give the defense a copy of that recording and any other pieces of evidence they have that weren't provided to the defense. Oracle, I expect the same from you. We are not conducting trial by surprise here. Be ready to argue the motion to suppress the tape and the testimony first up in the morning. We're in recess."
The five members of the tribunal filed out the back of the Hall of Justice. Green Arrow turned just before he left the room in time to see Arsenal storming up the center aisle. Green Arrow's mouth twitched upwards before he headed out the door.
"What the hell kind of shit is that?" Roy yelled toward Green Lantern. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
"Hold up, Arsenal," Booster Gold said meeting him at the rope bar. "I'm not letting you start anything in here."
"You aren't letting me Booster. You can't stop me. You better get outta my way."
"ROY! That's enough!" Wally yelled zipping over to them. "Booster's just doing his job."
"Booster's just backing his worthless friend," Roy growled as he and Booster Gold stood nose to nose.
Booter's eyes narrowed. "Ted is far from worthless. You need to calm down, before you say more that you'll regret. Now."
Roy moved closer and his voice dropped. "We all know this is more than just Ted Kord, boy prosecutor. We all know what this is really about. It's about his jonesing for Oracle." Booster's hands closed into tight firsts as Roy continued. "I want to talk to them. They are not railroading my friend!"
Wally's eyes widened and he pulled harder at Roy. "ROY!"
Booster reigned in his temper, his lips narrowed to a thin tight line. "Arsenal. Back. Off."
Roy shook with anger, "Make me."
A humorless Plasticman moved beside Booster. "Enough. That's enough. Arsenal, this is not a playground. You need to back off and cool down before I do make you. Stop being a child or we'll send you home."
Wally was pulling Arsenal back, but was glaring at Plasticman. "No, this isn't a playground and he isn't a child. He's upset with the League's high and mighty manhandling of his friend. Roy was out of line… but he is a hero and not a child. I'm beginning to realize that the League really does think very little of the rest of us."
Plasticman stood beside the rigid Booster and tried to ease the tension. He turned into a giant blow dryer. "Hey, you know me. I'm full of hot air. Besides, Wall, old buddy, old pal, don't look now – but you are one of us."
Wally pushed Roy through the door past Superman. "I don't think so."
Superman shook his head and covered his eyes. Another crack in the League's foundation. He wondered if there would be anything left when this was over. He looked up as Plasticman moved away from Booster, and Superman's eyes drifted over to the defense table as Barbara did a better job of calming an upset Nightwing than Plasticman had done with the Flash.
"How can they tape me Barbara? What else do they have? What else did they listen to?" Nightwing pounded his fist on the table.
Oracle grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at her. "Calm down. I will handle this." Her green eyes seemed to bore into him before he finally sat down. "Trust me, I will handle this."
Batman moved silently through the chaos that had erupted in the courtroom. He had a destination. Nothing was going to get in his way.
Green Lantern stood shaking his head at Harper's loud antics. Harper got under his skin. He turned back toward the prosecution table to grab a book. Startled, Stewart jerked back. He was face to face with the Dark Knight. "How did you ... nevermind." He grabbed his papers and started shoving them into his file folders. The air seemed to ripple with kinetic energy as Batman continued to glare at the other hero. Lesser men would have already dissolved at the stare. "Want something?"
"You will not use me against my son."
"That will be up to the tribunal, Batman. I know its an ugly business but your boy -- "
Batman grabbed his ring hand in a lightning quick move, his grip so hard the ring started cutting into Stewart's skin. "No. You. Will. Not."
"Batman -- " Lantern jerked back, amazed that he couldn't free his hand from the Dark Knight's grip.
Releasing his hold, Batman silently crossed the space back to the defense table. "I will not allow this," he stated simply to Barbara. It was not a request. It was a fact. His hand rested on Nightwing's shoulder. The communication was clear, no verbal exchange was needed. He would not hurt Nightwing.
Barbara wheeled away from the table, "Theodore Kord! I want a word with you!"
"Theodore?" Booster, recovering from his standoff with Arsenal forced a smile, for his friend's sake, and made a face. Then he stuck his tongue out at Ted. "The FULL name. Ooooo you're in trouble. You are SO in trouble now, mister! "
"Shut-up Booster," Ted retorted as he walked to Barbara. "I don't think here is a good place. Why don't I meet you in your quarters and -- "
"Why don't you not. You know you aren't supposed to withhold evidence from us. I can't believe that you would do that Ted. It's despicable. It's --"
"No, Barbara. Despicable is blowing the back of someone's head off. It's playing hero and then stepping aside when you don't like the victim. That's how you define despicable. I was wrong. I should have told you what we had. I thought," he glanced at John then back down at Barbara, "we were only going to use it for rebuttal purposes."
Her green eyes flashed with fury. "I don't care what you thought or planned. You had an obligation to give that to me before sucker punching me with it in the middle of trial. I KNOW Jean told the both of you that. It doesn't matter now whether the tape goes in or not, the five people who are supposed to be looking at this all fresh and new and impartial have now been tainted because they heard that Nightwing confessed to his father. In a normal court, I'd ask for a mistrial but we don't have anyone else to try this case. And you KNOW that! You send me everything you have or plan to even think about trying to use and you do it in an hour." Barbara wheeled around, running over his foot in the process. She headed back to the defense table and turned back to Ted. "Oh, send it by Booster."
They sat in silence in the secure area's conference room as they watched the video feed on the screen Barbara had set up. The only sound came from the scratching of her pen across a pad as Barbara took notes. Dick grabbed the remote and turned it off. He pushed back with such force that the black leather chair toppled when he stood.
"We need to finish watching that," Barbara said sternly pushing up the glasses that were slipping down her nose.
"Tell them I'll take the damn plea." Dick tossed the remote onto the conference table. It slid across the slick surface until it came to rest on the corner of some of Barbara's files at the other end. He threw his hands up as he paced. "This is it!"
"Going to prison for five years is better than playing this recording in court, IF it comes in at all?" she asked pulling her glasses off and laying them and her legal pad on the conference table.
Dick stopped his pacing, his hands clasping behind his head, fingers intertwing. "Yes. Just go tell them I'll take the plea."
"No," she said softly.
Dick's angry blue eyes bore into Barbara, his arms coming to rest on the tabletop as he leaned over toward her. "What. Do. You. Mean. No?"
"It's a simple word, Dick. No is an exclamation giving a negative response."
Dick glared at her before he pushed back from the table. "Dammit! I do not want that displayed for the world. That was a private moment between my father and me! It's like drawing a target on our weaknesses!"
Bruce stood and moved over to Dick. He turned the younger man to him, put his hand on Dick's shoulder, squeezed and made eye contact by tilting Dick's head up. "I don't either. I will not be used against you."
"They just can't ... use that. It's private. It's you and me. And what about all the stuff after the so-called confession. Where Bruce and I talked. Can any of that come in?"
"No," Barbara reassured him. "The only relevant part of the recording deals with you talking about Blockbuster's death."
"But they watched it all." Dick stood near Bruce and ran his hand through his dark hair. "I feel like they violated me ... that they ... "
"I know," Barbara replied. "Look, Dick, I'm going to argue as hard as I can to suppress this, but you have to know that there is a chance it will come in."
"That's why I said take the plea," he retorted.
"But you don't mean that. You don't want to plea you want to fight. Unless you've forgotten how to do that," she stared up at him waiting for his reaction. She saw his eyes narrow and his jaw set. Barbara knew she had won, but she wouldn't smile. She had worked with the bats long enough to know that they had to think they were in control. "Good, now let's get back to work."
Batman entered his private quarters, stormed across the room and punched the wall with his powerful fist. It released some of his frustration, but not enough to ease the worry from his soul. Pulling the cowl back, he threw it across the room. The day had not gone as well as he hoped and he feared tomorrow would be even worse.
Selina came out of the bedroom and watched him for a moment before speaking. "How is he?"
Bruce recovered and drew his fist back under the cape, closing the cape around him. "Fine."
She walked over and started massaging his neck and shoulders. "You're so tense."
Bruce pulled from her hold walking away. "I'm fine."
Crossing her arms, she turned to look at him. "Ri-ight. Bruce look, this is me. You don't have to keep the walls up with me. I know you're upset. I know Dick's upset."
"Upset? That doesn't even begin to cover it. They recorded us when we were in the cell. They recorded our private conversation when I was trying to reach him ... when he was so hurt. They know everything we said to each other and now they want to use it against him. They are going to use it all against him."
"Is it ... that bad?"
"He confessed ... I made him tell me everything."
Selina closed her eyes as a shudder filtered through her body. "But Bruce, he didn't know what he was doing that night. You told me how upset he was."
"All they'll hear is the confession. That he walked away and she shot Desmond. They'll see all his pain as weakness and he'll be lost. All because I made him open up. I made him. I forced him to report like it was just another case. I thought I was helping him."
"You were helping him," she replied as she moved closer to him. "They can't ... can't use that. I mean that was a private conversation. You didn't know they were recording you."
Bruce shook his head and sighed. "But I should have known they were. I set up the surveillance of the cells, so I knew the function was there and because I used the camera earlier to check on him, I knew it was operating. I just ... I never thought that it would be used like that."
"You're his father. Isn't there some parent child privilege or something?" Selina asked pacing around the room with her arms flailing about.
Bruce shook his head. "I don't know what to do. ... I do not know what to do." He exhaled a deep breath. "I haven't felt like this since ... since ... this is how I felt ... the night ... my parents died. The day ... that Jason died ... when I held him in my arms. I have no control over this situation and I do not know what to do about it." He melted down into the sofa, his head resting in his hands.
Selina stopped and looked at him. His pain, helplessness, and frustration broke her heart. It also made her angry. "Do you want that disc to disappear? You know I can get it."
He looked up at her with his patented half smile, "I know you can ... but no. They'd know it was us."
"Do we even care at this point?" she asked, hands resting on her hips.
"They have back ups and back ups of the back up," Bruce answered shaking his head. He was not about to be defeated. He had another idea. "No, if something is going to disappear, it'll be Dick. I've had enough of this. The Titan's plan has some merit."
"Before or after they play the tape?" she asked sitting beside him on the black leather sofa.
"Before ... I'm not putting him through this."
"Will he go?" she asked.
Bruce looked at her surprised. "Of course."
"Are you sure?" Selina asked him. Their eyes locked with each other and the words hung heavy in the air. Nothing was sure about this situation. Nothing at all.
"I still do not know what you are thinking, John!" Jean Lorring repeated exasperated as she slammed her fist on top of the files in the conference room they had commandered as the prosecution's war room. "I thought we had all agreed that we would not use that recording unless we needed it for rebuttal or cross."
"It was the perfect time to use it. Call Batman, throw them off guard, and put in his confession," John replied casually as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He watched the tendrils of smoke float from the rim of the cup as he poured creme into the hot liquid changing the stark blackness into a warm carmel color. He closed his eyes and took in the aroma before taking a sip and heading to their main work table.
"He doesn't say anything more on that disc to Batman than he said to Superman. It is not a smoking gun." She straightened and walked around the table and gesturing in the air. "I already told you and Ted that. I am not convinced this thing is even admissible and I have a feeling it's going to blow up in your face."
"Jean," John started, "I'm a warrior. Sometimes you have to take the risky moves to win the battle." He sat at the table and leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Calling Batman to the stand is not a risky move. It's suicidal." She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him over her small black rimmed glasses.
"I'm not scared of Batman," he growled out sitting his coffee cup down.
"Then you are stupid," she countered throwing her head back. She wanted to scream at his irritating confidence. "Ray has told me about that man. Anyone ... hell everyone ... should be scared of him."
John shook his head. "Yes, he's a formidable opponent in a fight. But he's a good man."
"Then why are you doing this to him?" she asked.
"I didn't do this to him. Nightwing did this to him. Nightwing caused all of this because he wouldn't do his job. He and Tarantula blew a man's brains out. Good guys don't do that. That boy caused all of this. Batman's pain, what he's having to go through, it is all on Nightwing. He raised him better, he raised him to be better, and look at what he did. Nightwing threw it all back in his face when he committed murder. He threw it all back on all of us."
"Care to explain?" Jean asked as she pulled her dark rimmed glasses off and laid them on the stack of files to her left.
"Nightwing was the one we all trusted. The one to take over if the League goes down. Why? Because he was trained by the best to be the best. Because he's proven what a leader he can be. Because of his goodness and his morality. And what does he do? He throws it all away because it got hot in the kitchen. He's not the first hero to have his identity found out. Not the first one to have family and loved ones threatened. Hell I ... others ... have had loved ones killed by the bad guys. But we don't resort to murder. We don't take the law into our own hands. He did. Now he has to pay the price for it."
"You're NOT going to let them do this!" Roy shouted over the din of the water beating from the shower.
"We are not having this discussion," Ollie's voice echoed from inside the shower stall.
"The hell we aren't! You are not going to let Stewart play this in court. You aren't going to do this to Dick!" Roy leaned against the wall by the towel rack crossing his arms across his chest. Seeing Ollie opening the door, he handed him his towels.
"Roy, shut the hell up," Ollie said as he wrapped one towel around his waist, threw another towel around his shoulders and walked out of the shower. "I can't even relax for five minutes, can I?"
"No one else can! Why should you be any different than the rest of us!" Roy yelled as he followed his mentor from the bathroom into the bedroom.
"It'd be nice to take a shower without being yelled at."
"This is serious, Ollie!" Roy yelled slamming his fist on the dresser.
"I know that! You don't have to tell me that. I understand what's going on. But I'm NOT supposed to be making my decisions on that panel to satisfy one of my kids. That's not my job."
"Ollie -- " Roy started to protest. He stopped when the Emerald Archer stuck his index finger in his face, almost tapping Roy's nose.
"Shut up! I'm not finished. I don't like the idea of them recording a private conversation between Bruce and his kid. It's wrong on so many levels. I sure as hell don't like the idea of them having watched it and now wanting to play it for the world. I know how I'd feel if it was you and me. I'm not voting to let that in; but it's not my call. We decided that Cap would make the legal rulings on the objections. He's read up on the rules and procedures. Now, I can voice my dissatisfaction and I can yell to high heaven, and I guarantee you I will, but it's not my call."
Dick sat on his bunk, back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him. He looked to his right at the papers on the table. He didn't want to look at them any more. Reaching down to his side, he pulled out a Snickerdoodle, brought it up to his lips and crunched into it, enjoying the sweet cinnamon cookie crumbling and melting into his mouth. He smiled. Nothing like a little touch of home to make him smile, even here, even after today. Alfred had long left but Dick had to make the gesture once again anyway, even to the empty space. "Thanks Alfred," he whispered aloud.
His head looked up at the sound of the massive door opening. He threw his hand up in greeting as Bruce walked in the door. Bruce stood silently, just watching him as the door closed behind him. When it locked, Bruce turned slamming a mechanical star shaped object onto the door.
"What's that?"
"Interference. Short circuits their surveillance equipment."
"You came up with that today, didn't you?"
"Yes."
Dick grinned. "I knew it. Have a cookie."
Bruce's eyebrow arched. "No time. We have a busy night."
"We are?" Dick asked biting into another cookie.
Bruce nodded. "Your friends have a plan for you to escape. Selina and I had our own plan. Both have some merit, I've adapted the best parts from both to a foolproof plan. We're leaving tonight. We will be utilizing the Outsiders' Pequod and --"
"No."
"No? You don't want to use the Pequod?"
"No. You know the simple exclamation giving a negative response," Dick parroted Barbara's words. "First, taking the Peqoud will play havoc on the sex lives of the twentysomethings of the hero set. You have no idea where that back seat's been," Dick said, then laughed at Bruce's confused look. "Besides, I'm not going anywhere."
"Dick," Bruce began with a sigh. "We do not have to put up with this. We do not have to --"
"I do. I do have to put up with this. I have to go through this. I'm on trial. I don't have a choice." Dick was matter of fact about his situation. He leaned back against the wall continuing to eat his cookies. It had been a while since he had savored any of Alfred's cookies.
"Yes. You. Do. We're leaving." Bruce was adament. He headed toward the door and turned to find Dick still sitting on the bunk.
"No. I'm sorry, but no. I can't act like the rules don't apply to me. They do. I don't like this. I am not at all enjoying this and the thought of having to watch our private moment played out in front of the world makes me sick to my stomach. But I --"
"You didn't kill Desmond and don't even start to say you did." Bruce was angry. The situation made him angry. He was not in the mood to deal with Dick's stubborn resistance to his plans.
"Yes sir. But I turned myself in to go through the process. Guilty or innocent, I need to be tried and judged. And while I love you for wanting to protect me from that, I have to do this. Can you understand?" Dick looked up at Bruce. He watched as Bruce's jaw flexed. Watched as anger changed to resigned acceptance.
Bruce sighed. "I am ... very ...very ... proud ... of you." He moved over and sat on the bunk beside Dick, his shoulders slumping slightly.
Dick smiled. "Thanks. I'm not sure I deserve it, but it feels good." He held the box of cookies out to Bruce and the two of them sat, enjoying the quiet normalcy of sharing a sweet together. The calm before what promised to be a tempest.
"This is the most vile attempted perversion of the law that I have ever witnessed!" Barbara Gordon all but shouted before the tribunal. "It is incredible that the prosecutors are coming into the Hall of Justice claiming they have the right to play a private conversation between a father and his son because Batman should have known he was being recorded. It's unconscionable and should not be allowed by this Court."
"I understand Oracle's persistence at trying to keep out this damning piece of evidence against her client. But the facts are the facts. Batman installed the surveillance system in the Watchtower including the surveillance systems of the cells in the secure area. Prior to going into the cell to speak with Nightwing, he was in the monitor womb and watched Nightwing on the surveillance cameras," Green Lantern countered.
"But he did not know that the audio recording device was working. When Batman was in the monitor womb, he watched Nightwing. He did not hear anything and had no reason to believe that the audio part of the equipment was working. Further, he is Batman -- one of the primary League members -- there was no reason for him to believe that his private conversation with his son would be recorded. The surveillance equipment was set up to monitor dangerous criminals whom the League may be holding to prevent escape attempts; not to conduct illegal wiretaps of League members." Oracle argued.
Batman's eyes bored into the Tribunal. He was watching every face, every movement, trying to learn their respective positions on the recording. His jaw flexed. Batman reached up, placing his hand on Nightwing's shoulder. He watched as the young man's body seemed to relax, the tension melting away at the comforting touch.
Lantern pressed the issue further, "Regardless of the recording or its inclusion, Nightwing confessed to Batman. There is no parent-child privilege like priest-penitent or spousal privilege. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Nightwing said it and we can use it."
Roy grumbled from his seat in the back of the courtroom, "Ooooo Stewart learned a new word penitent, bet he has no clue what that means!" He was angry and sarcasm was an outlet for his anger.
Garth smacked him on the arm, "Shuttup Roy! Or we'll get evicted from the courtroom." His eyes turned back to watch the proceedings going on at the front of the room.
"You only know about it because of the recording," Barbara interjected. "That disc is excludable because it was illegally procured and thus anything you know about because of the recordingf is excludable as fruit of the poisonous tree."
"I'm not conceding that the anything was illegally procured. I think it is completely valid and completely admissible." Stewart was confident he had learned Jean's lesson's well.
"You would," Barbara retorted.
"Counsel," Captain Marvel's deep voice brought the two bickering parties attention back to the Tribunal they argued before. "Let's not argue amongst ourselves. What I am interested in is how does this confession differ from that Nightwing already made to Superman?"
"It's more detailed. It states specifically what Nightwing's state of mind was at the time of the murder," Lantern answered.
"Regardless of what you claim it shows, and it doesn't show what you claim, there's an additional consideration. Batman is a part of the defense team. He's our lead investigator, just like Elongated Man is the prosecution's lead investigator. As such, any communications between them are covered by the attorney-client privilege."
"Batman was not part of the defense team at the time of the confession. If the Tribunal will remember the morning after the confession was made to Batman, Nightwing was the one who was stating on the record that he didn't have a defense and did not want a defense," Stewart stated.s
"Batman was the only one standing with Nightwing at counsel table during the first appearance. The entire Justice League knew he was going to defend Nightwing with everything he has that's why you all called in Elongated Man to canvas the alleged crime scene," Barbara contradicted him.
Captain Marvel held up his hand silencing Green Lantern from saying anything further. The arguments between the two would be unceasing. He had to make a decision ... right or wrong. Both of their arguments had merit. But this was a search for justice, a search for truth, and that could not be harmed from seeing everything. "The defense's motion to surppress is denied."
A loud gasp escaped the audience. Barbara's face seemed to be an emotionless mask, but for the slight nipping of her bottom lip. "Exception," she stated as she wheeled back behind her table. She didn't turn to her right. Barbara did not want to see Dick's face at the moment. She would not be able to go through with this if she did. "Your honors, I move that the courtroom be cleared for Batman's testimony and the playing of this recording. There is no need for the entire world to watch what we all know was a private moment between father and son. No one but counsel, the accused, the witness and the Tribunal have need to be here for this." Her eyes met Captain Marvel's.
He nodded in assent. "Defendant's motion to close the courtroom for this testimony is allowed. We'll be in recess for fifteen minutes."
Garth smacked Roy on the arm as they stood up to leave. "See!"
Roy looked over his shoulder to Garth. "What? I didn't even say anything yet, but I WILL."
"What do you mean I can't go back in?" Roy yelled at Plastic Man who stood outside the door to the now closed courtroom next to a scowling Captain Atom.
"You were in there when they ordered everyone out," Eel replied as he thumbed over his shoulder at the door. "Booster, Captain Atom, and I are providing security so we're making sure no one else tries to get back in."
Captain Atom crossed his arms. "No. One."
"But Oracle said counsel was allowed. I'm part of the defense team and --" the red headed archer was explaining. He was trying desperately not to loose his temper – again, but everyone seemed to be desperately trying to piss him off.
Plastic Man was having none of the explanation. "You aren't one of his counsel Harper. You're not sitting up front." Plastic Man turned into a very large red and black circle with a slash through it -- the universal no sign.
Roy's chest expanded as he pointed his finger at Plastic Man. "Listen you overgrown rubber band, I am going in and I'm going -- " A crackle of energy from Captain Atom as his eyes flared stopped the conversation as another voice interrupted.
"To stay out here and behave," Flash's voice said from behind Roy. He stood his ground when his friend turned scowling face toward him. "Eel is right. You are a part of the defense team but you aren't one of Dick's counsel. So you can't go in. Sorry."
"That's a crock of crap," Roy shouted as he moved into Wally's face. Before he could finish his sentence, Wally had grabbed him and zipped off to another side of the Watch Tower so they could talk in private. "Where are we? And why are we here?"
"We're somewhere we can talk in private," Wally said seriously.
Roy snorted. "There's no private on this big brother. They record everything or did you forget."
Wally pulled his mask off and glared at his friend. "Look, Dick doesn't want everyone seeing this video."
"I'm not everyone!"
"I know that," Wally sighed as he spoke. "He doesn't want anyone seeing the disc, least of all his friends. He didn't want me seeing it. He hates that I did. And Roy, you don't want to see this recording."
"Does he say anything different than what he told us?" Roy asked. His anger masked the bundle of nerves rumbling around his stomach. He felt sick, not that he would admit it to anyone, even himself. "How bad is it?"
Wally shook his head. "It's the same story. It's just the emotion is so raw. And it's Dick and his dad." Wally held up his hand stopping Roy's usual tirade about Batman's parental abilities. "He is Dick's dad and he was his father in that room that night. And it sucks that they get to play that. They should never see it. I never should have seen it." Wally's voice raised as the anger surged within him. "I should've cut the monitors off when Batman left to go see Dick. I was in the monitor womb. I was looking at the monitors ... at Dick. But I didn't have any sound and I didn't realize the stupid machine recorded and kept everything." He pounded the walls with his balled up fists, his frustration reverberating around him.
Roy's hand gripped Wally's shoulders and turned the speedster to face him. "It's not your fault, Wally. It's not. Dick doesn't blame you. He doesn't blame any of us."
"It doesn't stop me from blaming myself."
Roy looked at the cold metal walls and then back at Wally, "If you want someone to blame, blame them. The Justice League is now operating worse than the Bat ever did. Who we are or what we've done in the past doesn't matter. We aren't heroes, we're the lessers to be disposed. I'm afraid Wally, that that is exactly how they see Dick. He WAS good enough to lead them. But now, he's disposable because nothing in the past matters. He's not even getting the benefit of the doubt. I don't understand how you can be a part…of them."
Wally turned back to Roy. "I don't either."
The courtroom was virtually empty during the recess. Nightwing sat alone at the defense table. He stretched his arms over his head and twisted his neck trying to pop the tension knots that had formed. His deep blue eyes fell on the prosecution table and the huddle of Jean Loring and John Stewart. Plotting his doom, he thought as a sigh escaped his lips. Nightwing looked down at the tabletop and drummed his fingers in nervous apprehension.
Batman stood near the door at the entrance to the Hall of Justice. Silently, he watched Nightwing at the table. He could read Nightwing's emotions by his very movements. Batman's eyes turned toward the prosecution table and he glared at Stewart. Breathing deeply, he strode confidently to stand beside his son. Holding his hand out toward an empty chair, he asked, "May I?"
Nightwing nodded. "Please. I'd like the company."
Batman sat down and stared into Nightwing's face. "I'm not certain I should go through with this." He pulled the cowl from his face.
"What other choice do you have?"
Bruce raised an eyebrow incredulously. "If I left, then they would have to delay admitting that recording into evidence ... since I have to be here. Then we would have time to --"
"No," Dick replied shaking his head. "No. I'm not running. I don't like this but ... you taught me not to run away from a fight. Stewart wants to make this personal, wants to make this a fight. We'll give him one."
"Maybe that's not the lesson I should've taught." Bruce turned his gaze toward the tribunal table and the five empty chairs. Chairs of the people who held Dick's fate in their hands.
Dick gave Bruce a sad look. "I know you don't mean that."
Bruce looked back at Dick then looked down. He studied the material on the chair arm. His brain, unbidden, ticked off the type of material, the rarity, the known manufacturers. "Perhaps," he replied in a hushed tone. Then he looked up into the face of his son. "They will not use me to hurt you."
Dick smiled. "I know that. No matter how hard they try."
Bruce glanced toward the prosecution table. Loring was standing with arms braced against the table. She was speaking in low tones to a seated Stewart. Batman noticed her posture was stiff, and she was ticking something off with her fingers. Heat rose in his cheeks as his anger reached a boiling level. "I could strangle Stewart."
"That wouldn't solve anything and then you'd be sitting here," Dick solemnly replied.
"I would gladly take your place."
"I know you would," Dick gave his father a slight smile. "But I made my bed, I'll suffer the consequences of my actions."
Bruce looked back over at the prosecution table and tried to read their posture, before turning back to Dick. "Even when you're free and acquitted, I will not be able to work with him. Roy is correct. He's no Hal."
Dick looked at Bruce and almost rolled his eyes. "You don't like Hal."
"I don't like what Hal became, what he did. But I respected him until his illness. I don't like what Harvey has become, but I respected Dent as a man and a lawyer. Stewart I don't respect. Not now. It makes me wonder about things ... like why he has a rabid dislike for you. Kord thinks you're guilty and I understand why he is doing this. But Stewart ... Stewart is leading the band like he has something to make up for. I don't trust him."
Dick shrugged. "It's just that he thinks I'm guilty too." He shrugged his shoulders again. "Maybe I am guilty."
"Stop! You are guilty of only one thing ... being too honorable."
"I don't feel honorable ... not listening to their case," sighing, he shook his head and looked down again.
"Listen to their case, Dick. Really listen to it. You turned yourself in, you tried to protect Tarantula, you fought Blockbuster hurt because it was the right thing."
Dick ran his hand through his thick hair, "I dunno." He swiveled his chair slightly. He wouldn't look at the man sitting beside him at the table.
"I do. I know. Dick ... I ...," he titled Dick's chin up so they faced each other. "I do know. I know exactly the kind of man who could do what they said. And you're not him. Not even close. I believe in you because we were and are partners." Bruce gave Dick a half smile. "You were my first Robin, I know you inside and out. I know you better than I know myself. I know what kind of man you are. I've seen it."
Dick took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. "I wish I was the man you think I am."
"You don't have to wish. You are." Bruce's black gloved hand gripped Dick's as they sat there in silence. The presence of each comforted the other. They continued to sit in silence as the room became occupied with the Tribunal. Stewart and Loring took their seats. Barbara wheeled to her spot at the defense table as Bruce pulled his cowl back on. He stood allowing Flash to retake his seat.
"Batman, if you would take the stand," Captain Marvel said.
Batman stood as tall as he could, his presence seemed to overtake the great hall. His footsteps seemed to echo throughout the vastness of the now almost empty chamber. With cape swishing around him, he took his seat.
"If you would ... um ... place your hand in the lasso," Marvel stated. All eyes watched as Batman sat motionless in the chair. Green Arrow's mustache twitched every so slightly. "It's to ensure truthfulness in the testimony --"
"I know what it is for. Are you saying I can't be truthful?" Batman glared at the man questioning him. It was a glare most men cowered under.
Captain Marvel, however, was not an ordinary man. However, he was uncomfortable with this situation, as was everyone in the room. "No, we are not. It's just that --"
Batman turned toward Green Lantern, "Ask your questions."
Green Lantern glared. "He has to place the lasso on. It's the rule."
"Make me," Batman ground out through clenched teeth.
"Just ... ask your questions Lantern," Captain Marvel sighed.
"Very well. Permission to treat the witness as hostile," Lantern asked the tribunal members.
"He's made one astute comment today," Batman replied under his breath. He steepled his gloved fingers in front of him and stared at Green Lantern.
"State your name for the record," Lantern asked from his table.
"..."
The room sat in awkward silence for minutes, no one saying anything. Barbara groaned as she pulled off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Flash tapped his foot so fast it vibrated through the titanium floor. Jean shook her head and flipped through her evidence book as Ted moaned. Green Arrow actually cracked a smile before the Martian Manhunter elbowed him in the ribs. Diana and Arthur shared an annoyed look as they waited for someone to do something. To break the loggerjam that had occurred.
John Stewart's jaw flexed as he stood from his chair. His arms straight, fists balled on the table. Still, he said nothing. He stared at Batman, and then he would stare at Captain Marvel. He waited for the Court to force the witness to answer.
Captain Marvel sat silently. He knew they were all waiting on him to speak. Knew he needed to order Batman to answer the question. He also had the wisdom to know that Batman took orders from no one. The world's mightiest mortal also knew only one voice in the room could entice Batman to testify. Silently, he waited for him to speak.
Nightwing had looked at the tabletop from the time Batman moved from the Flash's chair to the witness stand. He had avoided looking at anyone in the room. He wanted to avoid the situation. But the silence in the room was deafening and he was unable to avoid it. It was just better to get it over with. Finally, Nightwing looked up, his eyes meeting Batman's. "It's okay. Do this."
Batman's eyes were locked on Nightwing. Sighing he nodded then turned his head to Green Lantern. "Batman. Finish. Now."
"I'll get right to it then," Stewart answered him. "Batman, isn't it true that Nightwing confessed that he killed Roland Desmond? That he was responsible for his death?"
Batman's jaws clenched and his eyes narrowed. "... He said --"
Stewart tried to pounce. "Yes or No. Didn't Nightwing confess that he was responsible for Roland Desmond's death, that he caused it, that he was glad he was dead. Didn't he?"
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
