Dawn's direct-exam was nothing compared to the cross-exam Dean knew he would have to endure from the prosecutor. During his time on the stand, apart from looking to Caleb for reassurance, he also could not help shifting his gaze to the prosecutor. He had had his hands steepled in front of his face, and when he was not doing that he was writing down points in his notebook that he would use to bolster his cross-exam. Whatever he planned, Dean did not like the idea of going up to face him. Dawn promised him that she would deflect as many questions as she possibly could, and that gave him the slightest bit of reassurance. After eating a small lunch with Bobby, they were back in the courtroom for the second part of the day. Glancing over at Caleb as he was called back to the stand, he saw him give him an encouraging thumbs up.
Accepting the water bottle the bailiff passed to him, he took a soothing sip to quell the unease that was pummeling through him like a wrecking ball. Once the prosecutor got started with his intense questions, he knew he would have to possess an incredible amount of self-control to avoid losing it and defending Caleb the way he wanted to. With Dawn, it had been easy to sit up on the stand and answer her questions. It was like he was talking to a trusted friend, and in many ways she was one of those people. Staring at Mark Williamson as he finalized his questions before finally standing up to approach Dean, he tried to erase the intense distrust that was coloring his emotions. Dawn warned him that this part of the day would be the most challenging, and had given him coping strategies.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to look Mark right in the eyes and avoid doing any of the non-verbal cues Dawn counseled sometimes warned a witness might be lying. However, it was Dean's M.O to either retreat into himself when faced with a stressful situation, or massage his arms, or even pace. There, he could not do any of that without casting suspicion on himself. The air in the room seemed to have grown warmer in the few seconds since he took the stand, and Dean could only imagine what he would feel like if the cross-exam took a long time.
"Okay," Mark said, clasping the edges of the podium. "Do you know the difference between a truth and a lie?"
Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Y-yes."
The last thing he wanted was to ruin Caleb's case with a careless sarcastic remark. Clearly, his restraint paid off. The prosecutor nodded slowly, and prepared for the next question. In those few seconds, he glanced over at Caleb and tried to gather strength from him.
"And do you know what it means to lie on the stand?"
"It's called perjury." This time, Dean allowed a bit of snark to color his response.
To his shock, Mark smiled, but quickly hid it. To his left, Caleb had hid his own smile behind his hand. He had a feeling the prosecutor would not allow him to slide that easily in the future. Feeling his legs shake, he looked over at Bobby and saw his calm expression staring back at him. The hunter would not allow him to feel any of the rage that he knew he was feeling.
"Most of my questions to you will focus on the marks on you and your brother, and toward the end we might discuss the events surrounding what led to why we are all here today."
That was what Dean knew was going to happen, but it did not make it any easier. The prosecutor would hammer him with the details surrounding the bruises, and would want him to admit to things that were not even true. Reminding himself to stay calm for the sake of his guardian was hard, but he managed it when he gripped his water bottle and took a longer than normal drink. He would need all the distraction he could muster.
"Okay." Bring it, he thought.
"The marks in question, the one on your upper arm, was caused by a fall on the ice, is what you're saying?"
"Yes."
"And you can say the same thing for the other marks on your body? One on your other arm, and one on your chest?"
Dean raised an eyebrow; that was a new disclosure. "My-my chest?"
Mark nodded solemnly. "Permission to approach the witness, your honor?"
Before he even got the chance to, Dawn had stood up. "Your Honor, Counsel is inquiring about something that the defense did not receive any information about. For him to question the witness without the other side even having this information is premature."
The judge considered the question, but Dean felt sick. All along the case had centered around marks on him and Sam, but he never even knew there was a question about marks on his chest. Of course, he knew what the marks in question were all about, but that would mean he would have to come up with a satisfactory answer on the spot. Finally, the judge seemed to have made up his mind.
"I'll allow it."
Forcing his expression into a neutral one, Dean accepted the photographs Mark held out for him to take. Staring down at them, he saw what looked like scratch marks on his chest that came down to almost his stomach. The uppermost ones were the most serious, and what the prosecution had undoubtedly focused on. Those marks had come from a brief scrap with a monster they had happened upon right before the call to CPS had been made. He had escaped the confrontation with nothing but those marks, but he knew what it looked like.
"They came from a walk in the woods."
"A walk in the woods?" Mark repeated. "How does a mark happen like that? Our doctor examined the photographs, and the placement of the mark looks like a scratch from either an animal, or an adult."
Hearing his insinuation was hard, but even harder when he realized that he was talking about his guardian and confidante. "I was walking, and I wasn't looking where I was going. My brother and I, we were rough-housing and I got my shirt snagged on a branch."
"And this 'branch' just so happened to turn you around and mark up your chest? That is, of course, if you were walking right beside the branch and didn't walk in front of it-"
"Objection!" Dawn said, standing up. "Your Honor, he is trying to coerce a statement out of this witness that he wants to hear."
"Sustained. Rephrase."
Mark was frustrated, Dean could tell, and took a second to compose himself before trying again. "Do you remember when this incident happened?"
"About a month or two before everything happened."
"Okay, and for the mark on your arm, you said you hit it on the ice?"
"Yes."
"Does it strike you as odd that you have similar answers to every injury that you have on your body?"
Dean sorely wanted to inform this man of what exactly caused those marks, but he knew it would do no good whatsoever. "I can't help it if it's true. It is true, and that's what happened."
Mark nodded slowly. "And is it true that these incidences happened to coincide with your breaks from school? And other unexplained leaves? Such as, the mark on your chest happened during the week of your spring break. The mark on your arm, however, seemed to have happened over a longer stretch of time as seen from the changes in the healing process and colorization of the marks. This would suggest a timeline of Christmas break. Is that true?"
It was true Dean had gotten the most serious mark over winter break, and it was horrifying to know the timeline Mark was trying to establish. Looking over at Caleb, he saw him shake his head in barely concealed rage. Dawn, on the other hand, was writing something down in her notepad, trying to come up with another angle to approach the prosecution for her next objection. Taking comfort from the fact that Dawn was doing her best to make this go smoothly for him, he tried to remember that he had no choice but to answer that question honestly. More than likely, Mark already knew the timeline and was just trying to get him to confirm the details.
"Y-Yes."
"Is it true that these marks were never seen by a doctor?"
"Yes, but-"
"And you had trouble moving it, is that right?"
"Sometimes, but listen-"
Mark, however, continued as though there had been no interruption. "I have a hard time believing the defendant only found out about your mark the day of the CPS call. Especially when it was in such bad shape."
"Believe what you want," Dean snapped, losing his patience. "I know the truth, and my family does and that's what matters."
"And what is the truth?" Mark prompted, slowly pacing the room.
"I got the bruise from falling on the ice," Dean answered, his voice shaking. "Caleb had nothing, nothing to do with it. I didn't tell him until it was too late. I hid it under my jackets and sweatshirts."
Wishing more than anything he could take a break, he steadied himself by looking into Caleb's steady gaze. He knew his guardian was feeling the same thing he was, but he was also not willing to make Dean more upset than he already was.
"And what about when you told Caleb Rivers about the bruise? What did he say? What did he do?"
"He was making plans for me to see a doctor. Especially when I couldn't beat his ass at our workouts."
Mark Williamson seemed to be switching tactics. He strutted back to his desk and peered down at his notes. Wishing he could see what was written on them, he looked back at Caleb. "It's okay," Caleb mouthed. "Just hang tight."
Nodding to him, Dean focused on maintaining what little self-control he still possessed.
"Our doctors who have examined the photographs have all come to the conclusion that they were caused by a human hand grabbing the arm. It is not consistent with a fall."
"I can only tell you what I know."
"So," Mark said, moving on. "In the time that you have lived with Caleb Rivers, he has never hit you or gotten physical?"
"No. Never. Apart from our workouts where we do hand to hand combat, never."
Giving him what could only be described as a smug look, Mark approached the podium. "So, your neighbor must have been lying when she witnessed Caleb doing more than hand-to-hand combat? To her, it appeared as though he was being aggressive and even violent when he flipped you."
"We get rowdy sometimes, but it was not abusive."
"So, the neighbor-"
"Your Honor," Dawn interjected. "The witness has already answered the question."
"Sustained."
Grateful the judge called for a recess, Dean got down off the stand as quickly as he could. After the break, he knew he would have to finish the testimony but he did his best to push it from his mind. Pacing the lunch area the court had set up for them, he chugged down his soda and devoured his soda. Bobby was studying him, but he knew he was trying to give him the mental space he needed. Seeing Caleb in the courtroom, and apart from the brief touch they shared, knowing he would not be allowed to hug him and take him home with them, was impossible to digest. At least he did not have to worry about Sam in all this. Ellen had come to the house, along with Jo, and were keeping him plenty busy with different activities.
Once the break was over, which was too soon in his mind, he was back on the stand. He had no clue where the prosecution's questions would next lead, but he was prepared for anything.
"Did you ever see the defendant hit or slap or push your brother, Sam Winchester?"
Dean shook his head, and then realized Mark was actually expecting an answer. "No. Absolutely not."
"Was Sam coached by Caleb Rivers to lie to Diane Ward-"
"Objection," Dawn interrupted. "He is asking this witness to speculate."
"Sustained," the judge decided, giving Mark a sharp look. "Move on."
It was clear that was not the answer Mark wanted, but he wisely chose not to raise an issue. "Have you ever observed marks on your brother apart from marks sustained during sports?"
Dean shook his head. "Never."
"And does your brother engage in the same 'combat' that you and the defendant engage in?"
Dean shrugged, taking a sip of his water. "Sometimes."
It had been their desire to transition Sam into the life slowly, and as a result he had not had the same training as his older brother had had.
"Okay, and did the defendant ever deny Sam medical care when it was warranted?"
Dean raised his eyebrow. "Why would he?"
After that, Mark tried to pull Dean into an interrogation about the night of Caleb's arrest, but had been blocked from doing so by the judge. Once that final nail had been driven into the coffin, his testimony was over. As much as he hated to leave the courtroom and not know when he would get the chance to see Caleb again, he was also glad to be going home. Striding out of the courthouse with Bobby, he wrapped his arms around himself and tried to keep his plethora of emotions under wraps. The sun was beginning to set by the time they arrived back at the safe house, surprising him. He had testified all day, first with Dawn and then with Mark. He had a feeling Mark had wanted to hammer him more forcefully, but had refrained due to his age and Dawn's protectiveness over him.
Leaning his head back against the seat of the car, he was glad Bobby did not try to push conversation with him. He was sure he would have been unable to respond if he had anyway.
The interrogation he had been subjected to on the stand, left Dean emotionally, as well as physically exhausted. It had been one thing to endure Dawn's direct-exam, which had been easy on him, and not nearly as intense as the brutal cross-examination that the prosecutor had given him.
Once he had finally been allowed to leave the stand and return home, he immediately retreated to his bedroom, not wanting to engage with anyone, or talk about what he had to suffer through that day. Curling up under the covers, he allowed himself to lose it just for a few minutes. He hoped that his testimony had been enough to cast doubt in the jury's minds, but he didn't know and that was what scared him. It had been wonderful to have been allowed that brief, physical contact with Caleb, and to be able to garner enough strength from the little, subtle cues he gave him while he was on the stand, but it had still been an emotionally charged day for him.
Lifting his head when Sam came into the room, he saw that he was laden down with some of Ellen's fantastic cooking. Straightening up, he still kept the covers over himself as Sam dumped some of the more delicious snacks on his lap. There was some of everything that he loved, including chocolate and even a little slice of apple pie. His senses going into overdrive, he nabbed a fork from Sam and took that first bite.
"Are you going to eat pie all night?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That was the plan, yes." Dean rolled his eyes. "Is dinner ready?"
"No, almost."
"Okay," Dean said, as he removed the covers from over his head. "What's up, then?"
"How did it go today?"
"Crappy."
"Did you see Caleb?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah, I did."
"So how is he?" Sam asked, his eyes eager for more information on the guy that they both adored.
Dean shrugged, trying to ignore the pressing ache in the center of his chest that inevitably popped up whenever he thought about Caleb, and where he was and how he didn't deserve to be there.
"He's okay, I guess."
"Really?"
Dean nodded, closing his eyes as he bit down comfortingly on his bottom lip. "Yeah, he looked okay."
"Did you talk to him?"
"Kind of."
"Kind of?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically.
"Yeah," Dean said, smiling at the memory that brief exchange had given him. "As I was walking between the two tables, he held his hand down for me to grab."
"Really?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah, kind of like a low-five," he said with a laugh. "Then he gave me some Caleb-like words of wisdom, and I got up there."
"Was it scary?"
"Kind of. With Dawn, it wasn't so bad," Dean said, "but when that prosecutor started doing his cross, it kind of got hard."
"Oh-"
"Dean," Bobby said, poking his head in the room. "Sorry to interrupt, but Caleb's on the phone."
"Oh, good," Dean said, hopping off his bed. "Thanks."
"You bet."
It had been gut-wrenching for Caleb to have to witness Dean going on the stand, and listen to the prosecutor tear into him about him. It had been even worse knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. Dawn jumped up whenever she could, but for the most part, she had to stay quiet while the prosecution got from him what they had wanted. As soon as the rest of the proceedings wrapped up and he had been allowed to go back to the jail, he hadn't wasted a second in calling and catching up with the boys, especially Sam. He hadn't spoken with the precocious nine-year-old in a few days, but he was anxious to see how Dean was coping with the weight of what had been placed on his shoulders that afternoon.
Hey, Dean said, as he came over the line.
"You did so good today," Caleb said.
You think so? Dean asked uncertainly.
Caleb nodded, even though Dean had no way of seeing it. "Yes, I absolutely did."
Thanks, it was nice, like, having you to look at whenever I got too freaked.
Whenever things got too intense with the questions that had been thrown at him, it had helped to be able to look at Caleb for his calm and reassuring guidance.
"Yeah," Caleb said softly. "I knew that would help you. But you did most of that on your own, you know?"
Yeah, so what's going to happen now?
"Dawn's going to call a few more witnesses, and then we're going to rest. Then the closing arguments will happen, and then-"
And then the waiting game begins.
"Yeah."
It wasn't anything either of them were looking foreword to, and it was a position they would both have to be in sooner or later.
Are you going to testify?
Dean knew that sometimes defendants testified in their own defense, and he was wondering if Caleb would do the same thing for himself.
"No," Caleb said. "Dawn and I talked it over, and we both came to the agreement that it would be better if I didn't."
Why not?
"Because," Caleb said, "there's already a bunch of lies associated with my name, and I'd be torn apart during the prosecution's cross-exam. It's better if we let the witnesses and the professionals do the talking."
What does-what does Dawn think about our chances for acquittal?
"She's hopeful," Caleb said honestly. "There's a lot of holes in the prosecution's case, and she's counting on the jury to realize that."
Okay, Dean said.
"I have to go," Caleb said, "I love you, dude. It was so good to see you today. Tell Sammy that I love him, and I had a good time talking to him today."
Alright, I will.
