Mind of a Fanatic
Chapter 22
"Are you sure you're up to this, Lambchop?" Kenwall said, holding his daughter's hands. "We don't have to do this today," She certainly looked stronger and far healthier than she had the last time she was in court, but he knew that looks could be deceiving and that his Calleigh was a master of that kind of deception.
"I'm fine, dad. I think it's a good idea." Calleigh said, smiling reassuringly at him. "Use my breakdown." She had never known her dad to be so protective over her before. Then again, he'd never been so sober for so long before. If this was who the real Kenwall Duquesne was that her mother first fell in love with, then, bring on her real father. Silently she prayed that he stayed on the wagon for the rest of his life because she needed this father in her life; wanted him in her life. "I've had plenty of witnesses testify to my character so that the difference in my behavior can only help."
Sam, completely unaware of the internal monologues of his companions, patted her on her good shoulder. "Then let's go in there and put the final nail in Dupree's coffin. Remember, Calleigh, hold absolutely nothing back. If you suddenly feel like you're going to lose it and break down on the stand, then for God's sake do it. I'm not going to go easy on you and you know that the defense isn't, either. Are you sure you can do this?"
"I can do it Sam." Calleigh nodded a knot of worry in her stomach. Could she just let go like he asked? "Let's just get it over with. I'm getting sick of this place."
"CSI Duquesne," Sam asked carefully. "Is it true that after you previously appeared in this court room, your doctor rescinded her permission to be out of the hospital, even under medical supervision?"
Calleigh nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, she did."
"Can you tell the court the reason why?"
"In my eagerness to testify and tell my story to the esteemed jury, I miscalculated on how hard I could push myself and I overtaxed myself. In my best interest, Dr. Webber pulled her authorization so that I could recover further." Calleigh explained. A few jurors nodded as if in understanding. "I didn't receive permission to leave the hospital until yesterday."
Sam paced. This was going well. I hate making her uncomfortable in this line of questioning, but I have to do it. "Had your recovery been going well prior to Monday, December 26th? Was your physical therapy progressing as expected?"
"According to my doctors, they expected nothing less that what was happening." Calleigh paused, took a deep breath and plunged ahead with the truth. "My own expectations, on the other hand, were much higher; even though I was very aware of the damage that my body sustained. I wasn't happy with how anything was progressing. In fact, it felt like it wasn't."
"Tell the court about that, please."
"Well, I couldn't even feed myself." Calleigh said, "The first time I tried, I could barely lift the fork and CSI Delko, who was visiting at that time, had to feed me," She was only beginning to understand what Sam hand meant by the phrase 'not going easy on her'.
"I see. And how did that make you feel?"
"Objection," Powell stood for dramatic effect. "Relevancy Your Honor?"
"Mr. Bartlett," Judge Garcia said, "What is the relevance in this line of questioning?"
"Your Honor, CSI Duquesne did not only receive physical trauma but suffered mental and emotional trauma as well at the hands of the defendant," Sam defended. "It's direct cause and effect."
"Proceed. Ms. Duquesne, please answer the question."
Calleigh nodded. "Yes sir. I-I, uhm, I couldn't do anything for myself. I'm very independent and having to be forced to depend on others - well, at first I was just plain embarrassed. I couldn't feed myself, take myself to the bathroom or even brush my own hair. I was told that I needed to be patient and that before I knew it I'd be able to do things for myself. But day after day I was forced to ask for help. I couldn't see any progress at all and I had begun to fear that maybe I'd never regain full use of my arms or legs, even though the doctors assured me that my then current condition was only temporary. Intellectually I knew what they were telling me had to be true, but emotionally, viscerally, it never felt that way. I was devastated. I felt useless and helpless and I was scared and that all made me angry." She wiped at her tearing eyes. She accepted the proffered tissue. "The only thing that made me feel anything remotely normal was being able to come in here and give my testimony. I'm a CSI; it's part of what we do. It felt so good that I became drunk, high, on the feeling and I pushed myself too hard and nearly had a relapse. When Dr. Webber pulled her authorization, I snapped. It was as if everything I had feared was becoming a reality and I just couldn't take it."
Sam gazed on her in sympathy. She really was having a hard time. Swallowing that sympathy for the time being, he continued. "Would it be fair to say that at that point you had lost hope of achieving a full recovery and returning to the way you were before being taken by Father Dupree?"
"Yes, I did. It all seemed so pointless. The physical therapy didn't seem to be doing me any good and was only succeeding in creating more pain. Dr. Stourton would set goals for me and when it was clear that I hadn't achieved them, it just made me feel more helpless and useless. I gave up I just couldn't see the point anymore," Calleigh said, wiping at fresh moisture. She couldn't look into the gallery where most of the team sat for moral support. She couldn't meet a single gaze, not that for a second she would see pity there, but sympathy and understanding instead. She knew if she did, she'd break down completely and be unable to finish the testimony.
"Ms. Duquesne, not to cause you any more discomfort, can you tell the court what happened next?" Sam asked kindness in his voice.
"Dr. Stourton refused to let me give up and she pushed me anyway. We argued and there was a physical fight, it was me more than her; she just tried to keep me from hurting myself, and then I...I...uhm," Calleigh broke off unable to say any more. She clenched her jaw, determined not to fall apart on the witness stand. She shook her head, signaling her inability to continue verbally.
Sam's heart ached watching her fight for control. He chose to make it easy on her, going back against his word earlier. He hadn't realized that it would be this hard for her. "You got angry and all the pent up fear and worry exploded to the surface. Is that right?"
"Objection!" Powell nearly shouted. "Speaking for the witness!" It had already been going badly for his client and he had caught the jurors shooting the priest loathing glares from time to time, but with Duke's daughter, known for her self control and professionalism, breaking down on the stand, he knew he'd be lucky to get Dupree off with an LWOP.
"Overruled. The witness can hardly speak for herself right now Mr. Powell," Judge Garcia said, masking his shock at seeing a CSI whom he'd come to respect and even like be unable to continue with a testimony. His voice, while still professional, was gentle when he spoke. "Ms. Duquesne, do you need a few minutes?"
She shook her head. "No, I can go on. I apologize; I didn't expect this to happen." She took a deep breath and continued. "I exploded, had a catharsis."
Sam shot her a slight smile of encouragement. "Just how severe was this catharsis?"
"It was extremely intense and prolonged. Lt. Caine was witness to it, although I didn't know it at the time. He can corroborate on what happened."
"Has your outlook on your recovery changed since this catharsis?" Sam asked.
"Oddly enough, it has. I needed to release or expend all the negative feelings that were getting in the way of my recovery. I needed to emotionally get on board with what the doctors had been telling me all along," Calleigh explained, finally beginning to calm down. She was mildly embarrassed that she had broken down, but it was exactly that which they gambled on happening in the first place.
"So your physical recovery is progressing now?" Sam asked.
"It had been all along, but I was unable to see it. I was too eager to have everything back right away and was unable to see that I actually was making progress. It's no less physically painful, but I can see the progress and I don't mind the pain so much." A wave of intense exhaustion swept over her, taking her by surprise. She hadn't realized that her emotional response would tax her so heavily. "Your Honor, could we take a recess please?"
Judge Garcia looked down into her tired face. "Of course. Half hour recess."
Horatio pushed the wheelchair up to the witness stand and helped her get in. "You ok?"
"I'm fine. I just didn't expect to-"
"Say no more. You're giving Powell an aneurysm in case you hadn't noticed." Horatio pushed the wheelchair into the hallway to where the team waited. They swarmed as soon as they saw her.
"That was some amazing acting in there, Cal," Ryan said admiration for his mentor in his voice. "It really looked like you were-OW!" He shot Eric a dirty look and massaged the arm that Eric had just punched. "What the hell Delko?"
"Shut up, Wolfe," Eric growled. He had known Calleigh longer and had seen her lose it a time or two. The most recent was when Hagan had committed suicide in her lab. She had held it together while in the lab, but he remembered walking out to his car at the end of the day and seeing her still there, inside her car. She was shaking and when he got closer he realized that she was crying... He knew it took a lot to get her to crack, so he wasn't exactly surprised she blew. It did make him worry that she had allowed herself that display in the court room, though.
"Who said I was acting, Ryan?" She turned tired eyes up to him. "I really need that rest."
"Cal, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking and-" Ryan's words trailed off. And I am such an idiot, he thought miserably, way to stick your foot in it Wolfe!
"It's ok Ryan," She closed her eyes, her head beginning to drop on her neck from exhaustion. "Don't worry about it."
"I've got her, H." Eric said, shooting his former brother-in-law a significant look, telling him that he was worried and wanted to talk to her himself. "I'll take her; go get a cup of coffee." He took control of Calleigh's wheelchair, wheeled her into the conference room and helped her onto the couch.
"Ok, what was that about?" Calleigh questioned. "What's wrong?"
"You're not a crier, at least not in public, and aren't prone to public breakdowns – public chew outs yes – but not breakdowns." Eric sat next to her. "How bad was it, Cal? You know you can tell me."
She looked up into his eyes and read the concern in them. You always have worn your heart right on your face, haven't you, Eric? It makes you a lousy liar. "It was bad, Eric, really bad. But I'm fine now. It needed to happen and I didn't realize how difficult it would be to talk about it in court and I let my emotions get the best of me. I'm better, but not 100 yet. You don't need to worry. I'll pass the psych eval. You'll be rolling your eyes at me in no time."
"You're sure?"
She smiled at him. "Yes, I'm sure."
He pulled her into a gentle hug, which she returned. "If you ever need and ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on, you know where to find me, Querida."
"I do. Now will you get out of here before I start crying again?" Calleigh said, struggling to keep her emotions in check. "If you don't I swear I'll sic Dr. Webber on you,"
"No thanks; she's fierce, I'd rather face Stetler." Eric chuckled and released her, helping her to lie down. "Do you need anything?"
"No," She curled herself into a comfortable position and yawned. "Just a nap, thanks."
"Then I'll go and let you get on with that. Rest well." Heart reassured and feeling much better himself, Eric closed the door and went to get himself a cup of coffee.