To The Journey
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.
Chapter Nine: A Story For the Ages
Tasha couldn't help an incredulous laugh at the mental image. Captain I-don't-like-children Picard allowing, even relishing a hug from a five-year-old. That definitely warranted a giggle.
"What?" he asked.
"You. Bringing a child into your house. And Johnny? Who in the galaxy came up with that one?"
"Walker Keel. He thought it was funny. Of course, once he started calling me that Jack had to do the same, and then Boothby of all people jumped on that bandwagon, and I don't know if you ever really knew him -"
"I did. And once he's made up his mind about something -"
"It's useless to try and change it!" they finished in unison as if they themselves were still children.
"So what happened then?" Tasha asked eagerly.
"She lived with me for awhile. That picture was taken on her sixth birthday. I couldn't throw a full party, and anyway I don't think she would have appreciated. But I - ah - got some help from a friend to prepare a meal, including a cake." He laughed ruefully. "It was a good thing we took the picture before the cake."
"I can imagine. Who was the friend?" Tasha suspected she knew the answer.
"Guinan."
"So what happened next?"
"The trial started about a month later. The prosecutor - and I - were worried about Jessie mostly. She was so young and so easily frightened, and without her testimony the case could have collapsed. We did manage to file a motion to make sure she was questioned by a female attorney - she was just too jumpy around adult men, and the judge agreed she'd be at an unfair disadvantage with a male questioning her, she'd be likely to get intimidated. Well, I was the first witness to be questioned.
"Please state your full name and occupation for the record."
"Jean-Luc Picard. Starfleet Captain.
"Captain Picard." The prosecuting attorney approached him. "Records show that on the evening of October 23rd, 2361, you transported to Bethune Memorial Hospital in San Francisco, accompanied by a patient. Is this correct?"
"Yes."
"Can you name the patient in question?"
"Rachel Akman." The name felt strangely foreign on his tongue after weeks of calling her by a form of her middle name.
"Please describe for this court the events leading to your transport of this patient."
Forcing himself to keep his voice level, he explained how he had entered a yard intending to assist what he had believed was an animal in distress, and what he had found instead. He described, in graphic detail, the conditions he had found little Jessie in. He told the jury about her terrified reaction to him.
"Captain Picard, several days later you called the law enforcement office. Please explain the nature of your call to this court."
"Rachel" - again the strange name! "had reported to me that she had witnessed the death of her mother at the hands of her father. I questioned her further and was satisfied that she was telling the truth, and I believed that such a report needed to be investigated to the fullest extent."
"No further questions."
The defense attorney team conferred for a moment, and then one man approached him. "Captain Picard, did you ever actually see Mr. Akman abuse his daughter?"
"No," he admitted, "but I did see her injuries."
"Can you say with absolute certainty that he caused them?"
"Absolute, no. But -"
"Is there a possibility the injuries to Miss Akman were caused by a person other than the defendant?"
"Not according to Miss Akman."
"Yes or no, Captain?"
"A very slim possibility, yes."
"As to the other matter, do you have any evidence other than Miss Akman's word that the as-yet unsolved murder of Anna-Rose Akman was committed by the defendant?"
"That evidence is contained in the autopsy reports, which will be described later by an expert witness."
"No further questions for this witness."
"Would the prosecution like to redirect?"
"Yes." The prosecutor stepped up again. "Captain Picard, you said there is a possibility that the defendant did not cause Rachel Akman's injuries. How significant do you believe this possibility is?"
"Negligible. Rachel had said herself that her father did inflict her injuries."
"The defense's testimony suggests that Rachel's story may be inaccurate. As her rescuer - and one cannot deny that she was rescued, even if we debate what and who she was rescued from -" he quickly added before the defense could object, "you have a particular bond with her. Do you believe this is the case?"
"I do not. I believe that there are only three possibilities in this situation. One, and this is the only one I believe is significant, Rachel is telling the truth. Two, Rachel's memory of events is incorrect. Expert witnesses will testify later on the improbability of this. Or three, Rachel is lying. I believe that is highly unlikely."
"Can you elaborate?"
"Children are not born with a knowledge of deception and dishonesty. In fact, anyone who has spent time around young children knows that they have a tendency to be very honest and candid. In some ways, one might say that young children are the most moral citizens among us because they always tell the truth. For a six-year-old to come up with such an elaborate story on her own is extremely unlikely, and I can vouch for the fact that no one has had a chance to 'coach' this child in whatever plot the defense may claim their client is a victim of. All the clues point to the first option being the only realistically possible one. Rachel is telling the truth."
"Thank you, Captain. No further questions."
"You may step down," the judge said from the podium.
"They questioned the doctors who had examined Jessie, all of whom testified that she had marks of years-old abuse." Picard sighed. "I was told by those same doctors that unless medical technology makes some major steps forward she'll have scars from the abuse for the rest of her life."
He stared into space for a moment before abruptly coming back. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought. What was I saying? Oh, yes. They also testified that she showed no signs of physical memory alteration, which is very difficult to hide from today's medical equipment. The doctor who'd performed Mrs. Akman's autopsy testified that the point of impact of the fatal blow matched Jessie's story and that she had marks similar to her daughter's, suggesting long-term abuse. A top child psychologist testified that Jessie was not only old enough to tell fact from fiction - and thus positively identify her attacker - but that even very young children are capable of creating and retaining memories, especially if those memories involve traumatic events. In other words, despite being only three at the time, it was possible and even probable that she really did remember seeing her mother killed."
"Wait - she was only three?" Tasha broke in. "That would mean she was living with her father for -"
"Two years, seven months, eighteen days, and about twenty hours" he finished, laughing despite himself as she gaped at his Data-like answer. "Oh, trust me, I usually don't remember things that well, but that's one figure I'll never forget."
"Never mind that, how in the name of the galaxy did you come up with it in the first place?"
"The date and time I rescued her minus the approximate date and time of Anna-Rose Akman's death from her autopsy report. Maybe I'd spent too much time around Data. At any rate, I wanted to know."
"Did Jessie ever testify for herself?"
"Yes. She was the last witness, by design of course. Our ace in the hole.
"Please state your full name for the record."
"Rachel Jessica Akman." She spelled it unprompted, just as she had that day in the hospital, and Jean-Luc couldn't help a small smile as the prosecutor approached her.
"Miss Akman, on the night of October 23rd, 2361, you were admitted to Bethune Memorial Hospital for severe injuries. Please tell this court how you acquired them."
"My daddy hit me with a branch from a tree."
"Was this the first time he'd hit you?"
"No. He didn't usually use the tree branch though. Usually he just used his hands or a belt."
"Where were you when Captain Picard found you?"
"Outside. Daddy made me go outside and put the collar on me."
"Why did he do that?"
"I was going down the stairs and I tripped and fell and it made noise and woke Daddy up, so he put me outside until I could learn to be quiet in the house."
Jean-Luc felt like he'd been slapped. He'd never heard what it was she had done to supposedly warrant the punishment that had been inflicted on her that last time.
"When did he start hitting you?"
"After Mommy went away."
"Can you tell me what happened the last time you saw your mother?"
Jessie told her story just as she had to Jean-Luc. What she couldn't see and he could was that several of the jurors had tears in their eyes just hearing it.
"Thank you. No further questions."
The woman on the defense team stood. "Miss Akman, how old are you?"
"Six years old."
"Tell me, do you forget things sometimes?"
"Yes."
"I want you to think very carefully. Is it possible that someone else hit you and you forgot?"
"No. It was Daddy."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Absolutely?"
"Objection! Counsel is badgering the witness."
"Sustained. You have an answer to your question. There is no purpose in asking her to re-confirm it."
"How old were you the last time you saw your mother?"
"Three years old."
"Other than what you've already told this court, can you remember anything that happened that same day? Say, before you went to bed?"
"No."
"What about the day before?"
"No."
"Then how can you be sure you remember exactly what happened that night?"
"I don't know. I just do."
"And where did you say you were when it all happened?"
"Under a table."
"About how tall was that table?"
She stood slowly and indicated the object's approximate height in relation to herself.
"So a little less than a meter. Your father is about two meters tall. How can you be absolutely sure of what you saw?"
"They were far away. And I was looking up."
"Are you absolutely sure that the face you saw was your father's?"
"Yes."
"Even with all those barriers that would have prevented you from seeing him clearly?"
"Yes."
"Listen to me very carefully. What you have described is a very serious charge that could mean your father going away for the rest of his life. Because of that, I have to be absolutely sure. Was it your father you saw hitting your mother? Think carefully before you answer."
A pause. Then ,"yes."
"No further questions."
"Would the prosecution like to redirect?"
"One question only. Miss Akman, you told me you couldn't remember things on specific days around the last time you saw your mother. Before that last day, do you remember doing things with your mother? Spending time with her?"
"Yes."
"No further questions."
"Sounds like she really was brave."
"Tell me about it. The moment she was out of that courtroom she broke down completely and wouldn't stop crying for hours. That defense attorney really tore into her hard.
"The defense called a couple of people to testify on behalf of Mr. Akman's character, and another psychologist who claimed that a child might have projected a familiar face onto an unfamiliar stranger, but the prosecutor tore much more effective holes in their testimonies than the defense had torn in ours. She stomped them in closing remarks too. It was actually quite entertaining to watch.
"Let me begin by saying that the defense does not question the nature of the crimes as described by the prosecution. Was Rachel Akman beaten and chained? Yes. The defense does not argue this point. Was Anna-Rose Carter Akman beaten and murdered? Yes. The defense does not argue this point either.
"Did Richard Akman commit these crimes? That is the crux of this matter, and the key point of division between the prosecution and myself. The standard of proof in this court is, as we all know, that the defendant must be shown to be guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. I submit that the prosecution has demonstrated no hard evidence of these facts. Make no mistake, I do not believe that Rachel Akman ever lied or intentionally deceived anyone. But she is young, and children's minds are not the same as their adult counterparts. I have no doubt that she believes she saw her father beat her, but that is not the same as solid proof. The testimony is based on a series of uncorroborated statements and a lot of circumstantial evidence. Nothing the prosecution has said has solidly linked Mr. Akman to the crimes committed. Mr. Akman is, in fact, as much a victim as his own daughter." He turned to the judge. "The defense rests."
The defense attorney sat down and the prosecutor stepped up.
"The defense's case is based on speculation and faulty science. They would like to make this court believe that Rachel Akman invented her father's part in the events of her life. The prosecution has already demonstrated that this is unlikely to be true. Children, even children of Miss Akman's age, are fully capable of remembering the events of their lives, especially when those memories are traumatic.
"The defense submits that Miss Akman mentally projected her father's face onto a stranger. Aside from the fact that this is extremely unlikely based on a psychological evaluation of Miss Akman, the injuries to both Miss Akman and her mother were sustained over a long period of time. In order for the defense's theory to hold water, one would have to be willing to believe that both women were assaulted multiple times, in at least one case over the course of years, by some stranger, and that the defendant did not then notice the recurring injuries to his wife or daughter. Is this remotely possible? Yes. But is it probable? I submit that it is not. The defense says that Mr. Akman is a victim. Mr. Akman made victims of his wife and daughter. He, himself, was never a victim. The prosecution rests."
"It took the jury only two hours to find him guilty on all counts. Two life sentences, no chance of parole, for killing his wife and abusing his daughter. He'll never get out."
"But what happened to Jessie?"
"The placement with me had always been temporary. Once the trial was over, Child Services wanted to place her in a permanent home as soon as possible. They asked me first if I'd like to adopt, and that was when I did it."
"Did what?"
"I told them I'd think it over. The next day, I called back and said no."
"What? Why?"
"Natasha, I have always been, first and foremost, a Starfleet Captain. I've never been entirely comfortable with the idea of children aboard a starship heading into all sorts of unknown dangers, and the idea of putting a child I'd come to care for and love into that sort of danger seemed unconscionable. At that point, I was even more uncertain; it was only beginning to be tested. And then there's the fact that I'm Captain. I've escaped death by a hair a hundred times, and I've brought the bodies of dead officers back to their families. She'd already been through so much, I couldn't have her become comfortable with me and then lose that too. No, I had to make sure she got a stable, safe home, even if it meant giving her up. In fact, that's a good part of the reason I've always been uncomfortable around children. I was to some degree before that, but afterward every child I looked at reminded me of what I could have had." He took a deep breath as though struggling not to burst into tears. "January eighth, 2362. That was the last time I saw her.
"But why do I have to go away?" Jessie pleaded, wide eyes fixed on him. "I wanna stay with you, Uncle Johnny."
"I know you do, ma cherie. But I have to go back to my ship, and it isn't safe for you to come with me."
She threw her arms around his neck. "I love you,Uncle Johnny."
"And I love you." Tears pricked at his eyes. Did she have to make this even harder than it already was?
"Can I see you sometimes?"
A lump caught in his throat. He'd already asked that question of Child Services, and he knew she wouldn't be pleased with the answer. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."
"Why not?"
"Because some people are worried that your daddy might have friends who could be mad at you for telling on him. They want to hide you where the bad people can't find you, and because I talked at the trial they know I'm connected to you, so if I visited they would be able to find you. We don't want anyone to ever hurt you like your daddy did. I'm truly sorry, Jessie."
The little arms around him tightened. "I wish you could have been my daddy."
"So do I." He pulled something out of the bag. It was the rabbit that had been on her bed the very first day. "Did I ever tell you why I gave you a rabbit?"
"No."
"There's a very old story, Jessie, about a rabbit very much like this one." He checked the clock, determining that he had time to tell a slightly abridged version of the story before she would be picked up by the Child Services people. "This Rabbit was given to a little boy as a present on a very special day, and the boy liked him a lot. But then the boy's family came and brought more presents, and the little boy became so excited he forgot all about the poor rabbit. So for some years, the Rabbit lived with the boy's other toys, and no one really paid attention to him. But one day, one of the other toys told him that if a toy is loved enough, it could become Real.
"But the Rabbit was never played with, and so he thought he could never become Real. But one day the Boy lost his favorite toy, and the woman who took care of the boy gave him the rabbit to sleep with instead. And the Boy grew to love the Rabbit, and the Rabbit to love the boy. And then, one night, something incredible happened. The woman who took care of the Boy had had to go get the Rabbit from outside, and she was most annoyed. 'Fancy all that fuss for a toy!' she said.
"'Give me my Bunny!' he said. 'You mustn't say that. He isn't a toy. He's REAL!' And the rabbit knew the magic had happened, and he was Real. But that summer, he saw two other rabbits, rabbits who moved and turned and jumped in odd ways. And they asked him to play, but he could not because of the way his legs were. And the rabbits looked at him, and they laughed. 'He isn't a rabbit at all! He isn't real!'
"'I am Real!' said the little Rabbit. 'I am Real! The Boy said so!' But the other rabbits ran away, and he sat by himself. But he began to feel better soon, because the Boy loved him and took him everywhere. And then, one day, something terrible happened. The Boy became very ill, and strange people came and went, and the Rabbit was forced to lie very still so that no one would see him and try to take him away. Slowly, the Boy got better, and the Rabbit was excited, because they were going to go to the seaside and the Rabbit had never been there.
"But then the doctor ordered that the nursery be disinfected. Now, this was a very long time ago, and there were no machines to disinfect things. Instead, anything that might have germs on it had to be burned. The woman who took care of the Boy found the Rabbit on his bed and the doctor said that it must be burned too."
Jessie's eyes were huge, but she said nothing, as though she didn't want to put the story on hold long enough to speak.
"The Rabbit was placed in a sack outside with the Boy's other toys, and he was very, very sad. He was so sad that a tear - a real tear! - trickled down his cheek. And then a miraculous thing happened. Where the tear had been, a little flower grew. And out of the flower came a fairy. And she told him that she was the fairy who took care of all animals who were loved, and that she was there to make him Real. And he said '"Wasn't I Real before?'
"'You were Real to the Boy,' the Fairy said, 'because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to every one.' And she took him in her arms and brought him to a special land, and then she kissed him. And suddenly, he found that he had a body just like the rabbits he had seen that day in the garden.
"And one day, when the Boy was playing outside, he saw two rabbits. . One of them was brown all over, but the other had strange markings under his fur, as though long ago he had been spotted, and the spots still showed through. And about his little soft nose and his round black eyes there was something familiar, so that the Boy thought to himself: Why, he looks just like my old Bunny that was lost when I had scarlet fever! But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real.
"Now you have a Rabbit of your own, Jessie. As long as you love him, he will love you, and he will carry my love for you as well. And I do love you, so very much."
The door chimed, and Jessie looked at him with wide eyes. "Is that them?"
"Yes." He gently untangled himself from her and took her face in his hands. "Now, I want you to promise me something. Promise me you'll be a good girl for your new family."
"I promise, Uncle Johnny."
"That's my girl." He stood and walked to the door. It was the longest walk of his life, and it took all the strength he had to press the button to open it.
He beckoned to Jessica, who took her small suitcase and the rabbit and walked to the door. She took one look at the people there to retrieve her, and then reached up to him.
He bent down, lifting her into one final hug. "I love you, Uncle Johnny."
"And I love you, Jessie. More than you can possibly understand." He slowly set her on her feet, and one of the Child Services people took her hand.
His last view of her was of long blond hair twirling behind the tiny body. And for years to come, he would always wonder what would have happened if he had, as he was so tempted to do, run after her.
Don't worry, there will be a wrap-up in the next chapter.
The rabbit story is, regrettably, not mine. It's a children's classic.
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