FicWad

I've never worn a suit before and it's making me feel a little uncomfortable. The tie feels like a noose around my neck. There's a great temptation to just see how far I can tighten it.

Today is the start of Axl's trial. We've made numerous to the hospital and Izzy's had tons of examinations. It was painful to watch as he lay there, his legs slung in metal stirrups as the doctors stuck things into him, forcing him to relive everything again and again. But credit where credit's due to Izzy; he never cried, never screamed. Just lay there and took it all. But it paid off and the doctors found some scraps of evidence. Izzy's ass was riddled with scar tissue, signs of prolonged and painful assaults. After that it was up crime scene investigators to prove that it was Axl. They tore apart his room and found traces of Axl's DNA mixed with Izzy's blood. They also found flakes of Izzy's skin trapped in the fibres of rope. But by far the most damning evidence were the photos. It seemed that Axl liked to keep little "trophies" of his conquest.

With trembling, yet tender fingers I gently knot Izzy's tie for him. He looks at me with firm eyes, trying to be brave. But deep down I know he's probably as terrified as I am. Smiling a strained smile, I sweep strands of hair from his face and tuck them into the scarf that's holding his hair back. He looks good in his linen shirt and pants but the tie makes me look as awkward as I feel. We don't want to be dressed like this but we need to make an impression.

"I love you," I whisper.

Izzy just smiles and nods, face still set in it expression of faked bravery. Pushing my own hair into a band, I take his hand and walk out to the car.

~~~~

Our lawyer, a wiry man in his seventies, waits on the steps of courthouse. Mr Halifax should probably have retired years ago but he has a passion for taking on cases like ours. He made his money representing movie moguls and record executives. Now he represents the likes of us: the poor, the downtrodden and the queer.

He stretches his arms wide, his blue eyes twinkling as he greets us, "Jeffrey, Saul, so good to see you both."

Quickly we shake his hand as he escorts us inside. Izzy catches my eye and cracks a small smile as he nods towards Mr Halifax's cuff-links. Tiny rainbow flags. I reach and take Izzy's hand, squeezing his fingers and giving him a reassuring smile. We're obviously in safe hands.

The courtroom is a cavernous space. Only a few of the hundred or so seats are filled yet the space is filled with a greater presence.

Seated at the bench next to us is the source of the seething attitude. Dressed in a suit, with his hair in his face and a pout on his lips, is Axl. My heart is pounding as he stares daggers at us, trying to kill us for taking his freedom from him. Mr Halifax gives me a warm smile and touches my shoulder, encouraging me to sit. I'm just thankful Axl's shackled to the table.

We're just about to sit when a voice cries out, "All rise!"

Everyone stands and the judge walks in, giving a nod for everyone to sit.

"The State of California versus William Bruce Bailey is now in session." He shuffles his papers as everyone sits.

The noise of scrapping chairs is quickly replaced by a painfully heavy silence as everyone watches the salt-and-pepper haired judge.

Eventually, with his papers sorted, he addresses Axl, "William Bruce Bailey, you've been formally charged with the bodily harm, sexual assault and attempted kidnapping of Jeffrey Dean Isbell. How do you plead?"

I can almost hear everyone holding their breath. Mine is hitched in my throat and, even though I can't see him, I can feel Izzy tense beside me. Reaching out, I place a hand on his knee and gently squeeze, trying desperately to reassure him that, no matter what, I'll always be here.

"Not guilty," comes the confident response.

An audible gasp fills the room and I quickly grab Izzy's hand and hold on tightly. I know he's annoyed. He's not the only one, I'm pissed off as well that the bastard should be saying that, but I don't want Izzy to do anything stupid. Quickly I turn my head and press a kiss to his cheek, whispering into his ear, "Calm down sweetheart."

Over Izzy's shoulder, I watch as the jury walk in. We patiently wait while they're sworn in and take their seats. I can only hope they're ready for what they're about to hear and see. I've heard most of it, seen the pain it's caused Izzy and still it makes me sick to my stomach. When I see the pain in his eyes, I can feel the bile rising. Gently I squeeze his hand, kissing his ear as Axl's lawyer calls the first witness.

It's one of the officers that spoke to Izzy and I; a slim, bespectacled officer by the name of Raymond. Axl's lawyer, a young-ish blonde haired man called Kyle Mason, approaches him, standing, it seems, a little too closely for his comfort.

"Will you please state your name?" Mr Mason asks.

Raymond swallows and runs a finger around his shirt collar. "Raymond White."

"What is your occupation, Mr White?" The lawyer seemed to be staring intently at him, as if trying to get him to back down. Already I didn't like him. But then I'm not supposed to; he's representing the enemy.

"I'm a Police Detective with the Los Angeles Police Department."

"And what was your assignment during this investigation?"

I nervously watch him, silently praying for his help.

"I was assigned to interview Mr Isbell and Mr Hudson."

Mr Mason places a hand on the desk in front of Raymond and I can see him shake. It's only a small quiver, but it's enough to show me how nervous he is.

"And what did you find out during the course of your interviews, Mr White?" Even from my seat I can see a sardonic grin cross the lawyer's face.

Raymond squares his shoulders and begins, "I found two terrified young men. They'd been harassed and scared into hiding. Mr Hudson didn't speak a lot but then his mother had just been killed. The guy's barely an adult and here he was, dealing with the death of his mother and standing by a partner who had been repeatedly raped and beaten."

Mr Mason cocks his head and stares at Raymond. "Did you find any physical proof of these alleged rapes and beatings?"

He nods and I smile a little as he begins to face off with the lawyer. "Mr Isbell's body shows marks and scars which are concurrent with sustained attacks."

"And what makes you believe that Mr Hudson didn't cause these injuries?"

"Have you seen them?!" Raymond points a finger at us. "If that isn't true love sitting there then I don't know what is. I was also sent to interview Mr Bailey and he showed nothing but contempt for Mr Isbell."

"How did you come to that conclusion Mr White?" Mason cocks his head.

"Mr Bailey's interviews, no matter how much he protested his innocence, were riddled with control issues. The interviews were sent to psychologists who confirmed this."

"How do you know these psychologists weren't lying?"

"Because they're independent from us," Raymond sighs. "They looked at all the interviews taken, from all parties, and again and again they came to the same conclusion. Mr Bailey, no matter what he says, is a control freak who would stop at nothing to keep Mr Isbell with him."

~~~

And so it goes on throughout the day. Our witnesses come and go, all testifying that there is no way I'd have laid a finger to Izzy. All through it, I gently hold his hand, my head resting against his. With every witness statement, Axl lets out a snarl or sneer that sets my teeth on edge. Izzy's permanently tense, his fingers gripping mine. I can feel my hand going numb but I don't want to move: the courtroom is tense enough without telling him off. Besides, it's reassuring to have him there, holding my hand. A lot of shit is coming out, a lot of stuff that I never knew and wish that I didn't have to know. Axl's past, along with Izzy's, is being dragged over hot coals. Axl was beaten by his dad and in turn beat Izzy. But Izzy provoked him because he was cheating on Axl. And all of this is being held against us. Axl's the victim in this, not Izzy. Even though Axl committed some of the most heinous crimes known to man, he's the fucking victim in all of this. But it doesn't change anything, doesn't change my feelings for Izzy. I'll always love him, always hold him close and comfort him when all this comes back to haunt him. I'm actually looking forward to growing old with him. I reckon he's going to age beautifully and I'm looking forward to seeing the man he's going to turn into.

Another investigator takes the stand and my heart sinks as I recognise him. Izzy lets out a low groan and his nails dig into my flesh. The investigator states his name before pulling out a file and removing a sheaf of photos. The photos.