[MacsChick]

There is one small graphic scene in this part--just be forewarned. I debated about this part for a long time. I hope it doesn't sound too rushed. I didn't want to turn this story into a courtroom drama, because that isn't the point of it, so I didn't put in a lot of courtroom details. I hope it reads all right.

Accusations Part Nine
Rated: PG

“What’s the latest status on Mac’s condition?” Pete asked after Bob concluded another phone call with prison staff.

“He’s stable, but he received quite a serious beating from the other inmates,” Bob said. “The prison doctors tell me he’s fortunate to not have broken any bones in the sheer brutality and intensity of the struggle that ensued. They say it looks worse than it actually is and expect a full recovery without any further complications.”

“Oh, thank God,” Pete said.

“Apparently they tried to gang rape him, tying his hands, gagging his mouth…the details are absolutely appalling.”

“But…they didn’t…”

“No. The doctors say there is no evidence of any sexual trauma. Thankfully the guards intervened just in time.”

“That’s a relief,” Pete said, shuddering in horror and revulsion at the prospect that MacGyver could have been further damaged and abused, psychologically scarred and traumatized for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry this happened,” Bob said with sincerity, clenching his jaws and working them angrily. “He was cast down among the worst of the worst, left to the slaughter, left to fend for himself. If the prison hadn’t made such an egregious error, none of this would ever have happened. MacGyver would be safe right now, and unharmed. If I were a litigator, I would have a mind to file a lawsuit against their incompetency and gross negligence. As it stands now, however, I must look out for my client’s best interests, which includes getting him well and protecting him while he is in custody. The trial has been postponed until he is healthy enough to appear in court, so that should buy us some time to establish a solid defense.”

“But what about MacGyver? Did they say when we can visit him again?” Pete asked.

Bob shook his head. “Not for awhile, I’m afraid. The prison infirmary is a restricted access area for security and I might add bureaucratic reasons,” he said in disgust, clicking his firm jaws again. “Also, he will be placed in solitary confinement when he has sufficiently healed, which means no human contact whatsoever beyond prison staff.”

“What? Why? He didn’t instigate the fight!” Pete shouted, outraged.

Bob held up his hand to placate him. “It’s not to punish him, Mr. Thornton,” he said calmly. “It’s for his protection, so that he won’t be subjected to another brutal assault. It’s only temporary, just until I can arrange for him to be confined back in his individual cell, once again separated from the rest of the prison population, where he should have remained.”

Pete sighed sadly. “I still can’t believe this is happening, and to Mac, of all people,” he said. “He doesn’t belong in there. None of this should ever have happened to him.”

“I know, but I’m working on getting him out of there as soon as possible,” Bob said. “This nightmare will end eventually, I promise.”

Pete looked at him, saying nothing, hoping he was right but not feeling very optimistic.

***

Locked inside a cramped, windowless cell, the concept of time irrelevant, existing in a vacuum, MacGyver restlessly paced like a ferocious tiger in captivity, ready to lunge in attack at the first opportunity of freedom. His body was still sore from the beating he’d received, his cuts still healing. He repeatedly replayed the horrific incident in his mind, never feeling more sickened, helpless, and violated in his life, unable to protect and defend himself, trembling with the fear of the disturbing memory that remained. The cell, while designed to isolate and remove him from the rest of prison society, only increased his feelings of anxiety. For the first time in his life, he could do nothing to save himself, his world beyond his control, and he hated the hopelessness of his situation.

Eventually, his frenetic pacing tired him, and he collapsed to the floor, surrendering, staring blankly up at the ceiling, gasping and sweating from his almost ceaseless exertions. He realized the futility of his actions, knowing that they would never help him out of his predicament. If he were ever going to succeed in once again experiencing the freedom he missed and had taken for granted, he knew he had to try the relaxation techniques recommended by his psychologist to help him remember the events surrounding the girl’s rape and murder, no matter how unpleasant the details were. The isolation cell provided him with the perfect opportunity to concentrate, no external distractions or fear of being viciously attacked again could disturb him. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he began to reduce the tension that had coiled his muscles into tight knots, gradually fading into peaceful, serene oblivion, into a deep state of unconsciousness, completely unaware of the brutal outside world of the prison that surrounded him, transporting himself to another place…

He saw the girl’s face, but it was Emily’s face, the face from a distant time, pallid and wet, recently washed ashore from the river’s powerful, destructive current. Even though she was nearly drowned, she looked beautiful and calm, as if she were only sleeping. Gradually, the pristine, youthful condition of the face deteriorated, morphing into something so gruesome and hideous that he could barely stand to look at it, battered beyond recognition, no longer resembling a human face, the bones crushed, covered in blood. He heard blood-curdling screams—her screams. He saw her unknown assailant fleeing into the darkness, but he couldn’t identify him. The man was a mere shadow, a phantom, fading into nothingness…

***

Once Bob at last succeeded in securing a single occupancy cell to hold MacGyver, removing him from solitary confinement, Pete was allowed visitation again. Sadly, it had become routine to see him enter in full wrist and leg shackles, looking bedraggled, thin, and drawn, a blank, lost, expressionless stare in his dark eyes. It shocked and saddened Pete to see him so dispirited, as if he had already given up, already lost his perseverance.

“Mac, I’m so glad you’re all right,” he said. “When I heard what they did to you…”

“I’m all right, Pete,” MacGyver said, his tone flat and emotionless, tears in his eyes. He stared ahead at an unfixed point in the distance.

Pete smiled slightly at him, not believing him. “You don’t know how much I want to end this misery for you, how much I wish it was over,” he said angrily. “The news keeps showing your mug shot, flashing it all over the screen, describing you as this heartless monster, and the trial has only just started. They’re convicting you already in the court of public opinion before you even have a chance at a fair trial. It’s sickening, just absolutely disgusting, not to mention irresponsible! You don’t know how often I’ve yelled and raged at the TV screen, wanting to tell them how wrong they are about you, how well I know you, how you aren’t capable of doing such a thing. At least Bob is making progress in establishing your defense. He believes that since you have no prior criminal history and witnesses that can testify as to your past exemplary character and record like me, that could help reduce the severity of any sentence should the jury decide to convict you. He is also continuing to pursue the insanity defense, and while neither of these outcomes are not the most desirable or favorable, they might be our only alternatives at this point with the amount of evidence against you, unless you have somehow been able to remember any details from that night that could implicate another possible suspect.”

“I have…remembered a few things,” MacGyver said quietly. “When I was in solitary confinement, I tried to relax, tried to remember…”

“Did you? Did you remember anything?”

MacGyver shook his head, staring at Pete. “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing except vague shadows…I saw the girl’s face, what he did to her…God Pete, it was terrible…but I know I didn’t do this. I was there…I saw who did…I…I just can’t see him clearly…I’ve tried, but I can’t…” he broke down into uncontrollable sobs, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and pinching the bridge of his nose, slumping in his chair, his shoulders trembling.

Pete watched him with tremendous sympathy, wishing he could reach across the glass that separated them and enfold him in a comforting embrace.

“It’s all right, Mac,” he said softly. “One way or another, we will solve this. We will get you out of here. You will remember, and the right person will be prosecuted for this violent crime. You have to believe that. Don’t lose hope on me yet, okay? Stay strong. I know you can.”

MacGyver nodded, sniffing loudly.

“Bob also thinks that if you took the stand in your own defense, you would appear more sympathetic than the media’s portrayal, softening the jury’s opinion of you.”

“No, I won’t do that,” MacGyver said, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve, the stiff fabric of the prison uniform scratching him. “Forget it.”

“Why not?”

“No one will believe me,” MacGyver said, thinking about how the villagers accusing him of sorcery had glared at him with pure hatred, without an ounce of pity or compassion. “I’ve seen it before. In the eyes of most of that courtroom, I’m already a guilty man. The girl’s family will already be convinced that I am the one who killed their daughter. Nothing that could be said in my favor will do anything to change their opinion. They want justice, and I can’t say that I blame them.”

“You only have to convince the right people, the people on that jury,” Pete said. “They’re the ones that have to decide your fate.”

“No Pete. I disagree with Bob on this one. I think the less I say the better. It will only make me look desperate, and even though I want nothing more than to be out of here, I just don’t think that’s the way to do it.”

“You could be right,” Pete said. “Still, we don’t have much time. The prosecution has already gathered some incredibly damning evidence against you, and if we don’t fight back with all we’ve got, then…look, all I’m saying is that the burden of proof rests on our side, and it’s going to be a steep uphill climb.”

MacGyver nodded. “I understand,” he said. “Still, I wouldn’t be comfortable on the stand. I don’t think it’s the right approach.”

“I’ll notify Bob of your decision,” Pete said, sighing. “I guess there’s not much we can do but fight back against the allegations with everything we have, from character witnesses to psychological testimony…and anything you can remember about that night.”

“I’ll keep trying. I am trying, believe me.”

“I know you are. Just don’t give up on me. We’ll get through this somehow, no matter what happens.”

The two men stared at each other from beyond the boundary of the glass, neither of them imagining that something like this would ever happen, that they would ever be placed in such an unusual circumstance, but both knew it was real, it was urgent, and if MacGyver couldn’t remember some vivid details soon, the foundation on which their case was built would begin to erode and crumble beneath them.

***

The trial was long and exhausting, dramatic at times, both sides arguing their cases passionately, parading expert witnesses almost endlessly. Throughout the ordeal, MacGyver remained as calm and stoic as he possibly could, trying to read the faces of the jury, of the people who had been selected to ultimately determine his fate. They remained impassive, revealing no emotion and appearing not to favor one side or the other, fulfilling their duties as an impartial body, taking them seriously. Not once did he dare to glance in the direction of the victim’s family, feeling their hateful stares stab into him, listening to their heartrending sobs. He wished he could tell them the truth and have them believe him, tell them how sorry he was for their loss, but just like the villagers back in that other time, they had already condemned him, and they wouldn’t forgive him. All he could do now was hope that the jury wouldn’t feel the same way, would show him some leniency.

He hadn’t been able to remember anything else from that night, which was potentially damaging to his already flimsy case, but he knew he was incapable of committing such a grisly, senseless act of brutality towards a fellow human being, and if Pete and the others who knew him well remained the only people convinced of his innocence, then he supposed it was better than having no one believe him, having no one to listen to him. Even during his journey into the past, William and Emily had been willing to sacrifice their reputations and credibility in his defense, and he knew that Pete and the rest of his friends would do the same. He knew he wasn’t alone, that he had support, but there was only so much they could do for him, and he still stood accused, was still under suspicion by the majority of people in the city, and it was the loneliest he had ever felt, unfairly isolated and disconnected from the rest of society, an object of hatred and scorn, unfit to walk among them, misunderstood.

The jury deliberated for nine hours before returning to court, the tension inside the courtroom palpable, a disturbing hush falling among the spectators, the expressions on the jury’s faces remaining unreadable. MacGyver looked at Pete, who smiled bravely at him through his tears, showing him he had hope for a favorable outcome.

“What is your feeling? Which way did they decide?” MacGyver asked Bob.

Bob sighed. “It’s difficult to tell,” he said. “How are you holding up?”

MacGyver released a shaky breath. “I’ve never felt more afraid in my life,” he whispered, closing his eyes and bowing his head.

Bob reached out, squeezing his shoulder firmly. “Just remember, whatever they decide, those who love you will be there for you,” he said.

MacGyver nodded, sighing again, a few tears leaking from his closed eyelids. He refused to open his eyes again, refused to look at the numerous faces and reactions in the courtroom, from the stony expression of the judge to inscrutable jury to Pete’s brave, tearful smile to the hostile glares of the victim’s family. He just wanted to drown it all out, to pretend it was a dream, just as his time in the witch trials had been, all a misunderstanding, all a product of his overactive imagination…

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” The judge asked, his stentorian voice loud and echoing clearly through the chambers of the courtroom.

“We have, your honor,” the foreman said.

“And how do you find?”

“We the jury find the defendant guilty of all charges.”

Outraged cries blended with shouts of elation and relief, creating a cacophony that the judge couldn’t silence with the banging of his gavel and his thunderous shouts of “Order!” MacGyver remained completely still, his eyes still closed, feeling as if he were drowning, the voices the weight dragging him underwater, suffocating him. He was vaguely aware of the voices around him, kinder, less harsh, less grating voices, the voices of Pete and Bob, doing their best to soothe him, to comfort him, to restore him to his senses.

“Mac, are you all right? Mac, can you hear me?” Pete asked, sobbing. “Oh God, this is terrible. I never imagined…this isn’t over, do you understand? We’ll fight this!” he rubbed MacGyver’s trembling back and embraced him.

“He’s right,” Bob said. “I’ll file an appeal. I’ll do all that I can to reduce your sentence. We won’t give up on your behalf. We will persist in our efforts to prove your innocence!”

“MacGyver, come on…please…say something! Anything! Mac!”

MacGyver remained still, his eyes closed, completely oblivious, once again hoping it was only a dream.

To be continued…

[ghostdoll]

oh man! deja vu from chapter 6!!

I've been watching too much Law and Order

Very interesting chapter, MacsChick! Thank you!