CSI: NY ficlet: "Justice"
Jan. 8th, 2006 03:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardAw. Look what crawled out of my brain. Bardverse, pre-Bloody Sunday but post-Omerta - probably closer to Bloody Sunday than Omerta, but hey, who's counting?
On Thursday the seventeenth, Judge Springer makes her ruling. Danny's been working the past three days, and despite his best efforts hasn't been able to make it downtown to see the rest of the trial, but the seventeenth comes up empty (so far, he has to remind himself when he gets to the courthouse) so Danny goes down to make sure the jury comes up with the verdict that bastard Jackson deserves.
They don't.
Danny worked the case himself, him and Aiden, and before they took Jackson down to Central Booking they made sure the evidence was airtight. He testified too, went up there on the stand and explained the evidence in idiot-speak, everything Jackson's footprints and the glass shards of the murder weapon had to say, and Jackson's slick uptown lawyer had still explained it all away. Twelve upstanding men and women, and they'd still taken the word of a child-molesting murderer over that of an NYPD crime scene detective. The injustice of it all makes Danny's blood run cold. Jackson's, going to walk, and his sons are going to live in terror of the man that killed their mother for the rest of their lives. Danny's met them, talked to them, consoled Jake Jackson, the older one, through the tears that streamed helplessly down his face when he talked about his dad. They're good kids. They don't deserve this.
Their lawyer, Mike Mazzorro, a second cousin of Danny's on his mother's side, is equally confused. "I don't get it," he says over and over again when they eet outside the courtroom. "The case was airtight. How could they -"
Danny looks at him and has no words. He's not wearing his gun, not in court, but his figners itch for the trigger nonetheless. Mike's a good lawyer, even if he is a Mob one (a fact that Judge Springer probably noted, since she's presided over her fair share of Constantine-related cases), and he took this case pro bono at Danny's request when Luanne Bresnahan confided tearfully to Danny that she couldn't afford one. Right now Luanne goes to Mike to console him, but it doesn't take a genius to read the expression on her face and see she's mor in need of consolation than he is.
Jake wraps his arms around his brother. "I know you and Mr. Mazzorro did everything you could, Detective Messer," he says, trying to sound mature, but his voice breaks halfway through the sentence and he chokes out the last words through what look like incumbent tears. He grips Shane tighter, the scars standing out stark against his white face.
Danny rests a hand on his shoulder. "I'll take care of this, Jake," he says.
The terror doesn't flee the boy's face. "He's - we're not going to have to go back to him, are we?" he asks. "He's not going to - we can stay with Aunt Luanne, can't we?"
The alternative is too horrible to contemplate. Danny can't imagine havig to live with the bastard that molested him and killed his mother. "You won't have to live with him," he hears himself promise, and sees Jake's face relax slightly. "No court's going to grant a petition for custody from a guy that went up for murder one." He doesn't mention the child molestation charge, which Jake doesn't ened a reminder of. Shane's lucky he was enver touched, that Jake basically whored himself out to save his younger brother from the asshole that sired them both.
Shane grips at his brother with his good hand. the other one is still in a cast, plaster stretching from palm to elvow. He stares at Danny with wide green eyes. "Why aren't they making Dad go to jail?" he demands desperately. "Why are they being so dumb? He killed Mom, he deserves to - I don't want -" His face trembles and Jake holds him tighter.
Danny kneels down so they're on eye level. "Your dad will never touch you again," he promises solemnly. "He'll go away, and no one will ever see him again."
Jake looks up at that, but there's no sorrow or surprise in his face, just anger and a burning need for vengeance. "Really?" he says.
"I promise," Danny says.
*
Someone finds the body two days later. Mac and Stella work the case, but there's no evidence to close it and eventually it gets written off as unsolved. Danny sees the corpse when he's in the morgue talking to Zao about the decomp he and Flack are working. You bastard, he thinks before Hawkes pulls a sheet over his face. Your family's got a little justice. Rot in hell, you son of a bitch. He doesn't think of Tom Jackson again, but Jake Jackson sends him a Christmas card with "thank you!" written in blocky green letters a few months later. Danny sends one back, and makes sure Jake and Shane both get gift cards. Merry Christmas, he writes, and Happy New Year.
Feedback much appreciated, if you feel so inclined.
On Thursday the seventeenth, Judge Springer makes her ruling. Danny's been working the past three days, and despite his best efforts hasn't been able to make it downtown to see the rest of the trial, but the seventeenth comes up empty (so far, he has to remind himself when he gets to the courthouse) so Danny goes down to make sure the jury comes up with the verdict that bastard Jackson deserves.
They don't.
Danny worked the case himself, him and Aiden, and before they took Jackson down to Central Booking they made sure the evidence was airtight. He testified too, went up there on the stand and explained the evidence in idiot-speak, everything Jackson's footprints and the glass shards of the murder weapon had to say, and Jackson's slick uptown lawyer had still explained it all away. Twelve upstanding men and women, and they'd still taken the word of a child-molesting murderer over that of an NYPD crime scene detective. The injustice of it all makes Danny's blood run cold. Jackson's, going to walk, and his sons are going to live in terror of the man that killed their mother for the rest of their lives. Danny's met them, talked to them, consoled Jake Jackson, the older one, through the tears that streamed helplessly down his face when he talked about his dad. They're good kids. They don't deserve this.
Their lawyer, Mike Mazzorro, a second cousin of Danny's on his mother's side, is equally confused. "I don't get it," he says over and over again when they eet outside the courtroom. "The case was airtight. How could they -"
Danny looks at him and has no words. He's not wearing his gun, not in court, but his figners itch for the trigger nonetheless. Mike's a good lawyer, even if he is a Mob one (a fact that Judge Springer probably noted, since she's presided over her fair share of Constantine-related cases), and he took this case pro bono at Danny's request when Luanne Bresnahan confided tearfully to Danny that she couldn't afford one. Right now Luanne goes to Mike to console him, but it doesn't take a genius to read the expression on her face and see she's mor in need of consolation than he is.
Jake wraps his arms around his brother. "I know you and Mr. Mazzorro did everything you could, Detective Messer," he says, trying to sound mature, but his voice breaks halfway through the sentence and he chokes out the last words through what look like incumbent tears. He grips Shane tighter, the scars standing out stark against his white face.
Danny rests a hand on his shoulder. "I'll take care of this, Jake," he says.
The terror doesn't flee the boy's face. "He's - we're not going to have to go back to him, are we?" he asks. "He's not going to - we can stay with Aunt Luanne, can't we?"
The alternative is too horrible to contemplate. Danny can't imagine havig to live with the bastard that molested him and killed his mother. "You won't have to live with him," he hears himself promise, and sees Jake's face relax slightly. "No court's going to grant a petition for custody from a guy that went up for murder one." He doesn't mention the child molestation charge, which Jake doesn't ened a reminder of. Shane's lucky he was enver touched, that Jake basically whored himself out to save his younger brother from the asshole that sired them both.
Shane grips at his brother with his good hand. the other one is still in a cast, plaster stretching from palm to elvow. He stares at Danny with wide green eyes. "Why aren't they making Dad go to jail?" he demands desperately. "Why are they being so dumb? He killed Mom, he deserves to - I don't want -" His face trembles and Jake holds him tighter.
Danny kneels down so they're on eye level. "Your dad will never touch you again," he promises solemnly. "He'll go away, and no one will ever see him again."
Jake looks up at that, but there's no sorrow or surprise in his face, just anger and a burning need for vengeance. "Really?" he says.
"I promise," Danny says.
*
Someone finds the body two days later. Mac and Stella work the case, but there's no evidence to close it and eventually it gets written off as unsolved. Danny sees the corpse when he's in the morgue talking to Zao about the decomp he and Flack are working. You bastard, he thinks before Hawkes pulls a sheet over his face. Your family's got a little justice. Rot in hell, you son of a bitch. He doesn't think of Tom Jackson again, but Jake Jackson sends him a Christmas card with "thank you!" written in blocky green letters a few months later. Danny sends one back, and makes sure Jake and Shane both get gift cards. Merry Christmas, he writes, and Happy New Year.
Feedback much appreciated, if you feel so inclined.