PSL 02: Fresh Air

[theansweris]

It took Ed four days, and most of that seemed to be waiting for approval from one office to go to the next office and get approved further along the line. Then they had to give appropriate notice and argue among themselves until it was agreed that it had to proceed, even with the objections from the DA and the GCPD.

The allowed clothing was restricted, but for the court appearance, Oswald was given some of his own clothes back, even if just his shirt, pants and jacket.

The session was mostly reading a list of the charges Oswald had been convicted of and the lawyer using Ed's neatly produced list to cite off why each of those was unsound and would require, at minimum, re-trial with due consideration to the burden of proof and threshold of prosecution.

It was a long, long session. But it ended with the conclusion that the state could not hold Oswald at this interval and thus

"-Mr Cobblepot, it is the finding of this court that your conviction was unsound and thus, you are free to leave this court. This is not a finding of not guilty, nor an absolution of charges, but a legal determination that the burden of proof has not been met."

There were reporters outside, of course. There were also several men in suits by a limo that was ready and waiting to whisk Oswald and his lawyer off.

From there, it was a drive. Out and to the Van Dahl manor, past the gates to keep out intruders and press and there, waiting on the stoop, was Ed, hands laced and a smile on his face as the car pulled up.

Comments

[hobblepot]

[The long road to freedom begins with being startled out of sleep at five in the morning - first by the sound of his door jarring open and then by the hand around his arm, a gruff voice. He's more awake by the time he is subjected to the indignity of one last search - prying fingers and penlights reminding him that his aching body still belonged to the penitentiary down to the very last second - and brought before the court dressed in some of his old clothes. The verdict is everything Ed promised it would be, but he feels less triumphant than he knows he should be, and than he knows he will feel once he's at home, settled in his own bed over fresh, dryer-hot sheets with an aspirin in him. There is little room to stop and breathe before the press swarm him like vultures, thrusting mics and cameras at him for a sound bite. Before ducking inside the waiting limo, he wets his lips and looks around and leaves them with the following: 'today, we have witnessed the triumph of justice -- and it is my sincere hope that all others who stand trial in the days to come shall be tried fairly, as is their right, and not be made to suffer as long or as cruelly as I have.'

He's too tired to consider the possible repercussions of anything he has said once he drops into his seat and leans his head against the window, not realizing he has fallen asleep until the car rolls to a gentle stop in front of the Van Dahl mansion. A jolt of adrenaline snaps him upright.

He knuckles away the drool at the corner of his mouth and fumbles to open his seatbelt, shoving his way out of the car. Ed is just ahead, waiting with a smile so welcome Oswald could cry. He quickens his pace with a ragged, panting sort of laugh, stumbling his way to Ed, into Ed. Chin bumping Ed's chest as he puts his arms around him like a drowning man and all but collapses into him, sobbing his relief into his shirt.

Ed is home.

His fingers tighten around the back of Ed's suit jacket. Needy, a child's grip.]