Hey hey - just wanted to say thanks for the feedback so far, it's
great to get some!!  I just also wanted to mention that you should
probably expect inaccuracies in this because I am NOT a lawyer and
I've been trying to get my head around the American justice system
with much difficulty!
~Triggersaurus
(http://www.geocities.com/er_trig/triggersfics.html)

Every Street - Chapter Three (see previous chapters for notes/ratings
etc)

Next day, the first to be sworn in was Dr. Kerry Weaver.  She avoided
looking at Doug, and Doug avoided looking at her.  If he did, he'd
just get more angry and he wasn't sure if he could take much more of
the rage that was already bubbling inside him, like a volcano about to
blow.  All he could hope was that he would manage to keep it down
until he got home that night.  He'd go to the park and take it all out
in a basketball game, or play some racquetball.except, he suddenly
realised, who would he play with?  Strictly speaking, he was still
"with" Carol, but she'd pushed him away over all this.  Mark, well he
was out of the question.  They were the only two from the hospital
associating with him right now, and they were barely doing that.  From
nowhere, he became conscious of the small circles that his life moved
in.  What now, after he'd seemingly ousted them from his life?  Well,
he thought, that may not be a problem.  After all, at this rate, you
can make some real good friends in prison.
He was jolted out of his reverie by DeVann, who had scraped his chair
back (and caused many to wince at the noise) and raised an objection.

"Where is the prosecution going with this?  It seems that we've been
through all this before, Your Honour."

Doug sat up a bit.  He'd been away in his thoughts and wasn't sure
what DeVann was referring to.

Judge Lomak looked at the assistant US attorney.  "Well?"

"Your Honour, the prosecution is trying to build up an image of Dr.
Ross's behaviour in the past."

Oh great, thought Doug. 

"To be honest, Counsellor, I think I have a good idea of that already,
and the jury are already asleep so I doubt that pressing Dr. Weaver
much further will be beneficial to any of us.  Did you have any other
questions for the witness?"

"Uh, no Your Honor."  Good lord, thought Doug.  The guy is actually
blushing.

"Defense?"

"No, Your Honor"

"In that case, witness is dismissed.  Call your next witness please."

Inwardly, Doug laughed.  Kerry was going to be pissed that she didn't
get her say in his downfall.

"The prosecution calls Richard Abbott."

Mr. Abbott rose from behind the desk he was sitting at with his team
of lawyers.  He walked dutifully up to the witness box and was sworn
in.  Despite the fact that Doug could never forgive him for what he
was doing here, he could now see the father behind the hard exterior.
This was just another parent who had lost his son.  What was he trying
to do with this court case?  Win his son back?  It came to Doug that
maybe, just maybe, Mr. Abbott wasn't that far removed from himself.
He couldn't imagine losing a child of his own, but losing someone near
to him.well, he was getting better at recognising his behaviour now
and he was pretty sure he'd either go out of his mind or go and beat
up on someone.  And that was more or less what Mr. Abbott was doing
now - but maybe in a more controlled manner.

"Mr. Abbott.  Your son, Ricky, how old was he when he died?"

"He was 10."

"And he suffered from Adrenal Leukodystrophy?"

"Yes."

"As did his brother before him?"

"Yes.  His brother died of it a few years ago.  Ricky was quite young
when it happened."

"And of course that means you'd been through the pain of losing a son
once before."

"Yes."

"What would you give to have one more day, one more hour with your
first son, Mr. Abbott?"

"Everything.  There are so many things that were left unsaid, and one
more day would have meant the world to me."

"Is this the way you feel about Ricky too?"

"Of course.  I never even got to say goodbye to him."

"Could you tell us what happened on the day Ricky died?"

"Objection!  Your Honour, how could Mr. Abbott know the full details
of that day when he was not present for it all?"

"Sustained."

"Mr. Abbott, can you tell us what you found when you went to see Ricky
on the 16th February?"

"I went up to Ricky's room and found him in his bed, strapped to all
these machines, as he normally was, except there was a new one which I
could see was administering something called Dilaudid.  Joi.Ricky's
mother.she was sitting by the bed looking at him, and he was all
screwed up because of the pain he had been in.  But he was really
cold, and when I touched his cheek, Joi started crying and I knew he
was dead.  She started saying something about a doctor helping Ricky
and that's when I called 911 to get him to the hospital.  She told me
on the way there that Dr. Ross, " he pointed at Doug, "had given her
this machine and the code to put Ricky to sleep so he wouldn't feel
any more pain.

Doug very nearly lost it.  He had to hang on to the last bit of
self-control he had just to stay seated with his mouth shut.  The guy
was lying under oath!  Now it was going to be his word against Mr.
Abbott's, and no-one was ever going to believe him, thanks to the
damage done by Bernstein, Mark and whatever Kerry had said before
she'd been removed.  Why wasn't his idiot lawyer doing something about
it? This wasn't fair.  Behind him, Carol shifted a little.

"What happened when you arrived at the hospital?"

He'll probably tell them I punched HIM now, Doug thought.

"They tried to revive Ricky, but it seemed it was too late to save
him," he took a deep breath, "and I found out that it was Dr. Ross
that had treated my son, and, well, I hit him."  He looked down at his
feet.  He might as well have cried for the jury - Doug was surprised
his lawyers hadn't pep-talked him into it.

"Why did you hit him, Mr Abbott?"

"Because I was angry.  I was grief stricken - I'd just lost my little
boy and I needed to lash out.  But also because he'd killed Ricky."

"Objection," Thank god the guy was awake, "Witness is assuming the
defendant's guilt."

"Sustained - members of the jury, please disregard the last statement.
 Mr. Abbott, please be more careful"

"Sorry, Your Honor."

"Mr. Abbott.  Your son's disease.Adrenal Leukodystrophy.  This is a
fatal disease that only affects boys and leads to inevitable death -
no-one has ever lived beyond the age of 12, is that right?"

"That's correct."

"And this disease, it attacks the body systems so that the victims are
unable to move or speak in the later stages?"

"Yes.  Ricky couldn't get around himself from the age of about 9.when
he died he wasn't able to speak."

"He couldn't speak??"

"No."

"So he was not able to communicate at all?"

"Well, his mother says she could tell what he wanted, but I don't know
how because Ricky couldn't move at all - he had no means of
communication."

"Mr. Abbott, do you think Ricky wanted to die?"

"No.  Ricky didn't want to die."

"Objection, Your Honor!  If Ricky couldn't communicate, then how can
Mr Abbott be so sure that he didn't want to die??"

Before His Honor could say anything, Counsellor Sullivan turned.
"Well that would be exactly the question wouldn't it?  After all, if
Mr. Abbott can't be sure that his own flesh and blood wanted to die,
how can some strange doctor know that he did want to die??"

"Order in court!!"  Judge Lomak was not happy.  "Counsel, approach the
bench."

Oh boy, he totally walked into that, Doug despaired to himself.  He
rubbed an eye with the heel of his palm, head bent forward.
After some angry murmuring, the two attorneys returned to their places
- Clifton DeVann back to his chair chewing his pen frustratedly, and
Sullivan in front of the witness box.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Abbott.  No further questions."  He
strode back to his seat.

DeVann rose from his chair once more.
"Mr. Abbott, you said that your son's disease was ultimately fatal."

"Yes, I did."

"So, Ricky would have died eventually, irrespective of anything else?"

"Well of course, I just said that didn't I?"

DeVann put his hands up and raised his eyebrows, giving it a moment
for dramatic emphasis.
"How long did your son have left to live before he, um.before he
died?"

Oh God, good one Clifton, Doug berated.

"You mean before, uh, " Mr. Abbott nodded in Doug's direction.

"Before he." Clifton stumbled, trying to find the right word.

The crash of the gavel made more than a few people in the room jump.
"Move on, Counsellor DeVann.  You've dug yourself a hole that I don't
want to sit around listening to you trying to get out of."

"I, ahem.what was your son's life expectancy on the 16th February?"

"He was expected to last maybe another day as far as we knew, probably
more like hours."

"Was he in much pain, as far as it was possible to tell?"

"I guess so - he was on high doses of painkillers."

"You guess so?  Why do you say that, Mr. Abbott?"

"I, uh.  I don't know, it's a phrase."

"Don't you mean something more along the lines of 'I'm not really
sure'?"

Mr. Abbott looked confused and flicked a glance at his attorneys, who
looked just as mystified as him.

"Well, um, I.I'm sorry, I don't really understand the question."

"Why wouldn't you have known how much pain your son may have been in?"

"Because he couldn't communicate it?"

"Aside from the obvious, please Mr. Abbott.  What you really mean is
that you didn't see that much of your son to really know him, did
you?"

"Objection!!  Defense is trying to suggest witness was a bad father!"

"I don't think he was implying that - were you implying that, Mr.
DeVann?"

"No, Your Honor.  I was merely querying how much time he spent with
his son."

"Objection overruled."

"How often did you see Ricky?"

"I saw him every other weekend."

"Out of choice?"

"It was in the custody settlement after the divorce between Ricky's
mother and myself."

"Are you sure Mr. Abbott?  It says here," Clifton waved a piece of
official looking paper around, "that you had visiting rights for every
weekend.  Not every other weekend.  Surely you would take these
opportunities to see your son?"

Mr. Abbott cleared his throat and said nothing.

"Why didn't you visit your son, Richard?  If he only had a few weeks
left, why didn't you go and see him the weekend before he died?"

"I.I was busy.  I had a work arrangement."

"Are you sure?  Don't forget, you are under oath."

"I'm sure."

"Okay.but you didn't see Ricky very often, is that fair to say?"

"Yes."

"So, would it be possible to put it to you that maybe Dr. Ross here,
with his full medical qualifications, who had spent the better part of
14 days treating your son - even taking time out of his social hours
to visit Ricky at home - would know how he felt more than you did??"
Mr. Abbott, red in the face through anger, said nothing but stared at
the lawyer before him and at Doug behind the lawyer.  His own team,
looking at each other surreptitiously, decided that maybe they could
object in a hope of getting away from the question.

"Objection!  Defense is talking in hypotheticals."

"Counselor, need I point out your own line of prosecution earlier on
today?  Sit down and shut up."

This guy is a real hard-ass, thought Doug.  And I like it!

"Mr. Abbott, will you please answer the question."

The man remained silent, glowering in his witness box, dropping his
head when he could face DeVann no longer.  He still said nothing.

"Mr. Abbott?  Was there a chance Dr. Ross knew your sons final needs
better than you did?"

The silence was the heaviest that anyone in the courtroom had ever
felt.
"It is possible."  The whisper came.

"Thank you.  No further questions, Your Honor."

The room rumbled with scattered whispers.

"The prosecution calls Dr. Douglas Ross."

to be continued