Abyss (R) (Smash) Part 17
Title: Abyss
Author: blackpoetcat
Rating: R
Character: Derek Wills
Disclaimer: NBC owns all, just playing drama with
Summary: Everyone knows he doesn't give a shit about anything but the show. So when Derek's life capsizes, will anyone give a shit about him?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,
Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16
Abyss - 17
The moment Bellamy locked eyes with Derek after Tom had returned to his place next to Sam was the moment Derek felt his legs turning to jelly. As much as he had hoped to get away, he knew quite well that he had no choice but to testify himself. But despite everything already spread about him, Derek was terrified to be forced to unfurl his intimate feelings and share the sheer endless abyss he was certain to drown in. And on top of that, he would have to face the whole audience, the reporters and -- worst of all -- Tracy’s parents.
“I call Derek Wills to the stand.”
With a deep breath Derek got up and carefully made his way to the stand, concentrating on the empty seat. When he turned, the clerk approached him with the Bible and asked him to place his left hand upon it and raise the other.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“I swear.”
Not that he had ever been a religious person; nevertheless he wouldn’t dare break an oath, let alone at court. Not only because it was a crime, but because he believed in the truth. At least when he knew it...
After he took his seat, he strictly focused on his attorney who stood right in front of him to support his efforts.
“Mr. Wills. We learned a lot today of your character and your habits, especially with women. Would you say those reports were immoderate?”
In an involuntary gesture, Derek bit his lower lip before he hesitantly answered.
“No, I think they were quite correct.”
“Then I don’t understand why you practically drowned yourself in Scotch that night at all. I mean, a man who needs to be in control, to concentrate on a difficult task like the upcoming show should not drink himself into oblivion, should he?” Bellamy inquired in a quiet but determined voice, never leaving Derek’s eyes.
The sudden lump in his throat seemed to grow in mere seconds; his hands searched for something to clutch and finally clung to his chair’s armrests. But despite his fear and the desperate attempt of his nerves to clench his jaw shut, after some moments he managed to bite the bullet and confess what he fought since that fateful night.
“That evening, I left the theatre right after the preview and took a cab to... to the hospital…”
Though he still tried to only look at Bellamy, who raised his brows, Derek also saw Tom’s and Sam’s eyes widen in astonishment before he continued.
“Ivy... she was already sleeping when I saw her, but... it was no relaxing sleep. She... she was tossing and turning, her hands were constantly moving as if searching for a hold, her lips trembled and...”
His voice nearly cracked over the memory he had tried to bury deep inside him for two and a half months now. The picture of her in that condition still haunted him, even more than his foggy memory of Tracy. He swallowed; his gaze went distant, flickered across the room and he desperately tried to concentrate on Bellamy again, but to no avail. And then he saw her.
Her striking blonde hair hidden beneath a dark headscarf, Ivy blended in perfectly with the audience, but now stared at him with an astounded expression and suspiciously shimmering eyes. Of course Derek was not prepared to meet her. Her being exempted from testifying meant she was not supposed to be attending at all. But as shocked as he was, part of him felt relieved that she would learn of his deep regrets first hand. So he accepted the unexpected chance -- and addressed her directly, no longer able to stay impersonal.
“There were tears on your cheeks,” he began, his voice still uncomfortably hoarse. “You looked so helpless, so fragile... And I knew -- and still know -- that I am responsible for every last bit of despair and pain you suffered. I know it, Ivy! And I couldn’t stand it.”
Out of his emotional turmoil and nervousness, Derek ran one hand through his hair before he hastily continued when the audience started to whisper and turn to her in surprise.
“I just couldn’t stand it. I mean... when we met, I thought we were of the same kind. Sharing work and beds, having fun… But I never thought you would feel more! Or that you were not as strong as you always appeared. You see, I was certain it was the steroids when you started to change. I... I’m sorry, Ivy -- it never occurred to me that you were in real need of help and support. Of course not.” He snorted in disdain over his own inability to care back then.
“But when I saw you in the hospital, in that horrible condition... it was the worst moment of my life since... well, long ago. And I badly needed something to distract me from thinking about you, so I fled the hospital, wandered around for some time until I discovered a bar and grabbed the chance to drown the sight. But... it didn’t work,” he confessed with a desperate, hard laugh. “I still see you. I still remember everything before the black-out…”
Not until he tasted the salt on his lips did Derek realize that it was not only Ivy who was crying quietly, but he didn’t care.
“I won’t ask for your forgiveness, because what I did is unforgivable, but I apologize sincerely. And I hope you will recover soon and find the happiness you deserve,” he added before he wiped his eyes and turned his attention back to Bellamy, trying to shield from the constantly growing mumbling in the audience.
“Now you know.”
“And I thank you for that,” his attorney said with a warm smile, not only ignoring the audience, but raising his voice.
To Derek it seemed that this was how his lawyer tried to cover Nichols’ angry remark about unreliable persons who just pretend to be unable to testify. He felt sincerely grateful for Bellamy protecting Ivy, if also exhausted after not only pouring his intimate feelings out at all, but to her in particular.
“How about Ms. Peterson? Do you see her, too?” the attorney asked, and at once the audience went silent and their attention returned to the stand.
“What I remember of her, yes,” Derek affirmed. “Her smile, when we clinked glasses in that bar, and the photo the police showed me.”
“And how do you feel about her?” Bellamy inquired further.
“I am not sure…”
Derek lowered his head and pressed his lips together for a moment before he continued.
“When the officers told me about her, and how she died, I was shocked. And I tried to remember, I really did! But there was nothing more. Still is nothing more. Only... whenever I look into a mirror or explore my deepest feelings, there is no change whatsoever. I mean, yes... I have changed in some way, as Tom said; but... from the very beginning, I couldn’t feel anything but sorrow about her death in general. I don’t feel guilty or more uncomfortable with myself than before that night.”
His lawyer nodded while Nichols made a noise similar to the snort he let out towards Tom. The audience was whispering, but not disturbing.
“So you thought a lot about Ms. Lynn and Ms. Peterson. How about Ms. Cartwright? From Mr. Sundaram’s testimony I remember you claimed her to be yours?” Bellamy inquired, causing a short and bitter laugh from Derek before he explained:
“Yes, I did say ‘she’s mine’; but I definitely wasn’t referring to any relationship other than professional. You see, I trained and built her up, formed her to a perfect Marilyn. You can compare us with, let’s say, a sculptor and his piece of art. Her boyfriend’s attitude turned out to be an unacceptable distraction, so I thought it necessary to keep him from her. After all, she is meant to be a Broadway star, not some adornment for an overambitious politician!”
“Objection,” came promptly from Nichols. “The defendant has no right to insult Mr. Sundaram or his sincere feelings for Ms. Cartwright!”
Both Derek and his attorney rolled their eyes simultaneously, while Judge Salamon knocked once to silence the murmuring audience.
“Sustained. Disregard the defendant's last sentence,” she advised the clerk and the jury, but to Nichols’ and Dev’s visible annoyance made no further remarks or warnings. “Go on, Mr. Bellamy.”
“Thank you, Your Honour. I have one last question, Mr. Wills. Did you ever tie or gag a sex partner?”
“No.”
“Not even when they asked you to?”
“No, never.” Derek shook his head. “I don’t like bondage or anything similar. I rather prefer my companions moving and reacting to me naturally.”
“Thank you.”
When Bellamy went back to the defendant’s table Derek sighed quietly and exchanged a quick glance and smile with Tom who seemed to visibly approve of Derek’s testimony, unlike Nichols who now approached the stand with an expression of clear disbelief.
“That was truly moving. But I suppose you had acting lessons before you concentrated on directing, hadn’t you?”
“Objection!” The angry voice of Bellamy sounded like thunder.
“Sustained. Clerk, discard that but add a reprimand to protocol. Prosecution deputy Nichols will face a disciplinary hearing for constant contempt of court. One more lapse and I will suspend trial and have you replaced!” Judge Salamon pronounced in a determined, cold tone.
Though Nichols apologized through gritted teeth it was obvious that he would rather nail Derek to the next cross. But he pulled himself together and managed to stay calm.
“Well then, let’s talk about the facts. You claim to not feel guilty about Ms. Peterson’s horrible death. Did you ever see the forensic photos of the dead body?”
Just the very thought of those made Derek’s stomach flip and for a few seconds he was only capable of nodding, and needed to take a deep breath before answering.
“My attorney showed me once.”
“And how did you react?”
“I was shocked to the bones and felt sick. I even... well, I threw up as soon as I returned to my cell. You can ask the guards about that.”
Nichols waved a hand disinterestedly and inquired:
“And why did you never address the victim’s family? If you are as innocent as you claim to be, I see no reason to avoid them.”
With that, he gestured to Tracy’s parents whose expression of hate and disdain hadn’t changed in the least. The sight made Derek swallow hard, because he still felt anxious about talking to them. But he knew quite well that he couldn’t avoid them forever, especially if the jury convicted him, so he finally submitted to the inevitable.
“I wanted to. I have written at least a dozen letters to them, in which I tried to explain my feelings, my sorrow about involving Tracy in my crisis, offered my sincere condolences, but...”
Again Derek ran a hand through his hair, shook his head afterwards before he looked at the couple.
“When I read them over, the words just seemed hollow phrases, no matter how hard I fought to express the way I feel, and didn’t dare to send any of them. I mean, you've lost your child! How can I ever say or write anything to make you believe me how sorry I really am?”
“You’re right, we won’t believe you,” Mr. Peterson spoke for the first time.
“If I were you, I probably wouldn’t believe me either,” Derek confessed and wiped a single tear from his eye. “But... if I am found guilty and sentenced, you will at least have some kind of comfort, if only by the satisfaction of my punishment. I, on the other hand will never rest until I die. Because whether I go free or go to prison, I will probably never know if I am responsible for her death!”
“You are not!”
Continued in Part 18
Author: blackpoetcat
Rating: R
Character: Derek Wills
Disclaimer: NBC owns all, just playing drama with
Summary: Everyone knows he doesn't give a shit about anything but the show. So when Derek's life capsizes, will anyone give a shit about him?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,
Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16
Abyss - 17
The moment Bellamy locked eyes with Derek after Tom had returned to his place next to Sam was the moment Derek felt his legs turning to jelly. As much as he had hoped to get away, he knew quite well that he had no choice but to testify himself. But despite everything already spread about him, Derek was terrified to be forced to unfurl his intimate feelings and share the sheer endless abyss he was certain to drown in. And on top of that, he would have to face the whole audience, the reporters and -- worst of all -- Tracy’s parents.
“I call Derek Wills to the stand.”
With a deep breath Derek got up and carefully made his way to the stand, concentrating on the empty seat. When he turned, the clerk approached him with the Bible and asked him to place his left hand upon it and raise the other.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“I swear.”
Not that he had ever been a religious person; nevertheless he wouldn’t dare break an oath, let alone at court. Not only because it was a crime, but because he believed in the truth. At least when he knew it...
After he took his seat, he strictly focused on his attorney who stood right in front of him to support his efforts.
“Mr. Wills. We learned a lot today of your character and your habits, especially with women. Would you say those reports were immoderate?”
In an involuntary gesture, Derek bit his lower lip before he hesitantly answered.
“No, I think they were quite correct.”
“Then I don’t understand why you practically drowned yourself in Scotch that night at all. I mean, a man who needs to be in control, to concentrate on a difficult task like the upcoming show should not drink himself into oblivion, should he?” Bellamy inquired in a quiet but determined voice, never leaving Derek’s eyes.
The sudden lump in his throat seemed to grow in mere seconds; his hands searched for something to clutch and finally clung to his chair’s armrests. But despite his fear and the desperate attempt of his nerves to clench his jaw shut, after some moments he managed to bite the bullet and confess what he fought since that fateful night.
“That evening, I left the theatre right after the preview and took a cab to... to the hospital…”
Though he still tried to only look at Bellamy, who raised his brows, Derek also saw Tom’s and Sam’s eyes widen in astonishment before he continued.
“Ivy... she was already sleeping when I saw her, but... it was no relaxing sleep. She... she was tossing and turning, her hands were constantly moving as if searching for a hold, her lips trembled and...”
His voice nearly cracked over the memory he had tried to bury deep inside him for two and a half months now. The picture of her in that condition still haunted him, even more than his foggy memory of Tracy. He swallowed; his gaze went distant, flickered across the room and he desperately tried to concentrate on Bellamy again, but to no avail. And then he saw her.
Her striking blonde hair hidden beneath a dark headscarf, Ivy blended in perfectly with the audience, but now stared at him with an astounded expression and suspiciously shimmering eyes. Of course Derek was not prepared to meet her. Her being exempted from testifying meant she was not supposed to be attending at all. But as shocked as he was, part of him felt relieved that she would learn of his deep regrets first hand. So he accepted the unexpected chance -- and addressed her directly, no longer able to stay impersonal.
“There were tears on your cheeks,” he began, his voice still uncomfortably hoarse. “You looked so helpless, so fragile... And I knew -- and still know -- that I am responsible for every last bit of despair and pain you suffered. I know it, Ivy! And I couldn’t stand it.”
Out of his emotional turmoil and nervousness, Derek ran one hand through his hair before he hastily continued when the audience started to whisper and turn to her in surprise.
“I just couldn’t stand it. I mean... when we met, I thought we were of the same kind. Sharing work and beds, having fun… But I never thought you would feel more! Or that you were not as strong as you always appeared. You see, I was certain it was the steroids when you started to change. I... I’m sorry, Ivy -- it never occurred to me that you were in real need of help and support. Of course not.” He snorted in disdain over his own inability to care back then.
“But when I saw you in the hospital, in that horrible condition... it was the worst moment of my life since... well, long ago. And I badly needed something to distract me from thinking about you, so I fled the hospital, wandered around for some time until I discovered a bar and grabbed the chance to drown the sight. But... it didn’t work,” he confessed with a desperate, hard laugh. “I still see you. I still remember everything before the black-out…”
Not until he tasted the salt on his lips did Derek realize that it was not only Ivy who was crying quietly, but he didn’t care.
“I won’t ask for your forgiveness, because what I did is unforgivable, but I apologize sincerely. And I hope you will recover soon and find the happiness you deserve,” he added before he wiped his eyes and turned his attention back to Bellamy, trying to shield from the constantly growing mumbling in the audience.
“Now you know.”
“And I thank you for that,” his attorney said with a warm smile, not only ignoring the audience, but raising his voice.
To Derek it seemed that this was how his lawyer tried to cover Nichols’ angry remark about unreliable persons who just pretend to be unable to testify. He felt sincerely grateful for Bellamy protecting Ivy, if also exhausted after not only pouring his intimate feelings out at all, but to her in particular.
“How about Ms. Peterson? Do you see her, too?” the attorney asked, and at once the audience went silent and their attention returned to the stand.
“What I remember of her, yes,” Derek affirmed. “Her smile, when we clinked glasses in that bar, and the photo the police showed me.”
“And how do you feel about her?” Bellamy inquired further.
“I am not sure…”
Derek lowered his head and pressed his lips together for a moment before he continued.
“When the officers told me about her, and how she died, I was shocked. And I tried to remember, I really did! But there was nothing more. Still is nothing more. Only... whenever I look into a mirror or explore my deepest feelings, there is no change whatsoever. I mean, yes... I have changed in some way, as Tom said; but... from the very beginning, I couldn’t feel anything but sorrow about her death in general. I don’t feel guilty or more uncomfortable with myself than before that night.”
His lawyer nodded while Nichols made a noise similar to the snort he let out towards Tom. The audience was whispering, but not disturbing.
“So you thought a lot about Ms. Lynn and Ms. Peterson. How about Ms. Cartwright? From Mr. Sundaram’s testimony I remember you claimed her to be yours?” Bellamy inquired, causing a short and bitter laugh from Derek before he explained:
“Yes, I did say ‘she’s mine’; but I definitely wasn’t referring to any relationship other than professional. You see, I trained and built her up, formed her to a perfect Marilyn. You can compare us with, let’s say, a sculptor and his piece of art. Her boyfriend’s attitude turned out to be an unacceptable distraction, so I thought it necessary to keep him from her. After all, she is meant to be a Broadway star, not some adornment for an overambitious politician!”
“Objection,” came promptly from Nichols. “The defendant has no right to insult Mr. Sundaram or his sincere feelings for Ms. Cartwright!”
Both Derek and his attorney rolled their eyes simultaneously, while Judge Salamon knocked once to silence the murmuring audience.
“Sustained. Disregard the defendant's last sentence,” she advised the clerk and the jury, but to Nichols’ and Dev’s visible annoyance made no further remarks or warnings. “Go on, Mr. Bellamy.”
“Thank you, Your Honour. I have one last question, Mr. Wills. Did you ever tie or gag a sex partner?”
“No.”
“Not even when they asked you to?”
“No, never.” Derek shook his head. “I don’t like bondage or anything similar. I rather prefer my companions moving and reacting to me naturally.”
“Thank you.”
When Bellamy went back to the defendant’s table Derek sighed quietly and exchanged a quick glance and smile with Tom who seemed to visibly approve of Derek’s testimony, unlike Nichols who now approached the stand with an expression of clear disbelief.
“That was truly moving. But I suppose you had acting lessons before you concentrated on directing, hadn’t you?”
“Objection!” The angry voice of Bellamy sounded like thunder.
“Sustained. Clerk, discard that but add a reprimand to protocol. Prosecution deputy Nichols will face a disciplinary hearing for constant contempt of court. One more lapse and I will suspend trial and have you replaced!” Judge Salamon pronounced in a determined, cold tone.
Though Nichols apologized through gritted teeth it was obvious that he would rather nail Derek to the next cross. But he pulled himself together and managed to stay calm.
“Well then, let’s talk about the facts. You claim to not feel guilty about Ms. Peterson’s horrible death. Did you ever see the forensic photos of the dead body?”
Just the very thought of those made Derek’s stomach flip and for a few seconds he was only capable of nodding, and needed to take a deep breath before answering.
“My attorney showed me once.”
“And how did you react?”
“I was shocked to the bones and felt sick. I even... well, I threw up as soon as I returned to my cell. You can ask the guards about that.”
Nichols waved a hand disinterestedly and inquired:
“And why did you never address the victim’s family? If you are as innocent as you claim to be, I see no reason to avoid them.”
With that, he gestured to Tracy’s parents whose expression of hate and disdain hadn’t changed in the least. The sight made Derek swallow hard, because he still felt anxious about talking to them. But he knew quite well that he couldn’t avoid them forever, especially if the jury convicted him, so he finally submitted to the inevitable.
“I wanted to. I have written at least a dozen letters to them, in which I tried to explain my feelings, my sorrow about involving Tracy in my crisis, offered my sincere condolences, but...”
Again Derek ran a hand through his hair, shook his head afterwards before he looked at the couple.
“When I read them over, the words just seemed hollow phrases, no matter how hard I fought to express the way I feel, and didn’t dare to send any of them. I mean, you've lost your child! How can I ever say or write anything to make you believe me how sorry I really am?”
“You’re right, we won’t believe you,” Mr. Peterson spoke for the first time.
“If I were you, I probably wouldn’t believe me either,” Derek confessed and wiped a single tear from his eye. “But... if I am found guilty and sentenced, you will at least have some kind of comfort, if only by the satisfaction of my punishment. I, on the other hand will never rest until I die. Because whether I go free or go to prison, I will probably never know if I am responsible for her death!”
“You are not!”
Continued in Part 18