Words You Wouldn't Say

"There is no doubt for anyone in this room," Brodrick began, "that Jace Richards brutally tortured Maxwell Meza last month." He turned to the jury. "He says, however, that he did not intend to kill Maxwell." His hands folded behind his back, and he didn't fidget again as he said, "How can that be, I ask you? How can that be when Richards tortured Maxwell to the point of near-death? How can it be when, if not for Chester Bennington, Rob Bourdon, and Michael Shinoda, Maxwell Meza would be dead?"

He turned back to his desk, procured two documents, handed one to the defense and one to the judge, and went on. "What I am showing you right now is a record of Maxwell's health at the time of his admittance to the emergency room of the hospital. Records clearly state that Maxwell was near death - he was in a coma for a week as a result of the damage inflicted upon him." Max swallowed. He hated that Brodrick was using his name so much, but he understood the purpose. Brodrick wasn't defending Maxwell alone, he was defending all of Jace's victims, and by using Maxwell's name, he was humanizing Max while dehumanizing Jace. "Is this truly the kind of damage one inflicts to torture but not kill? Would he not at least tend to the damages he inflicted?"

The documents were passed among the jury, and once it had made the rounds, Brodrick turned to the judge. "I'd like to call my first witness, your honor." The judge nodded and Brodrick called Maxwell forward.

He stood, flattening his shirt, swallowed, and made his way to the stand where Chester and Rob had been not long ago. He was sworn in, and then he sat, keeping his eyes on Brodrick as the attorney turned to him.

"Maxwell Meza," he stated, and Max nodded. "Do you recognize the defendant?"

"Yes."

"And who is he?"

"Jace Richards."

"How did you meet him?"

"We met in class," Max said. He could see Jace's family fidgeting behind Brodrick. "The professor assigned a group project, and he and the woman sitting next to him offered to join the group with me and my friend."

"I understand that Ryan Coyne was assigned to your group, as well." Maxwell nodded.

"He didn't have a group, and my friend offered for him to join us." Max swallowed, remembering the goofy smile Ryan had when he thanked them.

"You said you had a relationship with Ryan?"

"No," Max said tenderly. "He asked me on a date while I was on break during work. I didn't really know him but I didn't see a reason not to, because he seemed nice."

"And he never showed."

"No," Maxwell said. "I found out when I returned home that he'd been found in an alley."

"Because his alarm was going off." Maxwell nodded. "An alarm that stated your name explicitly." He nodded again. "What happened at your next class?"

"I showed up, and the girls in my group were already there. Jace showed up at the last minute, so none of us were able to talk to him." He could feel Jace's eyes boring into him, and reflected that he got his eyes from his mother. "When the professor walked in, he called us down to speak with him and gave us a week's extension. Then he told the others to go and asked to speak to me, alone."

"What did he say?"

"That Ryan was his nephew," Maxwell said just loud enough for the court to hear. He wanted so desperately to hide. "He asked me to be careful and sent me on my way." Brodrick gestured for him to go on. "I met up with the group outside and we decided to meet up the next day after my shift at a bar down the street from where I work."

"But when you got there, only Jace was there." Maxwell nodded.

"He said that Andrea had to cancel, so they'd all decided to meet up on a different day and that he remained behind to let me know since no one had a way to contact me."

Brodrick held up a hand and pulled out more papers from his desk. One went to the defense's table, and one to the judge. "I have here a testimony from Andrea Walkers, one of the young women in the group working with Maxwell and Ryan on their project. According to her, she had never canceled; Richards called them to say that he and Maxwell had discussed it and moved the date to that Thursday. Melody Shaller confirms this." As the paper was passed around, he turned back to Maxwell. "Please, continue."

"It was really cold," Maxwell said. "I got into the bar and Jace came up immediately and handed me a drink, which I thought would warm me up, and then he led me back outside and said we wouldn't be meeting tonight. I was already numb from the cold, so I didn't notice it was getting worse. He said he knew a shortcut back to my apartment, so I followed him, and..." He paused and swallowed again. "I blacked out after a few blocks."

There was a silence in the courthouse. The defense didn't look surprised. After a while, Brodrick said, "Please, if you can, continue."

Maxwell dropped his gaze, hands balling into fists to keep his composure. He took a deep breath, then looked back up at Brodrick and went on. "When I came to, Jace was tying me to a table. He said it was easier that way."

"What was?"

"Hurting us."

"Us? Not you?" Max shook his head.

"He definitely meant more than one." He swallowed and said, "What he said was, 'Gonna put you this way first. Easier to get the cuts the way I like them. It's been the easiest way to hurt all of you.'" He could vividly remember the malicious way those gray eyes had leered at him, the way that mouth had twisted into a smirk. Remembered begging him to stop. He closed his eyes briefly, remembered the dull light of the basement he'd been held in. "When I woke up again, he'd turned me over. Said he had to brand me, like the others."

"Brand you?" Max nodded.

"I didn't know what he meant, until Michael was changing my bandages and he saw it." He blinked, but he couldn't help the tears that came to his eyes. "He carved the word faggot into my back." He scrubbed at his face angrily, telling himself he couldn't cry, not with everyone watching. "I woke up a few times. At one point, blood had started trickling down into my eye. By the time Michael and the other had found me, it covered half of my face. Moving made the cuts feel like they were ripping."

"And the cuts covered most of your upper body?" Maxwell nodded.

"He said he was saving the bottom half for after I was dead," he said. "Said he'd..." He paused, glancing at Jace for the first time. He was watching, laughter in his eyes but the rest of his face dead serious. Max looked away, ready to throw up again. "He said he'd cut off my dick and stuff it in my ass. A cherry on the top."

He heard scraping, and Chester was standing, getting ready to launch himself over the gate. Rob grabbed him and Mike pushed him back down, but security stepped up, pulling Chester out of the room and threatening to take Mike and Rob too if they didn't sit down and shut up.

Jace's mother was covering her mouth with her hand. The man sitting next to her was glaring at the wood in front of him, while the younger boy sitting on her other side stared at Max in horror. Max didn't look at them again.

Brodrick was passing out papers again. Max caught a glimpse of them as he handed a copy to the judge; they were pictures of the other victims, as well as a picture of his back that was probably taken at the hospital.

"These are all the murder victims from the past few months," Brodrick said as the judge looked at them and handed them to the bailiff to give to the jury. "They all share two things in common - that word carved into their backs, and their privates removed and inserted into their anal cavities. Exactly as was described by my client. Attached is also a picture of the word carved into his own back."

The jury was making disgusted faces as they looked through the pictures. Max couldn't look at them, either.

"The link between these heinous acts is clear," Brodrick said decisively. "I've nothing more to ask of Mr. Meza." He sat down, and the defense stood up, giving Maxwell a look that he understood. His defendant was clearly guilty. He was just doing what he had to.

He buttoned his shirt and stepped up to Maxwell, mouth set in a hard line. After a few seconds, he said, "Mr. Meza, you say that you were on your back when that word was carved into your back?" Max nodded. "Is it possible that someone else could have done it?" Maxwell shook his head.

"It was his voice," he said. "There was only ever one set of footsteps."

"But you were unconscious often," the lawyer countered. "How could you know that no one else was ever there? Was doing those things to you?"

Maxwell studied the lawyer for a minute. "I don't know if anyone else was there," he said finally. "But I know that he was doing it. I saw him do it. I heard him, felt him. And it was definitely him who threatened to rape me with my own dick after I was dead, because I saw him say it."

The lawyer breathed slowly through his nose, then said, "You said that Michael Shinoda found the word on your back." Maxwell nodded. "What's your relation to Mr. Shinoda?" Maxwell's eyebrows shot up and his gaze flicked to Mike and back.

"At the time of my kidnapping," he started, choosing his words carefully, "we were just friends. His wife had kicked him out and was divorcing him, so I let him stay in my home."

"How did Mr. Shinoda find you?" he asked. Max glanced at Brodrick, then the judge, confused, but the judge just gestured for him to answer the question.

"He gave me a cell phone, the day before Jace took me. It was for emergencies. I got it after I last saw Jace, so he didn't know I had it."

"Why did he buy you a cell phone?" Maxwell paused, his eyes scrunching slightly.

"For emergencies," he restated. "There was a killer on the loose killing gay guys in my law class, he was worried."

"You said at the time you were just friends," the lawyer said. "Now?"

"I don't see how that's relevant," Maxwell said. The lawyer folded his hands behind his back.

"Defense has no more to ask of Maxwell," he said, before walking back to his desk.

The judge gestured for Maxwell to step down and he did, making his way back to Mike and Rob quickly, keeping his eyes on them. Rob smiled encouragingly, gripping his shoulder gently as Max sat down. The whole court was watching them.

"The jury will now take a recess to determine the verdict," the judge said. Everyone stood as he did and he stepped out of the room, the jury following soon after. Max breathed through his nose and glanced at Mike. "Call me back when they're done." He nodded and Maxwell stepped out of the courtroom. Chester was pacing just past the door, nostrils flaring in his anger.

He looked about ready to yell, but he saw Maxwell and his temper deflated.

"I'm sorry Max," he said. Max smiled slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I know I was supposed to be there for support, but all those things you were saying, it just made me wanna kill him." Chester was hugging him at the same time Max was leaning into the older man, and Max closed his eyes.

"You missed the best part," he mumbled. Chester hummed his question. "The defense got up and asked me what my relationship with Mike was." Chester laughed at that, and Max smiled at the way his head bounced against the older man's chest.

"Did you tell him you guys used to bang in his dorm room?" he asked. Max slapped at his side and Chester laughed again.

The hug was making him feel better. By the time Mike popped his head out to summon Max again, he felt loads better. Chester followed him into the room and swore to keep himself under control to the security, who looked satisfied and let him stay.

Chester sat on the outside of the row, blocking Max from view of the Richards family. Mike whispered quietly to tell Max what happened while he was in the hallway.

"The dad went off," he said quietly. "Telling the son he should be in jail for the awful things he's done to you and those other men. Telling him he wasted money on a good lawyer for a no good maniac of a son." Everyone stood for the judge, then sat when he was seated.

"Has the jury reached a decision?" he asked.

"We have, your honor," someone at the end of the row said. "It was a unanimous decision. Guilty on all counts."

The judge nodded, like he agreed with the statement. Maxwell closed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. He leaned heavily against Mike's shoulder as the judge ordered life in prison with no chance of parole. Jace was lead out of the room, and Max swallowed, smiling weakly when Chester and Rob gripped his shoulders.

They stood and Chester started leading the way out of the court room, but Max was stopped by the other Richards son. The only thing he had in common with Jace was the same grey eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I always knew there was something wrong with him."

Max stared at him for a few seconds, then said, "Then you should have told someone." He turned and followed Chester out of the courtroom, and Rob blocked the kid from following. Max ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath. He felt sick again.

"It's okay," Mike said, wrapping his arm around Max's shoulder. "It's over."

"That is," Max agreed.