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Chapter Text

Your hands were sweaty and shaky as you rose from your seat; your favorite turtleneck suddenly felt too constricting. It was late January in Conyers now, and you just thought it was chilly at thanksgiving.

You took a deep, steadying breath as you approached the witness stand; the old wood creaking under the weight of you. Both the defense and the prosecution deemed your expert testimony necessary for The People V. Keller Dover.

No matter how many times you testified in court, it still made you nervous. You'd think you'd be used to it by now, but every eye in the courtroom being on you was unnerving. But the nerves reminded you that you're human.

Your left hand rested steadily on the Bible, your right hand raised in familiar poise. You took the oath very seriously. You believed in justice. You just hoped the system wouldn't fail.

Your nerves settled for good upon finding David in the gallery. His usual scowl ingrained on his face.

He was fixated on Keller, eyes boring a hole in the back of his head.

If looks could kill.

Loki made damn well sure that there would be a case against Dover. He needed to be held accountable for what he did to Alex Jones Barry Milland.

You and Loki weren't sure if Keller Dover was really fucking smart or really fucking dumb. Keller had refused to take any deal the assistant district attorney offered, even though he was offered a damn good one. According to his lawyer, he would 'take any chance at getting to go home to his family.’

His lawyer tried and tried to explain why a jury trial was a bad idea. If Keller didn't take the plea deal, and the jury found him guilty on all counts, he would do at-least 20 years for kidnapping, aggravated assault, aggravated battery, torture, and whatever else the DA tacks on. It would add up to a lifetime.

Keller wouldn't hear it. He was sure if the jury heard his story, heard about Anna, if they saw a desperate father instead of a deliberate psychopath, then they would be sympathetic enough to find him not guilty by reason of temporary insanity.

You and Loki weren't sure almost worried that his plan would work.

Almost.

It was uncanny that Loki just so happened to find Mr. Dover in the first place, let alone finding him alive.

You knew David wouldn't stop until finding him, he'd solved every case he'd ever been assigned, remember?

You thought back to when you first got the call.

You put your key in the door in a hurry, eager to get some rest. Not that you didn't enjoy your time with detective Loki, but you were eager to sleep in your own bed and use your own bathroom. You swung your front door wide, luggage in tow; your home welcomed you like a warm hug.

You kicked off your shoes and drug your bags to bed bedroom.

Before you could do much of anything else, Your phone rang

You let out a groan. Couldn't this wait u til you got back in the office?

The called ID surprised you.

Your caller was none other than David Loki

"Miss me already?" You teased, picking up on the fourth ring.

"I found Dover! I-I found him."

You nearly dropped the phone.

"What?"

Your eyes scanned over to the Dover family.

Keller was trying to look as pitiful as he could in front of the jury, his crutches proudly perched next to him on the table.

He had nearly lost his leg due to his gunshot wound going untreated for hours. But by some miracle he was learning to walk on it again. Grace and the children sat directly behind him in the gallery. Grace Keller looked fucking tired. Not just tired, but plain worn out. You guessed the stress of your daughter being abducted and nearly dying, your husband nearly killing a man, and managing a household would do that to a person.

You wondered if she still stood by what she said when she and Anna visited Loki that day in the hospital. "He's a good man."

Was he, Grace? 

Behind them sat the Birch family. They marked the end of the people you recognized. The other spectators were just press and news personnel.

"Please state your name and profession to the jury." The district attorney, Julia, asked you. Or told you rather. From her reputation, Julia Williams didn't mess around.

You knew how this would go, and not because you'd spent the last two days doing trial prep, but because you'd done it many a time before.

It usually went something like this:

You stated your name and explained what you did and what your job was. Then you'd testify to the defendant's state of mind during the crime, citing evidence of course. Next you'd explain why or how the defendant knew or didn't know what they were doing was wrong. Therefore, in your professional opinion, should be found guilty-or not guilty- of the crime. Then, the defense would question you, try to discredit you, and ultimately fail- because you were damn good at your job.

Your eyes scanned the jury as you talked, it was only day two of the trail, but they already looked tired. Maybe the deliberation would be quick. The evidence against Dover proved he did it without a doubt, but the Dover family managed to afford a damn good lawyer. He wouldn't prove temporary insanity beyond reasonable doubt, not if you could help it.

As you looked back to Loki, he was already looking at you.

And he was smiling.

Chapter Text

The courtroom was seemingly quiet today, but really it was no different than past days. Maybe you were just ready for it to be over already. You were used to the stale air, creaky seats, and the rhythmic typing of the court reporter. You were on the witness stand again today for a bit, the defense had to cross examine you.

Oh what a joy

“Miss (L/N) you testified yesterday that you have been a forensic psychologist for over 5 years now, is that correct?”

Your eyes danced over the jury then to the gallery. The Dover family had dissipated- leaving only Grace. Yeah, your young kids probably shouldn’t watch their father be put on trial for violent crimes.

Your gaze finally landed on the Keller Dover’s lawyer, Grant Bentley. Who is standing closer to the witness stand -to you- than you’d like.

You and Loki had Googled Grant after the court session yesterday. Unfortunately- or fortunately- depending on how you wanted to look at it- he was indeed a good lawyer, and an expensive one too. The two usually went hand in hand. He was smug looking, a real daddy’s money type. In the words of David Loki, “fuck him and his perfectly straight, white teeth.” His comment lessened the tension in the air and earned a giggle from you. So he counted that as a win-win situation.

You could tell Loki was nervous about being called to the witness stand; with everything that blurred the ethical lines in this case, who could blame him.

-Yesterday-

David closed all the tabs he had open on the computer, gathered his coat and offered to walk you to the car. The trial has been exhausting thus far, and the winter night approached quickly after the sun went down.

You needed to rest; so did David, even though he’d never admit it.
He walked you to the rental car you had gotten, he held the door for you and stood by you in the cold to be sure it started. You bid him goodnight with a kiss on the cheek and you could’ve swore he wore a blush on his cheeks. And queue the butterflies in your belly.

- Present-

“Yes, that is correct. And it’s Doctor (L/N).”

“Okay, Doctor,” he emphasized -almost antagonizingly.

“You also stated that you analyze behavior, correct?”

“That’s correct.” You replied. You so badly wanted to roll your eyes. You had said all this yesterday.

“So, can you please explain why you didn’t analyze Mr. Dover and his behavior to prevent him from becoming temporarily insane and doing these to things to Barry Milland?”

The fucking audacity. Trying to spin this around to be your fault, what bullshit!

You cleared your throat, meeting Grant’s gaze.
Your posture didn’t waiver. You wanted to show him that you weren’t going to be intimidated by some overgrown frat boy in a suit and tie.
And that you certainly wouldn’t back down.

“I was on the case to find Joy Birch and Anna Dover, not to analyze their parents. There was no reason to profile Mr. Dover at the time.” Your answer simple. Factual.

“Why weren’t you able to form a criminal profile of an unknown subject, or unsub I believe you call it, and match it to Holly Jones? eliminating the issue at hand in the first place?”

You sighed and it came out more audibly than you had planned.

Whoops

“Mr. Bentley…” you started, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I explained my role in the Dover-Birch case to the jury yesterday when the prosecution questioned me, so I suggest you stop wasting everyone’s time by making me repeat myself.” The corner of your mouth twitched, wanting to turn up into a devious smile. But you couldn’t. You had to keep your composure- be professional.
“Furthermore, if you’re going to try and discredit me, I suggest you actually do your research. Because it sounds like everything you know about forensic psychology, you learned from the tv show Criminal Minds.”

Boom. Mic drop.

His jaw hung agape and several jury members hands covered their mouths in shock.

A shit-eating grin spread across Loki’s face. Oh he definitely liked that side of her. That sass? Yes please.

And with that, you leaned back in your chair, allowing yourself that devious smile you had been itching for earlier. Your job had been done, or so you thought.

However, Grant regained his composure, closed his stuttering mouth, and smoothed his suit jacket down.

Fucking hell

“Have you no empathy, Dr. (L/N)? Have you no sympathy for this family?! No feelings for what my client went through?!” He questioned, voice crescendoing into a full on yell.

“Objection! Your honor, he’s badgering my witness!” Julia interjected. - But Grant kept on yelling.
“Objection! What’s the relevancy here? Dr. (L/n) is here for her professional opinion, not her personal feelings about the case! Your honor!!”

Julia’s objections and Judge Cartwright’s verbal warnings and gavel bangs were drowned out by Grant’s yelling and the rage bubbling up in your chest.

Your hands began to tremble ever so slightly, the anger knocking every other emotion out of the way. You leaned into the sleek, black microphone in front of you, ready to tear Grant a new one.

“Counselor Bentley!! Never in all my days have I encountered the parent of a missing child kidnap a suspect- who may I remind you had been cleared- then build a torture chamber to keep them in!!” Your voice boomed throughout the courtroom, silencing everyone- including the smug counselor.

You looked around the room as all eyes were on you. You had everyone’s attention; you commanded it. It felt good. Powerful.

You debated saying something else. You hesitated. Your mouth opened, but quickly shut. You didn’t want to give the jury the impression of you being a “hysterical woman.” Cause God knows the men would use that against you. You weren’t going to give Grant or the patriarchy (hell, they’re one and the same) any more ammunition.

“Counselor, I am this close to holding you in contempt.” Judge Cartwright said sternly, holding up his forefinger and thumb with a tiny space between them.

“Counselor Williams, your objections are sustained. Jury shall disregard counsellor Bentley’s line of questioning.”

“No further questions.” Grant said, trying to hold on to what respectability he had left.

“Witness may step down.” Judge informed you.
You removed yourself from the witness stand, the courtroom still eerily quiet except for the sound of your boots hitting the floor.
Your eyes locked onto to Loki, who was giving counselor Bentley the not so subtle stink eye.

You sat down beside David, your pulse still pounding in your ears. You could feel his eyes on you, but yours were locked on the seat-back in front of you. Your distanced gaze didn’t go unnoticed by Loki.

The feeling of him looking at you faded as you gave way to your spiraling thoughts.

Of course you had sympathy for the Dover family. It still didn’t make what Keller did to Barry right.

Fuck.

It wasn’t your job to decide whats right or wrong. Your job was to answer questions, to provide psychological insight to the jury; not to pressure them into making a decision that matched your personal agenda.

A hand on your shoulder pulled you from your spiral. It was David.

“Hm?” You questioned. You saw his mouth moving but your brain didn’t catch his words.

“Come on, I’m taking you to lunch.” He stated, rather than questioned.
His confidence, or rather the dominance of him telling you what to do, sent a flicker of warmth between your legs. Yes please.

Of course you knew David would never make you do anything you didn’t want to, you were dying for some quality time with him anyways.

You blinked a few times, re-orienting yourself.
You saw everyone gathering up their things, ready to leave for the lunch hour. You slipped on your coat and followed David out the doors of the courtroom.

He was making a bee-line for the courthouse exit, with you right behind him, but stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Grant go into the men’s bathroom.

He blinked ‘hard’ as he watched the lawyer push open the door.
He looked at you, his expression you couldn’t quite read. He then peered back at the bathroom.

“Hold my coat.” He said, practically shoving it into your arms. He pushed up the sleeves of his blue button up shirt as far as they would go while making quick strides towards the men’s room.

“Um…okay.” You muttered to yourself.

As soon as Loki disappeared behind the door, you walked a bit closer to the men’s room, l silently praying he wasn’t about to do something stupid.
You stood right outside the door, listening- trying not to look like a weirdo for standing conspicuously close to the men’s bathroom.

You heard what you could only describe as the scuffling of shoes. 

Then, grunting.

Silence.

Then words, they were hushed, angry.

You couldn’t make out what was being said.

You flinched when David emerged from the restroom, pushing the door with great force.

His hair was tousled, his breathing heavy. His eyes were wide and his jaw was clenched.

He scanned the room to make sure he was unnoticed. He seemed satisfied that he didn’t draw any attention to himself. His expression softened when he laid eyes on you.

He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair, trying to fix the disheveled strands. “Ready?” He asked, reaching for his coat, trying to ignore your expression that so clearly said what the hell was that?

He nodded towards the exit, and began walking briskly toward the doors. You followed.

The explanation was on the tip of his tongue, but he was waiting ‘til he got to the privacy of his car to share it with you. He was under the impression that his reputation would be wounded if he showed any feelings other than anger. Anger was how he kept people at bay. It was the first of many walls of defense Loki had put around his heart.

You slid into the passenger seat, staying silent, waiting for David to speak.

“I don’t like the way he attacked you up there. It felt…” he paused, searching for the word. “Personal.” David’s eyes stayed glued to the road, almost as if he was afraid to look at you. Afraid to be emotional. The fear of the walls he so carefully built, being broken down.

“While I appreciate you defending my honor, David, I’m fine. Really.” You assumed him, placing your hand on his upper arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s nothing I ain’t seen before. It’s just a tactic to discredit me, make the jury not like me.”

“I think they still like you, kinda hard not to.” He said with a flirty smile.

The familiar warmth that flooded your chest made its way outward to your skin, appearing on your face as a smile.

-

With the days events out of sight and out of mind for now, you and David shared casual conversation over lunch.

“So where they got you staying this time?” He asked, finishing the last bite of his sandwich.

“The Comfort Inn.” You replied “I guess asking for nice hotel this time was too much to ask for.” You forced out a chuckle. Mentally cursing your bosses at the FBI for not budgeting your department properly.

“Shit. You wanna stay at my place? There’s an extra bedroom.” He blurted out. He seemed just as surprised as you at his words.

The few seconds it took you to react, felt like an eternity to Loki. His heart got ahead of his brain, which was happening more and more with you around. He didn’t want his invitation to make things weird between the two of you. 

He was relived when you smiled.

“That’s very kind, David, but I couldn’t put you out like that.” you said, flashing him a polite smile.

He accepted your answer without pushing. The last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable.

 “Well, atleast come over for dinner. It’ll be like a real date..I been meaning to take you on one of those ever since we met.”

“A real date?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’ll cook, I’ll even set the table all nice.” He said, trying to hide his smile behind sipping his drink.

“Ooh, gettin’ all fancy for lil’ ol’ me?” You kidded, putting on your best southern belle accent.

David chuckled, adding “sense of humor” to the mental list of things he liked about you.

“So, that’s a yes?” He asked, his tone a little more serious.

“Yes.” You replied. Your voice softer now, almost timid. “I’d like that.” The smile you gave him was also soft. Effortless.

“Great.” He said gazing back at you, taking a moment to bask in the gentleness of your smile; your presence. It wasn’t often that the world let him experience something so tenderhearted. Or maybe it was his own self that didn’t let it in.

David picked up the check without any fuss and held open the diner’s door for you. You didn’t exactly expect chivalry from him, but it was nice to know that it wasn’t dead.

Chapter Text

The first thing you felt was warmth. Cozy, comfortable. The kind that you only feel when you were sleeping in.

The second thing you felt was panic.

Your eyes cracked open- barely enough to see the numbers on the clock. Surely you had time before your alarm went off. Surely.

7:44 AM

You sharpened instantly. Court started at 8:00 AM and it took you 15 minutes to get there.

Fuck! Stupid hotel alarm clock. Damn it!

You rummaged around the nightstand for your cell phone. Better text David.

Running late, be there about 8:15.

8:15am might’ve been stretching it- but fuck it. You already gave your testimony, surely, they could proceed without you.

Your pone buzzed.

David texted you back.

Ok.

Men and their one-word answers.

 “Whatever, I gotta get ready.” You huffed to yourself.

-

The hallway outside the courtroom smelled faintly of burnt coffee and old varnish. Loki leaned against the wall, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other balancing two paper cups in a drink carrier. Said cups were from the shop down the street that didn’t burn their coffee. His thumb traced the rim of one, the steam curling into the morning chill. He kept glancing at the doors, jaw clenched, until finally— You came rushing in, hair slightly out of place, blazer half-buttoned, tote bag slipping off your shoulder. Frazzled. Not like you at all. Something inside him warmed at the rawness of it, seeing your professional exterior crack into something vulnerable.

  “Shit, shit—sorry,” you hissed under your breath, nearly colliding with the bailiff as you fumbled for your badge. Daivd straightened, the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Well, look who decided to show.” He held out the cup. “Double shot. Figured you’d need it.” You blinked at him, breathless. “You—thank you.” You took it with trembling fingers, sipping too quickly and wincing at the heat. Familiar flavors flooded your tongue. He still remembered your coffee order. The warmth that filled your chest and cheeks was comparable to the coffee temperature.

 “Thank you for waiting on me.” You said, the caffeine steadying you.

David replied with only a small smile.

You and he slipped through the heavy courtroom doors. Everyone was already seated, the low murmur of voices filling the air. You slumped into the seat beside Loki, still feeling flushed, trying to smooth your skirt under the table.

“You didn’t miss anything you can’t catch up on.” He leaned over, whispering in your ear. His proximity to your ear and the low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down your spine and warmth between your legs. You were hoping Loki didn’t notice the way you melted at the low timbre of his voice and the way the scent of his cologne had you hooked. Or- shit- you hoped he did notice.

You nodded, finally letting your shoulders drop. The warmth of the coffee seeped through the paper cup, into your palms. Loki’s hand brushed against your knee, a fleeting touch. Grounding. Maybe he did notice your shiver.

“Thanks, for everything.” You murmured.

His mouth tugged into the smallest, almost secret smile.

-

Nancy and Franklin Birch testified as character witnesses on Keller’s behalf, painting him as a respectable, hardworking, family man. The pastor of their church and some of Keller’s past co-workers testified the same.

Barry Milland testified briefly, only pointing out Keller as the man who hurt him. Both the prosecution and the defense agreed to keep it brief for the sake of Barry’s mental health. Normally, you would’ve advocated for more testimony from Barry, to really hit a homerun. But the defense had the images taken of Barry when he first arrived at the hospital- showing just how brutally he was treated. Julia Williams- the prosecutor- even had them printed out and passed them around to the jury members.

Barry’s mother sat in the gallery, tightly clutching a handwritten letter, trying to hold back tears. She had petitioned the judge to read a letter to the courts on Barry’s behalf since he was developmentally delayed. Judge Cartwright allowed this.

She approached the witness stand with shaky breath and clammy hands.

You glanced towards Loki, whose jaw was clenched, and hands were gripping the armrests a little too tight. This whole trial was gut wrenching, but letters from parents always hit hard.

Mrs. Milland cleared her throat,

“Firstly, I want to thank judge Cartwright for allowing me to speak today. To the jury... I ask that you do not take Keller Dover’s actions lightly. My son… my Barry…” she took in a sharp breath, sniffling. “He has been through more than anyone should have to go through. The police declared him innocent, but Keller Dover thought that wasn’t good enough.” Tears began to slip down her face and you could see her tremble. 

“Before you make your final decision. Look at the pictures one more time- imagine if it was your child.” She spoke, a loud sob ripping from her throat.

“He deserves justice too. Thank you.”  She sniffled and folded the letter and put pack into her pocket. She looked at Keller Dover, eyes narrowing, sadness turning into anger.

“Keller, I hope you get what you deserve.” she spat.

“What I deserve? He questioned, jumping up from his chair, flinging his crutches aside, limping towards the witness stand. “He took my girl!” He screamed, then a rush of uniformed officers surrounded him. “What about what he deserves?! Huh?!? He took Anna!”

 Chaos erupted as judge Cartwright tried to regain control of the court. The jury members and spectators murmurs overlapped, Cartwright banged his gavel, and Grant Bently begged judge for a recess. Three officers dragged Keller Dover out of the courtroom while Ms. Milland was escorted out by a fourth.

The overlapping voices and the yelling seemed to surround you- it engulfed you. You were already frazzled from being late, and now this. The room began to close in around you and your breathing became shallow. You had to get out.

Without a word, you darted out of the courtroom, leaving behind a concerned detective Loki.

You exited the courthouse completely, hoping the fresh, chilly air would help ground you.

Finding the nearest bench, you planted your rear on the cold wood with a sigh- you could see your breath- which you tried to steady by box breathing.

In your hurry, you had left your jacket in the courtroom.

Fuck. It’s fucking freezing out here.

The trial weighed heavily on you. You couldn’t tell yourself that you didn’t understand Keller’s actions-you did. Well, not all of them you understood. You could understand doing anything for your child, but anything didn’t include kidnapping and brutal torture. But if David didn’t find Alex, err uh..Barry, and end up at the Jones’ home that night, he probably wouldn’t have found Anna. The whole situation was fucked up.

Maybe you should’ve testified differently, insisted that Anna needed her father to be home, especially after such a traumatic event. But then images of a beaten and battered Barry Milland flashed into your mind. He needed justice too. Keller Dover broke the law. Plain and simple.

Hell, who were you kidding, it was anything but plain and simple. This case had…extenuating circumstances to say the least.

The sound of footsteps tore you out of your spiral.

You glanced behind you towards the noise; It was David.

“You, ok?” he asked as he sat beside you on the bench.

You thought for a minute before you answered.

“Are we doing the right thing here?” you asked him, your eyes fixed on nothing particular in the distance.

He sighed, his breath a ghost that curled and drifted before dissolving into the air.

He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out two toothpicks. The kind you get from restaurants that are individually wrapped in their own wasteful piece of plastic.

He put one in his mouth and offered the other one to you.

“A toothpick?”

“Better than a cigarette.” He admitted.

 You took the tiny piece of wood, unwrapped it from its plastic and put it in your mouth.

Healthier than tobacco, yes, but you both could have used a real cigarette right about now. The toothpick would have to do.

David let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t think there is a right thing here, (y/n). We did what we could. Found the girl….Dover decided to break the law. That was his decision. That’s how I’m looking at it.”:

You looked down at your hands. They were shaking. You put them between your thighs to warm them up. You were tough, but you couldn’t stop the shivering. You didn’t know how long you had been out here.

Loki noticed and immediately shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around you. The fabric was still warm from him- the scent of clean soap and faint coffee clinging to the lining.

You reveled in the warmth, before realizing how thin David’s dress shirt was, the way the wind was biting at his skin.

“No, you’ll get cold.” You tried to protest.

“No.” he said firmly. As if rejecting it wasn’t an option. “I’ll be alright.” He assured you, pretending the small grateful smile you gave him didn’t do something to his heartbeat. “Judge called for a 15-minute recess. So, you’re not missing anything..again.” He smirked.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, playfully elbowing him. – Did the stoic David Loki just tease you?

You returned his smirk, painfully aware of the warmth blooming in your chest.

You and he sat in silence for a moment, watching your breath cloud the air.

“We were so desperate to get those girls home. To have a happy ending….two happy families.” You removed the toothpick from your teeth, rolling it between your fingers. “We did our jobs, but it still doesn’t feel like justice. I mean.. they lose Anna and Joy, got them back, and now they might lose Keller? I can’t help but feel bad.”

“I know…I shoulda kept this from happening.” He said, guilt creeping in his voice. “kept closer watch on Keller.”

“Not your fault, how could we have known?”

You paused, letting the words weigh between you.

“It’s no one’s fault I guess, or maybe everyone’s fault... I don’t know. Can’t change the past.” You would’ve reached out a comforting hand, but they were oh so warm in the pockets of Davids jacket and you didn’t want to let that go quite yet. “Like you said. Dover made his choices.”

He only hummed in response.

Silence lingered, but it wasn’t awkward.

“Hey, you handled your testimony well yesterday.”

He huffed out a puff of air, amused at your compliment. “Thanks.”

“I’m serious.” You said, turning to face him.

He gave you a barely there smile, toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth. “Thanks.”

Another stint of silence

“You wanna head back inside? Its fuckin’ cold”

You let out a chuckle, “yeah, let’s go.”

You pulled Davids’s jacket tighter around you as you and the detective climbed the courthouse steps. You could definitely get used to wearing his clothes.

• David POV -

David loved how his jacket hung around her frame. It was just plain cute. When they took their seats, she handed his jacket back to him, but he would’ve let her have it if she asked. He opted for laying it over the back of the seat in front of him- accessible to her if she needed it.

He really did want to check if she was alright, he wasn’t so good with words, but he hoped they comforted her at least a bit- but hell she was right… you can’t change the past.

She held a burnt cup of coffee between her hands- the courthouse special they called it.

He watched her as she sat next to him, messing with her hair, trying to fix where the wind had made a mess of it.

He automatically reached up and gently combed his fingers through the tangles.

Her hair was soft.

“You look great” he assured her.

“Thank you.” She said, suddenly shy- like she had been caught.

David didn’t miss the wide smile she tried to cover by resting her chin on her hand.

-

“The defense calls Keller Dover to the stand.”

Keller hobbled up to the witness box, his crutches were back.

Hmm. He didn’t need them 15 minutes ago when he practically launched himself at Mrs. Milland. Hopefully, the jury will draw their own conclusions about that.

The defense would call him first so that he had more time to question him and explain his side of the story: then the prosecution would cross-examine him. His testimony would really drive the nail in whatever coffin the jury decided to bury him in.

As Grant Bently and Keller recounted the events in question, your eyes were on the jury members: watching their body language, their facial expressions- trying to predict what they were thinking.

“How we lookin’? David asked, leaning in close.

There was that pleasant chill again, his intoxicating scent, and that low whisper. You were a goner.

Focus. He asked you a question.

You leaned in, unaware that David was also having trouble concentrating due to a cute forensic psychologist sitting next to him.

“See jurors 12 and 3?”

He nodded.

“I think they’re siding with Dover. Both are men- probably have daughters of their own. Their body language is relaxed; they’re hanging onto every word he’s saying. However, jurors 2,6, and 10 all have their arms crossed- a self-soothing behavior; it’s like you’re hugging yourself if that makes sense. And they are all women- probably identifying with Mrs. Milland from yesterday.”

“Mmhmm.” David replied, eyes scanning the jurors.

“I don’t think 5 is paying any attention.” You nudged David, urging him to see how the younger man was just staring blankly into space.

“Probably wants this shit show to be over.” Loki concluded.

“Yeah. Same.” You said. “The rest I’m not sure- it’s up in the air.”

He answered with another hum, turning his attention back to the trial.

“You wouldn’t have found my daughter if it weren’t for me-“

“Objection. Speculation.” Counsellor Williams interjected. “Mr. Dover cannot say for certain what would or would not have happened during the investigation without his interference.”

“Sustained. Jury will disregard Mr. Dover’s comment.” Judge commanded. “Control your witness counsellor Bently.”

“Yes, your honor.”

Loki sat with clenched fists and a clenched jaw- which you’ve come to learn is a permanent thing. He blinked hard twice.

After Julia’s brutal cross examination, judge called for a 10-minute recess before each side presented closing arguments.

While Grant Bently addressed the jury one final time, words oozing faux sincerity and a cocky amount confidence – Loki rolled his eyes at every word, whether it was intentional or not, you’d never know.

“Can’t stand this guy” you whispered to David.

“you’re tellin’ me.” Loki agreed.

“Keller Dover is a devoted, selfless man who would do anything to protect his family. The near loss of his daughter drove him to the brink of insanity.” He paused. “People of the jury, you all have heard the testimonies and have seen the evidence. I leave you with one question.” He placed his hands on the railing of the jury box. Smug.

 “What would you have done?”

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath. That was good.

While counsellor Williams delivered her closing statement about how everyone deserves justice and Mr. Dover knew what he was doing and no one is above the law, your attention was on David. His knee bounced in anticipation; his nails were bitten down to the nub.

You placed a steadying hand on his knee. His eyes immediately darted to you.
“you’re shaking the whole row.” You said softly, not blaming him, but gently bringing awareness to something he probably didn’t know he was doing.

“Sorry.”

You removed your hand too quickly for Davids’s liking.

“You don’t think Dover is goanna get off scot free, do you?” he asked, worry seeping through his voice.

You let out a quiet, but heavy sigh.

“I don’t know.”

Chapter Text

Coffee cups were scattered all around the conference room that you, David, Julia, and a few other detectives were stuck in. Food delivery bags lay stacked on top of the garbage can and you had lost track of just how much coffee you’d had. The jury had been deliberating for hours on end. No one wanted to leave and miss the verdict, so you had been stuck at the courthouse all damn day.

You wondered if judge was going to adjourn until tomorrow, since they had been debating for so long. It was almost 4pm now- time for you to go the fuck home. Well not home, home. To your hotel so you could sit around in nothing but your undies and watch television while eating takeout from that one Chinese place that David introduced you to.

You, Julia and the other detectives engaged in conversation while David just listened mostly, chiming in every now and then. You and Julia had really bonded over the course of the trial. You both had a real girl power vibe going on. You laughed at something Julia said, something about a dumb perp she once prosecuted.  You let out a hearty laugh; a real one. David, who was pretending not to listen, realized he really liked that sound. He tried- and failed- to hide the smile it brought him.

  As you and Julia shared stories of breaking the class ceiling, incompetent criminals, and wild court cases, David grew restless.

Needing a change of scenery, he exited the conference room and went to wander the halls. When you eventually went to check on him, you found him sitting on a bench right outside the courtroom.

You sat next to him without saying a word. You’ve learned, with him, that silence can be its own comfort.

His leg bounced against the bench, the rhythm sharp and uneven, echoing off the marble walls. He’s been sitting there for a while you guessed- hands clasped, thumb rubbing the worn edge of his ring like it’s a worry stone.

Across the corridor, lawyers shuffle past in murmurs, the hum of fluorescent lights filling every quiet pocket.

Still, the tension is coiling in him like a spring.

He mutters, barely audible, “Shouldn’t be takin’ this long.”

Then quieter—almost to himself— “Should’ve done more. Should’ve—”

You turn your head. “David.”

He stops, blinking like he’s just remembered you’re there.

You shift closer on the hard wooden bench until your shoulder brushes his. “You did everything you could,” you say, voice soft but steady. “You found those kids. That’s what matters.”

He exhales through his nose, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Yeah. Tell that to Grace Dover.” His voice cracks faintly under the rasp.

You don’t reach for him immediately; you wait a beat, watching the twitch in his jaw. Then you place your hand gently on his thigh

The touch stills him. Slowly, his shoulders drop.

“Hey,” you murmur, your thumb tracing lazy circles. “You can’t control everything. We have to trust the system.”

You tilt your head until he meets your eyes. His are tired—bloodshot around the edges, dark crescents beneath them—but when he looks at you, something fragile flickers there.

For a long moment, he just watches you. The courthouse feels too big, too bright, but your hand on him grounds him in a way nothing else can.

His breathing evens out, slow and measured, and his leg finally stops bouncing.

“You know, I didn’t always ‘trust the system.’”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned.

“Yeah. I got into a lot of trouble as a teenager.” He paused- hesitated, David Loki didn’t open up to a lot of people, but your presence- calming and reassuring- made him feel like it was okay to be vulnerable. “The officers I was involved with stuck with me. Helped me get my shit straightened out.”

A small smile couldn’t help but appear on your face. “Look at you, all open about your past and shit. I feel special.”

He smirked. “Oh, you’re special alright.”

“Hey!” you responded- your hand on his thigh giving it a playful slap. “I am special.”

He huffs a quiet laugh and leans back, letting his shoulder press into yours. It’s not much—barely a touch—but from Loki, it feels like trust.

He nods once—small, grateful—and for the first time all afternoon, he stops watching the clock and just lets himself breathe beside you.

The minutes stretch into another hour. The sun outside has already started to dip, throwing long strips of amber light through the courthouse windows. Dust floats in the beams, lazy and slow—mocking the restless beat of Loki’s pulse.

Then the door creaks open.
A clerk steps out, voice echoing down the corridor:

“Jury’s back.”

Loki’s head jerks up. You feel the shift in him immediately, the coil of energy snapping tight again. His hands clench, and he rises so fast the bench rocks under you.

You stand beside him, watching the muscles in his jaw jump as he stares down the hallway. “Finally,” he mutters, but it’s not relief—more like dread disguised as impatience.

You walk together into the courtroom. The air is heavy with anticipation; the few reporters allowed in, line the back row, pens poised. Loki doesn’t sit. He stands at the end of the aisle, arms folded, staring- his eyes hard, unblinking.

You stay half a step behind, close but far enough to give him the space he needed.

The hum of whispers fades as the jury files in.

Judge Cartwright’s voice boomed through the nearly silent room. “Foreman of the jury, have you reached a unanimous verdict?”

The foreman, who had graying hair and trembling hands, swallowed thickly. “Your honor,” he said, voice cracking just enough to make everyone in the room stiffen, “we are hopelessly deadlocked.”

Gasps and murmurs rippled across the room.

David went utterly still. His jaw clenched so tightly, a muscle twitched in his cheek. 

“Could a decision be reached with more time?” Cartwright asked.

The foreman glanced back at his fellow jurors. “We don’t believe so, your honor.”

Julia straightened, trying to mask her frustration with professionalism. “The state requests the jury be polled!” she said, trying to make sure she got the words in before any other bullshit happened.

Judge nodded. “Proceed.”

As each individual jury member was asked about their own findings- guilty or not, you watched David. His hands fisted at his sides, his breathing became shallow- he was trying his best to contain his rage.

“Breathe.” You whispered to him, leaning close.

He took in an audible deep breath, but his fists remained closed and His jaw still tight.

The jury polled 7 and 5. Not exactly a perfect split, but not enough to sway one way or the other.

When it was done, the judge exhaled slowly. “Let the record reflect that the jury is deadlocked. I am declaring a mistrial on the verdict phase.”

The courtroom murmurs turned into quiet chaos. Reporters scribbled. Keller Dover nearly fell to his knees in relief; his lawyer gripped him to keep him upright. That injured leg would not be happy moving like that.

 Loki’s gaze burned holes through both of them.

Grace Dover burst into tears, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

Judge Cartwright cleared his throat, heavy and deliberate. “However,” he said, his tone slicing through the noise, “given the nature of the charges, the circumstances of the case, and the evidence presented, this court will proceed with sentencing on some or all offenses.”

That silenced everyone.

Loki’s eyes flicked up to the bench, sharp and disbelieving. His pulse thundered. He glanced back at you. You wore the same shocked expression as everyone else in that courtroom.

Grace let out a loud sob, her tears flowing for a different reason. Keller stood still- not believing what he’d just heard.

The judge’s gavel came down once, echoing like a gunshot. “The court will proceed with sentencing. The defendant will remain in custody pending final determination.”

Murmurs rippled throughout the room once again- relief and confusion bundled together.

Davids eyes remained locked on Keller as he was being led away in cuffs. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his jaw could’ve cut glass. He finally blinked when Keller disappeared through the side door.

David wasn’t sure if this was true justice- the kind he bled for. (Literally) But it was something.

He turned his gaze to you, but your eyes were fixed on nothing particular in the distance.

The echo of the gavel hadn’t stopped ringing in your ears

“Let’s get outta here.” He said, nudging you with his elbow.

You snapped back to reality.

“Yeah.” You replied, not entirely sure what he said, but it sounded like he wanted to go. That was fine with you.

You both turned to leave, you following a few steps behind.

He paused when he got to the door’s threshold, looking back at the empty jury box. He let out a heavy sigh.

Then he squared his shoulders and stepped through.

The outermost courthouse doors burst open into the gray afternoon. Cold air slapped you both in the face — sharp, metallic, the kind that smelled like rain and old brick.

Detective Loki adjusted his coat collar higher, but it did little good. The second his boots hit the concrete steps, the crowd surged.

“Detective Loki! Detective, is it true the jury was hung?”
“Did you botch the investigation?”
“Detective, do you believe justice was served today?”

“Dr. (l/n), whose testimony carried the most weight?”

“Are you disappointed with the verdict?”

Cameras flashed like lightning. Microphones pushed in from every direction, cords tangling underfoot. The press had been waiting for hours, hungry for a soundbite.

In a small town like Conyers, something like this — two missing girls, a man nearly freed on a split jury — it was the talk of the town.

Loki didn’t answer. He kept walking, jaw tight, eyes down, shoulders squared. His coat flared slightly behind him as he pushed through the crowd.

“Detective Loki, sources say you were seen—”
“Detective, can you confirm—”

A microphone grazed his cheek, and he flinched — not fear, just irritation edged with exhaustion. His eyes darted, sharp and cold, but there were too many of them. Reporters shouting over one another, camera flashes going off inches from his face.

You saw it happen — that moment where his breath hitched, his hand twitching toward the space under his coat where his badge usually rested. His jaw moved, but no words came. The muscle in his temple ticked. He blinked ‘hard’ a few times.

Yep, he was about to lose his shit.

“Hey,” you said sharply, grabbing his sleeve. “David. Come on.”

He didn’t move fast enough. So, you yanked — hard — pulling him out of the crush of microphones and flashes and shoved past the last reporter blocking the stairs.

“No comment!” you snapped, voice cutting through the noise. You led him down the steps, boots slapping against wet stone, your grip firm on his arm.

He stumbled once — more from surprise than anything — but followed you wordlessly, head ducked low as you cut across the courthouse lot and toward the alley that led to the parking lot.

Only when the noise dimmed behind you did you let go.

Loki stood there, breathing heavily. The cold turned his breath to fog. His hair was a mess, a few strands falling into his eyes. He didn’t look at you right away — just stared off at the line of parked cars, the last bit of sunlight glinting off windshields.

“You okay?” you asked quietly.

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. Just… love being the damn headline.”

“Yeah. Me too.” The sarcasm rolling off your tongue with ease.

He finally looked at you — that guarded expression cracking just slightly, his eyes tired and red around the edges.

You nodded toward the street. “Come on. You need a drink.”

-

The bar sat on the corner of Main Street, its sign flickering. Inside, it was dim and blessedly quiet—just the soft hum of conversation, the clink of glass against wood, and the low rasp of blues from the jukebox. 

Loki hadn’t said much since you’d left the courthouse. You hadn’t pushed. Like on the courthouse bench earlier, you’d learned that with him, silence was sometimes necessary.

Now, in the warm amber light of the bar, he looked… smaller somehow. The tension hadn’t left him, but it had dulled. His coat was draped over the stool beside him; the top button of his shirt was undone. He stared into his glass of whiskey, still silent.

You sat beside him, nursing a drink of your own.

After a long stretch, he finally spoke. “You know what the worst part is?” 

You looked up. “What?” 

“They’ll talk about the jury. The lawyers. The judge.” He gave a dry laugh, bitter and low. “But they won’t talk about the girls. They’ll forget them before the week’s over.” 

You leaned forward, resting your forearms on the bar. “You didn’t forget them.” 

He scoffed, running a hand over his jaw. “Doesn’t mean much if the system doesn’t care.” His voice cracked just slightly on the last word, and he shook his head as if to shake it off. “You think you’ve got the case all sorted, expecting the jury to see it like it is. Like we do. and then someone pulls the rug out.” 

“Doesn’t mean we stop trying,” you said quietly. 

His gaze lifted to yours. Those sharp blue eyes were tired, rimmed red, but they softened a little when they met your face. “You really believe that?” 

You nodded. “I do. What we do matters. I know you believe it too.”

He looked away, exhaling through his nose. The silence between you stretched out, heavy but not uncomfortable. The kind that comes when there’s nothing left to say, only the slow process of breathing through it. 

A song changed on the jukebox—something older, rough around the edges. Loki’s thumb traced the rim of his glass absently.

 “Been together two months,” he mutters, almost to himself. “How do you already know what to say to bring me back?”

You smile. “I don’t, really. I just… know what its like to work so hard and things not turn out the way you wanted them to.”

“Yeah.” He muttered- barely a whisper.

You laid your hand over his. The contact was small, steady—warm against the chill that hadn’t left his skin. 

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Just stared at your hand over his, his jaw working. Then his fingers turned, catching yours in his grasp, rough palms curling around your knuckles with quiet, desperate strength. 

“Can I take you on that date tomorrow?” He asked, meeting your eyes. “The trial is finally over. And like I said, I been wating to spend time with you that isn’t a phone call, skype call, case, or being trapped at the courthouse.” He paused, tracing your knuckles with his thumb. “Assuming you still want to after all this. I’m not exactly a charming gentleman tonight.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Of course I want to. Dinner at your place still?”

“Yeah. No takeout containers- I promise.”

You laughed. “Good. I can’t wait.”

“Me too.” He said and held out his glass for you to toast. You brought your glass to his- clinking them together with the lightest pressure. You both downed your drinks and grabbed your coats, ready to leave the bar.

When you finally paid and left, the rain had eased to a drizzle. Loki held the door open for you, his hand lingering on the small of your back as you stepped outside. The courthouse lights glowed faintly in the distance-But he didn’t look back.  

You turned to thank him for buying the drinks- even though it was your idea to go to the bar. But before the words could come, he pulled you into his arms. It wasn’t a rushed or polite hug—it was quiet, deliberate.

He lingered, longer than usual.

You felt the weight of his day in the way his shoulders sagged against you, the warmth of his breath where it ghosted across your temple. His fingers flexed slightly against your back, not wanting to let go just yet. He inhaled—slow and deep. He grounded himself in the texture and scent of your hair, the way your chest rose and fell against his with each breath. He couldn’t believe you were real sometimes.

For a moment, he wasn’t Detective Loki. He was just David, tired and human, holding onto the one thing that made sense.

When he finally pulled back, his hands still lingered on your arms. His eyes flickered down to you—soft, unreadable, something unspoken behind them.

“Be safe, yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded, your voice catching somewhere in your throat. “You too, David.”

And even as you walked away, you could still feel the ghost of his warmth clinging to you- you committed it to memory.