Broken(DC)

Washing off all the grime, I put on a clean T-shirt. I looked slightly better than before, but not by much. The police were probably already on their way, and the evening was irrevocably ruined. I should've just stayed in my room.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, the music had stopped, and most of the people were gone. Outside, flashing lights illuminated the street.

"He went inside and locked himself in the bathroom. We were too scared to go near that psycho," shrieked the same girl who had rushed to Derek after the punch.

"Calm down, ma'am. We'll handle this. Show us the way," said a police officer with a calm but firm tone.

"No need to look for me. I'm right here," I said, stepping out of the house.

"All right, kid, no sudden moves. Turn around, get on your knees, and put your hands up," the officer instructed, her hand ready on her weapon.

I complied with every command. She approached me and cuffed my hands.

"You're under arrest for assault and battery. You'll need to come with us for further investigation. You have the right to remain silent and the right to an attorney," the officer stated as she led me toward the patrol car.

"You're gonna rot in jail, you bastard," hissed the girl, no better than her boyfriend.

"Ma'am, watch your language, or I'll have to detain you as well," said another officer, giving her a sharp glance. She immediately shut up. Typical loud and bold when they think they're untouchable, but the moment there's a hint of real consequences, their courage evaporates.

Meanwhile, the paramedics were loading an unconscious Derek into the ambulance. I didn't regret what I had done I knew I was right.

After they finished, the officers got into the car and silently drove me away. I sat there thinking about the consequences of my actions. At most, they could charge me with assault, which would only mean a fine I could easily pay. Elizabeth wouldn't be happy, but there was no fixing that now.

When we arrived at the station, they carefully helped me out of the car, one officer on each side, as I was too unsteady to walk on my own. I was promptly taken to the duty room and handcuffed to a metal pipe.

"All right, kid, we're going to write up a report. What's your name?" the officer asked. I answered all his questions. It was just the usual procedure.

"All right. By law, you're legally independent, so we won't be calling any guardians. Do you want to make a phone call to anyone?" asked the officer, who seemed kind and sympathetic.

"No."

"Got it. Next question: did you strike Derek Gimelton?" the officer asked. There were too many witnesses to lie it was pointless.

"Yes."

"What was your motive?"

"They pulled a prank on me. They doused me in syrup and feathers," I replied.

"But you're perfectly clean now," the officer noted, and I realized I had made a mistake. I had washed off the evidence of their humiliation because I couldn't stand the sticky syrup and feathers clinging to me.

"There were plenty of people there, and someone was recording it," I added, recalling seeing a camera in someone's hands.

"You hit him because he was the instigator of this prank?"

"Yes."

"We'll interview all the witnesses to establish the full picture," the officer said. Just then, the door swung open.

"All right, kid, what have you told them? Everything my client said was clearly influenced by the circumstances. You know how it is with young people loud music, fun, and maybe some alcohol," said the man who entered.

He had dark hair, wore a bright blue suit, and had an earpiece in his ear. His demeanor was confrontational, and he kept interrupting the officer at every turn.

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"We really didn't need you here," the officer said through gritted teeth, glaring at the man with clear disdain.

"All right, that's enough. You know the rules I'm his lawyer," the man declared. I stared at him in confusion. He was definitely not my lawyer.

The officer reluctantly complied, stepping out of the room with obvious displeasure.

"Okay, kid, I'm Saul Goodman, and you're lucky I showed up. Let's see what we've got here. A party fight, assault, a victim… pretty standard case. Worst-case scenario, it's a $2,000 fine for the injured party, and that's it. I can handle this for you no problem. My fee? A modest $1,500. Otherwise, this could take a turn for the worse. Jail time let's say 15 days and a $10,000 fine isn't out of the question," Saul Goodman said confidently. I still couldn't figure out who he was or why he was here. I hadn't called him, and I had no idea where he came from.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" I asked, wondering if he was some acquaintance I'd forgotten about.

"Are you kidding, kid? I'm Saul Goodman. Lawyer. The best, actually," he said with a grin, as if I'd asked the dumbest question imaginable.

"But I didn't hire you," I said.

"What do you mean you didn't hire me? You committed a crime, and I'm a lawyer. That means we're already working together," he replied, as if stating the most obvious fact in the world.

"There's no contract between us. I don't even know you," I said.

"Okay, kid, you're clearly not getting it, are you? Let me break it down for you. Your prospects in this case aren't looking great. I saw the poor guy you roughed up nobody wants to end up like that. He's definitely going to demand a hefty payout for his injuries. Trust me, spending $3,500 now is the lesser of two evils it's a bargain," Saul said.

As strange as he seemed, his words made sense. I didn't know much about the law, and having a lawyer would certainly help. But the fact that he had found me, not the other way around, was unsettling. When had he even seen Derek?

"Fine, I tentatively agree," I said.

Interlude

Looking back on those events, I realized it was quite an adventure. Our fates became intertwined in an unbreakable bond, and even now, I can't escape it. Funny how things turned out. If I could go back to that moment, would I have punched that jerk? Absolutely not I'd have thrown in a few extra punches for good measure.

It's amusing now, remembering how Saul Goodman later told me how he found me. It was pure coincidence: he was at the police station on other business, saw me, and decided to take me on as his client. Back then, he genuinely didn't know or care about the guy I'd beaten up, but he skillfully manipulated words and convinced me to trust him. A true professional. Of course, he charged me almost three times what any other lawyer would have.

Well, that's just how my life turned out. No regrets, just lessons to become better. As I brewed another cup of aromatic coffee, I let myself sink back into nostalgia.

End of Interlude

The peculiar lawyer began bombarding me with information: how to behave, what to do, and what to say. He was an unusual representative of his profession. My limited understanding of lawyers painted them as formal, speaking in the language of the law, and rigidly pragmatic. But Saul was different. His bright suit, casual speech, and commanding presence made it impossible to interrupt him even if you wanted to. The man knew how to talk, that much was certain.

I could tell he knew what he was doing, and paying him $1,500 wasn't such a big deal considering my income. He was worth it. Still, the police had officially charged me with intentional harm. Derek hadn't regained consciousness yet. Diagnosed with a concussion, he was in a coma. I was released on bail with the condition that I couldn't leave town.

There was one small problem: my cane was left behind at the party house, and no one had bothered to retrieve it. The pain and weakness in my leg returned, making it hard to walk on my own. By then, it was already nighttime, and finding a store that sold canes was impossible. Limping and straining, I finally managed to leave the police station, where a taxi was already waiting for me.

I didn't want to go back to the dormitory, so I asked the driver to take me across town to my home. The last thing I wanted was to be near those who had humiliated me for their amusement.

When we arrived, I asked the driver to help me to the door. The living room lights were on Elizabeth must have been watching a movie. Thanking the driver, I stepped inside. At the sound of the door opening, someone immediately came out.

Elizabeth appeared in the hallway, her face lighting up in surprise and concern when she saw my disheveled state. She walked up to me right away.

"Oh my God, what happened to you? You showed up so unexpectedly. You could've called I would've picked you up if you wanted to come home," she said gently, noticing how I was leaning against the table for support. "And where's your cane?"

"It's been a really bad day," I said with a weary smile.

"Come on, I'll make some tea, and you can tell me everything," she said, helping me to the kitchen.

That's when I began recounting everything that had happened today. Emotions overwhelmed me, and I found myself tearing up. But Elizabeth comforted me, stroking my head and holding me close. I felt so grateful, and her soothing voice truly made things better.

After finishing my tea and taking a shower, I shed my dirty clothes and climbed into bed in my room. I was on the verge of sleep when there was a knock at the door.

"Brian, are you awake?" Alice's voice came softly as she opened the door and slipped inside. "Lately, I've been treating you poorly, you know. I'm sorry for everything. Those people who did that to you they're real scum. Alright, I won't bother you anymore. Get some rest. Goodnight, little brother," Alice said, not waiting for a response before leaving the room.

So maybe the day wasn't as bad as it seemed. Sleep claimed me quickly.

***********************

The next day caught me off guard. The police showed up at our house, informing us that new charges had been filed against me, and I needed to come with them to the station. Elizabeth immediately stood her ground, refusing to let them take me and arguing that they had no right. But there was no point in fighting with law enforcement, and they took me in. At the station, they clarified the new accusations before letting me go.

It turned out that Derek, despite undergoing several surgeries, still hadn't regained consciousness. That morning, the full extent of his injuries had been revealed. He had a fractured jaw with several missing teeth, splinters of wood lodged in his back that had caused nerve damage, and his body had fallen into a deep coma. The doctors didn't have optimistic predictions about his recovery. Had I really hit him that hard?

Another detail came to light: Derek's father was some sort of medical professor. He was demanding that I be imprisoned and expelled from college. His argument was that a doctor cannot harm another person, and therefore someone like me had no place in the medical profession. Of course, he conveniently forgot what his own son had done.

Whether my classmates had been intimidated or bribed, they began claiming that I was the one who attacked Derek unprovoked. They spoke poorly of me, painting a picture of someone aggressive and unhinged. It wasn't surprising; Derek's father seemed to be pulling every string he could.

Looking at Saul Goodman's business card, I dialed his number to get help with this mess.

"Alright, I hear you. Give me a few minutes to ask around and find out who his dad is. But heads up the price just went up. Be ready to fork over five grand," he said before hanging up. Five thousand. That was a lot for legal services. Compared to other lawyers, his rates were steep, but he'd already proven his skills. And finding another lawyer who was as capable in a pinch felt risky. I had no choice but to rely on him, even though his name still struck me as odd.

"Don't worry. Nothing terrible will happen. I'm sure we'll get through this," Elizabeth said, standing by my side.

"Maybe, but I probably won't be able to stay in medical school. I got an email saying I've been suspended from classes during the investigation," I replied.

"Well, it's not expulsion yet," my mom pointed out.

"Yeah, but with the evidence and materials they have, they'll find a way to kick me out. My classmates won't even think about sharing what they're working on, so I won't even know what to prepare for," I said, disheartened.

"I'll talk to them," Elizabeth said, her tone fiery with determination.

"Don't. I've realized I don't want to study there anymore. I need to carve my own path," I said.

That night, I formulated a plan to achieve my goals more quickly. Money solves a lot of problems, and it could solve mine too. What if I started a pharmaceutical company and hired the best experts who could teach me more than I could learn on my own, stumbling through years of trial and error? It was a way to speed things up.

"And what will you do instead? Becoming a doctor was your dream," Elizabeth said.

"It's just a dream. Reality presents different facts. I want to go into business. As a doctor, I could help dozens of people, but if I create a company with cutting-edge medicines, I could help millions," I said, though I was also saying it to myself. I didn't voice the rest. Selfish? Yes, but I can't keep thinking only about others. I will help ordinary people, but I'm not ready for anything more yet.

"Alright. I'll support you in any endeavor. But where will you find the money to start?" she asked.

"I have a way," I replied. It was time to dive deeper into the shadows of the dark side.

"Just don't get involved with bad people, that's all I ask," she said.

"I'll try," I answered.

The call from Goodman didn't take long. He'd found everything out. Derek's father could indeed heavily influence the college; my student life was likely over. Sure, Derek's father was probably fuming and shouting, but as long as his son was alive, the only charges they could press were for assault. They could only demand moral compensation at most. Saul managed to obtain footage from the party cameras, which clearly showed that I'd been doused and was acting under the influence, and that I hadn't been the aggressor. As a result, my fine would be a few thousand dollars, including the lawyer's fee.

I asked Elizabeth to accompany me to the dormitory to pick up my belongings. I wouldn't be going back there again.

When we arrived and entered the building, everyone who passed me gave wary looks, watching me for far too long. Reaching my room, I found my roommate. He was a sophomore. Michael waved at me without removing his headphones, seemingly indifferent to what had happened or perhaps he didn't know yet.

"Oh, dude, I mean no offense, but your girlfriend is a total bomb," he said when he noticed Elizabeth.

"That's my mom," I said, shaking my head.

"Oh," he froze, his mouth agape. "Got it. Didn't expect that."

"Thanks for the compliment," Elizabeth smiled, a little flustered. For her age, she did look youthful. Maybe moving to a new city had helped; back in Gotham, she seemed much older.

As I began packing, I looked around my room with a hint of sadness. I hadn't stayed here long.

"Are you moving out?" Michael asked.

"No, I probably won't be studying here anymore," I said.

"Oh, because of that incident? Tough break, man. Sorry to hear that. Stuff happens, but don't let it get you down. Life doesn't end here," he said. Maybe we could've been good friends, but now it was too late. Still, I had his number maybe I'd call him someday.

"Can you help me carry this stuff?" I asked.

"No problem," Michael said.

Together, we quickly loaded the boxes into the car. Taking one last look at the college, I got into the car.