Author's Note: Welp, really didn't think I'd be writing this sequel so soon, but…the words of this story were just coming to me more than those of the (Sorry MMPR peeps : ( ) other story I have going and the Metaphysical Marathon "universe" story I have in my head. I have that one all played out, but, unfortunately, most of the dialogue I have is for the middle, action-y parts of it. We'll all have to wait for the return of Sean, I'm afraid. Anyway, thanks to all who read Glasgow. This here piece is supposed to tie-up some of the loose ends that story created, specifically, you guessed it, Ed going on trial. On that note, I was already developing this storyline a few chapters into Glasgow, but the name of it was "The People vs. Edward Lane." Just today I realized they probably use a lot of traditional British things in their legal system in Canada, so I googled it a little and realized that name would have sucked, because, duhhh, this story takes place in Toronto. Anyho, there are probably A LOT of legal mistakes in this story. Let me just give you a heads up that I am 1.) not a JD, and 2.) not a JD who lives in Canada. Therefore, google my help me, but I know I'm gonna screw up a bit. Hopefully the story will be compelling enough to overlook those points. Dang, that's a long AN….

I don't own or have rights to Flashpoint or Batman.

The Crown v. Edward Lane

Chapter 1: Set Free

St. Patrick's Hospital

Jules blinked as she opened her eyes to conscious awareness, light stabbing her hazelnut eyes and breaking through to her brain, a brain that she could now register already felt like it was on fire. As she blinked, she took in her surroundings and felt for the first time since she had awakened from some unknown state a couple of days before the ability to consolidate her thoughts and form speech.

"Sam," she whispered, fighting to push the words from her out of practice lips.

"Hey, Jules," Greg popped into her line of sight with a huge smile on his face. He sat on the edge of her bed and began to lightly stroke her face. "Good to hear your voice again."

Jules blinked again, wondering what he meant by that. She could have sworn she'd been talking to him only a short time ago about teaching some course to police academy cadets, but then, she realized she really couldn't be sure of anything at this point. She felt the weight of the confusion she'd been feeling for what now felt like a very long time. Her time-line was off and she couldn't trust anything from her own thinking.

"Sarge?" she tried to voice a question, a longing she felt an emanate need for. "Sam?" She felt her head throb with the effort it took to even voice these simple one word questions and blinked once more trying to will the pain away.

"Yeah, he's here, Jules," Greg smiled out again. It became obvious to her that he had some extreme joy, the reason for which her brain was now not allowing her to become privy to. "He just left for a minute to use the men's room. He'll be back." His smile deepened even more to an extent Jules never imagined anyone could even go without the help of some Joker-like laughing gas of doom. "He'll be so glad to hear you talking again." Greg laughed lightly as a tear of joy began to brim in his left eye. "I know I am."

Jules closed her eyes for a moment, attempting to force the pain she was feeling in her head away. On instinct, she tried to lift her left, dominate, hand to the source of its origin, but found the action too taxing; she found she couldn't will her hand to raise more than an inch no matter how hard she tried. The strain of this failed action upon her face, she lifted her right hand instead and tried to bring it to her head. Before it could reach the offending area, Greg grabbed her hand and held it in both of his.

"It's alright, Jules. You just got hit in the head and have been out for a while," Greg said with a slight, reassuring chuckle. "But it's best if you leave it be for now."

Jules nodded her head minutely in understanding and Greg squeezed her hand to show his gratitude to her awareness.

Just then, Jules winced as the jarring sound of a door opening and slamming back closed assaulted her now out of practice ears. Greg looked behind him and smiled back at her again. He patted her hand and rose from the side of the bed as he turned to speak to the person who had just entered the room.

"Hey, Sam. Look who's up and coherent again," Greg gushed as he let go of her hand and stepped aside.

Coherent? She'd been incoherent? Somehow that seemed right, but she was so confused she wasn't sure what was real and where time stood, so she didn't voice her concerns.

Blinking away this thought, she looked at the approaching form and her heart leapt. Sam.

A deep and genuine smile mirroring Greg's spread across Sam's face as he almost jumped to her side to sit on the bed and reached out to simultaneously touch her face and hold the hand Greg had just relinquished. "Hey, Sweetheart," he breathed out lightly as he leaned forward to kiss her forehead. He laid his own forehead against hers and closed his eyes for a moment before pulling back and staring into her half open eyes again. "How you feeling?" he asked with concern breaking through his joy.

Jules breathed a sigh of relief as she reached up and touched his face, making sure he was real, with the hand he still held, her dominate hand still lying motionless beside her. She was so confused; she would only allow herself to believe his presence was real by touching his so familiar face. She smiled slightly as she felt the stubble on his chin, then frowned, forgetting his question he asked her completely when she felt the presence of a bandage on the hand that still held hers even as she brought it up to touch his face. "Your hand?" she questioned with concern.

She could hear Greg laughing softly in the background as Sam frowned slightly, but then echoed Greg's chuckle. "Told ya," Greg laughed from behind him.

Jules narrowed her eyes, sure she was missing more than some inside joke she just couldn't remember at the moment and stared more deeply into Sam's eyes before catching the bandage on his upper arm as well. She sucked in a breath in concern. She hated the thought that something bad had happened to the man she loved. "Your arm…too," she struggled to breathe out.

Sam chuckled to himself this time, thinking of how of course she would be more concerned about what minor injury he had at a time when she was just fully awakening from a near death situation of her own. "I'm fine, Jules." He turned his head to roll his eyes at Greg. "Don't worry about me. I'm just glad to hear your voice again," he said turning his attention back to her and smiling.

There was that phrase again. The one about hearing her voice as if it was some lost treasure that her team had been searching for and longing to find for some long, arduous time. Confusion hit her again, because she felt the sensation that she'd been talking to Greg just a short time ago, but she reminded herself that she couldn't be certain when that time actually was. Everything just seemed so jumbled.

At this thought, all the evidence before her became apparent. She was laying in immense amounts of pain in an unfamiliar room on some unfamiliar bed as machines chirped and vibrated all around her under too bright lights. Greg and Sam were staring at her, refusing to take their eyes off her, as if if they did, she might disappear into some unknown land, presumably, again. They were smiling like idiots, or children receiving a much desired, but never allowed to dream for, present of Christmas morning. And again, that pain. That fog in her mind. The confusion. Her inability to lift her left hand…

"What," she sighed, trying to organize her thoughts into the coherence Greg claimed she now had once more as Sam and Greg waited patiently for her to finish her thought. "Happened?" she finally got out.

Sam fought to retain a smile even as his eyes darkened for a moment. "It doesn't matter. You're fine now, Jules," he said as if it was his solemn swear and promise to her.

Jules broke total eye-contact with him for the first time since she'd laid eyes on him moments before and turned her head painfully to look at Greg for answers. He sighed and shook his head at Sam as he stepped closer to her and reached out to softly stroke her face again, this time as reassurance for himself.

"You were injured, um," he paused, his thoughts taking another track. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked simply in a nonchalant manner as if the subject at hand had minimal significance.

Jules thought for a moment and shifted through the thoughts in her muddled mind. Lying with Sam outside in a lounge chair on a soft summer's day; Seamus accidently pushing her out of a tree; her father looking on at her with anxiety; swimming with Sam in a cold lake; Sarge asking her to teach a class on negotiation at the police academy; Collin catching her and bandaging her throbbing head. Her throbbing head.

She couldn't be sure which of these thoughts were real memories or even real at all. But with Greg looking on at her with a reassuring smile, she thought to the one that seemed to have the sharpest clarity, the lease amount of haze around the edges.

"You, Sarge," she began as she worked to order her thoughts. She couldn't believe how hard it was to just simply speak. Something really bad must have happened to her. "You," she began and sighed in frustration at her lethargic communication skills. "Asked me to…teach rookies…" she trailed off, deciding that was enough information to share what she was thinking.

Sam blanched slightly, but then sighed as if he was happy she hadn't said something else. Perhaps happy she didn't remember what caused her so much pain now.

Greg picked up and patted her left hand, a motion she found she had trouble feeling as strongly as the contact both men had had with her right hand. "Just a little retrograde amnesia, kiddo," he gave her a previously unused moniker; or at least, she thought it was previously unused.

She blinked at him, willing him as best she could to continue.

He sighed as he shook his head but retained his reassuring grin. "We were on a call. You were hit in the head with a pipe by the subject's look-out while you were Sierra One." Sam flinched and tried to hide the pain in his face from the revelation of this information.

Jules thought for a second, but then reacted without processing all the information she'd been given. "I was Sierra One on a call for the first time in forever and I DON'T REMEMBER IT!" she questioned with as much strength as she could muster. She immediately regretted using up this much cognitive energy to communicate her automatic thoughts; her head ache compounded ten-fold and she winced in pain.

Sam narrowed his eyes and jerked his head for a moment before his grin crept back across his face and he began to laugh. Of course Jules would be most concerned and coherent about losing a memory of performing a now uncommon duty in her job.

Greg laughed along with Sam and leaned in to place a kiss on the crown of her head. "It's okay, Jules. You didn't miss much," he promised.

Another thought began to register in her apparently recently abused brain. She realized she didn't actually know how recently she had suffered this abuse. She studied the elated yet haggard visages of both the man she loved romantically and the man she loved like a father and felt a sense of unwarranted guilt. Somehow she knew she had at least partially, the part that was the victim of a crime of abuse, been responsible for their states of apparent unrest and dishevelment. A part of her cloudy mind reminded her that this was an irrational thought, an unnecessary reaction of guilt, but she couldn't help but feel and register it.

"How long?" she forced her tired and throbbing brain to process and ask. She needed this information more than she needed the comfort of resting her apparently newly awakened, shattered, and unpracticed brain.

Greg looked to Sam to see if he wanted to take a stab at answering her.

Sam nodded, sighed at Greg, then turned back to Jules and smiled with a hint of sadness. "Aw, Sweetheart, that was a full week ago." He brought her hand up to lips and kissed it. "You were asleep for five days and have been just in and out, babbling for the past two." He kissed her hand again and smiled with genuine joy again. "But that's all over. You're back with me now, and we'll just concentrate on getting you out of here as soon as possible."

It dawned on Jules that this unknown room was in a hospital and that she was probably in pretty bad shape if she'd been asleep, in a coma she realized, for a business week; she was probably in for another extended stay in the place she loathed like after she had been shot. It also dawned on her that the entire time she'd been unconscious, Sam had probably been living through some unknown level of Hell. She felt that stab of guilt again and frowned as she flexed the fingers he held in his hand and brushed the stubble covered cheek that she now knew was in such a state as a result of her unresponsiveness rather than just some mocho fashion statement like when they had first meant. "Sorry," she said as she held his eyes.

Sam shook his head and stared at her with a straight, serious expression. "No, Jules, no." He squeezed her hand and rubbed it against his face so as to feel her presence more deeply. "You never have to apologize for this. You never have to apologize for staying alive and coming back to me," he voiced strongly and with conviction as he leaned down, closed his eyes, and kissed her softly on the lips. Jules felt a tear wet her cheek as he held his forehead to hers once again. She innately knew it had come from not hers, but his tired eye. "Never say you're sorry for fighting back to me," he whispered. "I love you so much, Jules," he continued as if he had forgotten Greg was even in the room.

Jules closed her eyes for a moment as she absorbed his words and lightly began to stroke his cheek, showing the strength she still held, the strength of conviction she had in their relationship. She squeezed the hand that still held hers against his cheek and pushed his face back a few inches so that she could stare directly into his crystal blue eyes. "Love you," she said softly, but somehow strongly and with reassurance.

Greg turned away from the couple's tender moment as Sam smiled at her words. "Comforting me at a time like this," he chuckled. "Now I know you're really back."

City of Toronto Court House

"Now remember, OFFICER ED Lane of the Strategic Response Unit," Ed's attorney, Ted Sands, paused to chuckle at his own joke in reference to his and Ed's first meeting, "You only have to say 'Not Guilty.' Just like last time. No editorializing required. Capice?" the young lawyer asked with a hopeful grin.

Ed sighed and rolled his eyes at the young man's counsel. Although he could become exasperated by and often felt weary of Ted's age and relative lack of experience, he had to admit that the kid worked like a pro in mobilizing a team and leading them through their worry and concern for Jules to build a case for re-trying his initial bail hearing, not to mention the way he'd skillfully argued against prosecutors much older and more experienced than him. The kid had legal and leadership chops; there was no doubt about it. But, sometimes his Generation Y crap really got on Ed's nerves.

"Yeah, got it, junior," Ed responded in a clipped tone, but still allowed the young man a slight smile of encouragement despite the fact that he was raising his eyes and shaking his head.

"Okay, cool," Ted responded as if it was a hyphenated word.

Ed had the urge to do what Ted would label as 'Facepalming,' but held off in favor of looking behind him to catch his wife, Sophie's, eye. He smiled and mouthed, 'Love you,' to her. She caught his words, smiled, and gently touched her lips with her hand as if she was catching his expression of love and savoring it.

Ted caught a glimpse of Sophie's display and made a sound that mimicked what one would sound like if one made an inward cough. Ed swore he'd caught the same noise from his 17 year old son at some point. Figures, Ed thought. Ted's only nine damn years older than Clark.

"Dude," Ted whispered to Ed as he turned around from admiring Ed's wife's actions. "I totally want something like that when I grow up," he said referring to Ed's relationship with Sophie.

This time Ed DID 'Facepalm.'

Shaking his head, he slowly turned it to look at Ted with a straight lined mouth and narrowed eyes. Ted puckered his lips before rubbing his hand over them and raising his eyes to the ceiling as if lost in thought of some great philosophical truth.

Ed simply sighed and waited for the hearing to begin.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Hastings," a court clerk soon announced.

As Ed rose with Ted, he turned to the young man and whispered, "Go get 'em, Tiger," with an affected grin.

It was Ted's turn to roll his eyes.

"The Crown against Edward Lane. One count of assault in the first degree. One count attempted murder in the first degree," the court clerk read the charges.

"How does the defendant plea?" Judge Hastings inquired.

"Not guilty," Ed voiced his much rehearsed simple line.

"Mr. Jennings?" the Judge asked the prosecutor in a common procedural manner.

"Although the charges against Constable Lane are quite severe, he is a decorated officer with strong ties to the community and his family," the prosecutor voiced to Ed's and Ted's immense surprise. "I simply request 200,000 dollars bail."

Ted turned to Ed and nodded slightly. He could imagine Ted saying, 'let's take this, man.' Ed simply returned his nod, ignoring the young man's unvoiced, borrowed 60's slang.

"Counsel?" the Judge asked Ted for a rebuttal.

"We have no argument, Your Honor. Two-hundred thousand dollars sounds fair," Ted responded.

"Well, that was easy," the Judge said with good humor. "The defendant will be held until he produces his bond, then released on bail. Next case," he called signaling the need for both Prosecutor Jennings and Ted and Ed to move along and allow for further court proceedings.

Before Ed was rushed off by a bailiff to be held in a court holding cell while his bail bond was being produced, he turned to Sophie, who was now behind him. "Listen, Soph, Honey—"

"Don't worry, Eddie," Sophie cut him off. "I'll just mortgage the house. You'll be home soon." She smiled at him with reassurance, raising Izzy in her arms so that he could kiss her before he was lead off.

"Thank you," he replied as he laid a kiss to Sophie's forehead as well. "I'll be home soon, but…" he trailed off.

"I know. You need to get to the hospital first." Sophie fed him a sad smile. Ed knew she had been there to see Jules, so he wasn't sure if the sadness came from that visit or the thought of having to wait even longer to have him home.

Ed nodded and smiled to his wife. "I'll pick-up supper on the way home," he promised as if today was just like any other day.

Sophie smiled back and gave him a mock admonishing look. "It's about time you pitched in, Eddie."

As Ed left the courtroom with his bailiff escort, he grinned to himself. There was no place like home, and he was heading back. And he believed with full conviction that that was where he would stay throughout and after his trial.

Additional Author's Note: Hahaha, Ted. Ted is my age, so he will speak like me and others in my age group, A LOT, dude. I found that that would not only be a bit of a comic relief part of this story, but also something that would make me more interested in writing Ed scenes. It makes me smile just thinking about it. Also, yay, JAM and Greg-Jules stuff! Now I don't have to cram that into flashbacks and flashbacks only : )

Anyway, please leave a review and let me know what you think so far.

Thanks for reading,

Eals