Longest chapter yet. Welcome to the criminal trial of Tyler Joseph. Start the song in the media. It's Hurricane by Lin-Manuel Miranda from the Hamilton soundtrack. You won't get through the chapter while the song plays, which is okay. It's mainly important for the beginning of the chapter anyways. You can replay it if you want to, though. 

Jenna and Mark eye each other across the room. It's as if the attorney is attempting to read him before she starts his questioning. It's unsettling. I find myself getting angry at her for not having her witness totally prepared before the freaking trial. Finally, she breaks the silence, starting her line of questioning.

"Dr. Eshleman, you've been working with my client, Mr. Joseph, for the past four-and-a-half months or so, is that correct?"

Mark's unenthused eyes don't leave Jenna's. "Yes," he replies.

"Please, could you inform the court of your profession?" Jenna asks, trying to pull her skirt farther down her thighs.

"Yeah, I'm a psychologist."

"And in the time that you've spent with my client, Mr. Tyler Joseph, that is, what have you learned as regards to his mental health?" The attorney averts her eyes from the psychologist, leaving me to wonder what the heck is going on with them. I can't do anything, I realize, but hope that her issues don't mess up Tyler's chances of getting out of here.

Dr. Eshleman takes in a deep breath. "Ty- uh... Mr. Joseph? is undoubtedly schizophrenic, with borderline personality disorder and psychopathic tendencies."

My heart drops into my stomach. A wave of hushed whispers wash through the room, but I know something that none of the audience members don't.

He's lying.

Tyler shows no signs of personality disorder. None. Mark knows that. Tyler is schizophrenic, and that's all. Right? Maybe Mark is trying to isolate me as a secondary personality for Tyler. But even if that's the case, that would mean that he was referring to me when he spoke of 'psychopathic tendencies'. I'm a psychopath?

Jenna seems to have calmed from her previous tense state, which leaves me in confusion. She must know he's lying... he must have done it for her. But why?

"So," she asks him, "what exactly does that mean when it's all put together?"

Eshleman scratches at his jaw. "Well, schizophrenia is a disease of the brain that brings delusions and hallucinations. It also causes downright bizarre behavior... meaning that it makes people do things that they would never usually do. It also causes fragmentation of the personality, so when it's combined with any type of personality disorder, it can completely polarize one's being."

Jenna nods. "So... basically, what you're saying here is, and please correct me if I'm wrong, that my client, that's Mr. Joseph, is not in his right mind?" Way to sum it up, I think dryly.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Mark replies.

"-And that, maybe, on March 22nd, the 'polarized' other-half of him, the psychotic, psychopathic side of him, the voice that is constantly tormenting his head forced him to carry out those horrific acts?" I flinch at her words.

"Objection!" the prosecuting attorney, Peter Wentz calls. "Generalization."

"Overruled." Lyndsey answers, waving her hand dismissively as she returns her rapt attention to Jenna. "Continue."

"Yes," Mark answers Jenna, "that's very possible."

"Would you, in your professional opinion, consider it to be most likely?"

Mark pauses, looking like he's trying to figure out how to word his next utterance. "Honestly, it's the only thing that could have happened."

I could hear a pin drop. The tension in the room is unbelievable; even I found myself holding my breath. I look around the room. Wentz is scribbling notes fiercely, writing like he's running out of time. Jenna has a self-assured look, and Mark seems to have no idea of the weight of his words. Tyler's eyes are focused, hungrily taking in every bit of information that's bringing him closer to salvation. Zack looks conflicted, as if he doesn't know what to feel.

"No further questions, Your Honor," Jenna says, taking her seat.

"The prosecutor can now cross examine the witness," Lyndsey says with a graceful nod of her head.

"Thank you, Your Honor," he answers, his tiny frame bopping out of his seat. "How's it going, Doc?"

His demeanor undoubtedly took Mark by surprise. "Uh, fine," he replies.

"Good, good," Peter answers distantly, his eyes falling over Jenna. "The defense attorney, Jenna, she's very pretty, isn't she?"

I snort. "Have you seen this judge?" I ask aloud.

"Objection!" Jenna calls. Same. "Relevance?"

Lyndsey sighs, seeming irritated that they keep interrupting each other. "Overruled. Wentz, keep it professional and get to the point."

"Yes, Your Honor. Dr. Eshleman, how did you meet Dr. Black?"

"We went to college together. That was about... seven years ago?"

"Ah, college. What a great time for romance. You two dated, yeah?" Wentz presses.

"I - uh, yes."

"I can tell. So, you two are close, then?" The prosecutor asks.

"Well, I mean, not anymore, no," Mark says, scratching at his nape and clearly growing irritated.

"Hmph. Well, that's interesting. I was just wondering because I noticed that you chose to keep Joseph's test results private. Which, I mean, isn't illegal or anything of the sort, but I just wanted to know why exactly you chose not to bring proof if Mr. Joseph is, how did you put it? Undoubtedly schizophrenic."

"Dr. Black and I talked about it and we thought it best to keep the results private," Mark says easily.

Wentz smiles. "See, that's the problem. Listen to yourself, doctor. A pretty girl that you have history with comes up and asks you to help her on a case. She could have chosen anyone, but she chose you. Why? Because she knows that she can influence you. So then you run some tests and she tells you to keep them private. See why I'm skeptical? Because, see, I wasn't in the room where it happened, but here's what I'm imagining: you got back some iffy results, maybe not what she was expecting, and so she asked you to keep them private and stick with the schizophrenia defense."

"That didn't happen," Mark says instantly.

"Really?" Wentz asks. "Because it seems pretty plausible to me. She seems pretty passionate about this case, and you seem pretty passionate about her. No further questions, Your Honor."

Wentz sits back down. I am left in awe. His angle of attacking Jenna... it's genius. By making his attorney seem untrustworthy, Wentz has made the schizophrenia defense questionable. It's bad - horrible even - for Tyler, but I would be a fool not to acknowledge its efficiency. Peter seems smug, probably because he was also able to pull some skeletons out of the closet and fluster Jenna pretty bad at the same time. I'll be the first to admit that part was very enjoyable.

"Dr. Eshleman, thank you. You're excused. Does the defense have another witness?"

"I do, Your Honor," Jenna replies after clearing her throat. "Zack Joseph is my final witness. Please approach the stand."

The man obliges, slowly making his way towards the bailiff, who swears him in. He sits, his awkwardly sinewy body pushing against his suit in a way that looks nothing short of uncomfortable.

"Zack, can you tell the court what your relationship with Tyler Joseph is?"

"Yeah," Zack answers, his voice sounding strained. "He's my brother."

"And what's your age difference?"

"Two years," Tyler's brother says. "I'm twenty-three right now and he's twenty-four, but his birthday is coming up." His voice gets quiet; sullen. "December 1st."

Jenna waits a moment before commenting, "He's only two years older than you... so you've been around for most of his life."

"Yes. He was, like, one of my best friends growing up."

"I'd like you to tell me and everyone else in the court what your brother is like."

"Tyler is one of the sweetest, kindest, and honest-hearted people in this entire world. He's patient and forgiving and reasonable... he never assumes anything, and he always gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. He sees so much good in the world, even when he's constantly being presented with the bad. He's a good guy. He's always trying to be a good brother; a better brother. He works hard in every relationship.He doesn't like to hurt people. Not physically, not emotionally... My brother is a good guy." Zack's eyes are locked on Tyler's the entire time he speaks. The latter has tears streaming down his face. He looks pathetic. I look over to the jury. A black man wipes his face quickly, trying to be subtle. A Chinese woman sniffles. An elderly Hispanic man blinks rapidly and harshly. My gaze falls upon a glassy-eyed Lyndsey. It's in this instant that everyone is pathetic, myself included. At one time or another, we've all let our feelings get the best of us. We've all dropped out nonchalant act in moments of weakness, whether it was in front of an audience or not. But it is these moments of weakness that allow for sympathy and pity, and that's exactly what Tyler needs from the jury. "Pathetic". The term that I once used to express contempt for the boy is actually turning out to be his greatest asset.

Jenna senses the emotion in the room, allowing some time to pass before continuing her line of questioning. "So, Mr. Joseph, when you heard what you heard, when you were on the phone with your mother on March 22nd, what was going through your mind?"

"Well, I-" Zack cuts himself off to start over. "Don't get me wrong. I was hurt and upset about what he had done, I still am, and I always will be, but I knew that it wasn't him. I mean, it was Tyler, it was undoubtedly Tyler, but that wasn't my brother. Because I know him, you know? That wasn't something he would do, you know? He just kept apologizing over and over, and it just sounded like somebody was making him do it... forcing him... of course, I didn't know that the person was in his head..."

"Mr. Joseph," Jenna starts, "if it's okay with you, I'm going to now play Madison Joseph's phone call to police from that day. After the tape is finished, i'm going to ask you to comment on it."

"Yeah, okay," Zack agrees, wiping his palms across his pants. Tyler closes his eyes tightly, as if doing so will block out the sounds that are soon to come. Jenna starts the tape, screams flooding from the courtroom speakers.

"911,what's your emergency-" the operator begins nervously.

"My brother just shot someone, my dad, I think," Madison says in a frantic whisper. More screaming is heard, and then, -bang-. "Oh, God. He's killing everyone. Oh, God. 21182 Clairmont Avenue, please, oh, my God, please hurry up," she says, her voice breaking. -bang-. "Oh, my God."

"Ma'am, help is on the way, okay? Ma'am?"

"Tyler, Tyler, stop. Put the gun down, okay? The police are coming, you have to stop. You have to stop, Tyler."

"Please, please don't make me kill my little sister," Tyler says to me in the recording, his voice hardly audible. I can't hear my response, but I can remember it. I showed Tyler no sympathy back then. It's hard to believe that it was only a few months ago. "I'm sorry, Madison, I'm so sorry."

"No, don't. I'm sorry, whatever I did, whatever we all did, we didn't mean to hurt you, Tyler, but you don't have to do this. Please, Mom and Dad wouldn't want you to do this. Jay wouldn't want you to have to be locked up for this, Ty. Just stop now, it'll be so much better for us all if you just stop now," Madison sobs.

"I love you, okay? I love you so much," her brother reminds her. -bang-.

"See," Zack says after the tape ends and Jenna looks at him expectantly. "'Don't make me kill my sister'? That wasn't Tyler, it was whatever third-world demon is inside him."

I actually laugh out loud. I know I should probably take umbrage to being called a demon, but I can't help but jest. He's probably right about it anyways. I mean, I'm no angel, and I've always felt pretty other-worldly. I'm joking about this to myself as Wentz begins his questioning.

"So, Mr. Joseph," he starts, "both you and the defendant were very athletic growing up, yes?"

"And still are," Zack answers proudly.

"So would you say that he's capable of hurting someone physically, injuring them in a fight, perhaps?" That knocks the pride right out of Zack.

"I mean... sure, yeah, I guess. But he wouldn't do that."

"Mr. Joseph, were you aware that on the evening of July 1st of this year, while in custody, the defendant hit a security guard with his own baton, knocking him unconscious for over two hours?"

Zack eyes Jenna, who mouths, 'Sorry,' before letting out a quiet sigh. "No, I was not aware of that."

"Well," Peter says with a grin, "now you know. So what I want to know is... if he could do it while in custody, why wouldn't he continue to do it if he's let out? What's stopping him?"

"If he's let out, Tyler is going to a hospital to get some help. I'm not just going to let him live his day-to-day life as if nothing ever happened."

"Why didn't you get him help before?"

"Because we didn't know he was schizophrenic before," Zack replies through nearly gritted teeth.

Peter's smile stretches like that of the Cheshire Cat. "I see. Mr. Joseph, earlier, you said that the defendant used to be one of your best friends. What changed?"

"I didn't say that," Zack argues.

"Mr. Biersack," Lyndsey interjects, "what was the exact quote?"

The dark haired typist looks at his notes. "'He was, like, one of my best friends growing up.' -Zack Joseph."

"Thank you, Your Honor, Andy," Wentz says with a nod in both of their directions. "Again, Mr. Joseph, what changed?"

"I didn't really mean it like that... he just went to college and I didn't see him for a while."

"So... you're saying that your relationship with your brother changed after he left for college? He grew more distant?"

"Yeah, I guess," Zack says.

"Would you say that your brother is pretty smart?" Wentz asks as he paces the courtroom.

"Yes."

"Smart enough to... I don't know, I'm just spitballing here, maybe go off to college although he only wanted to play music and then devise a plan during his years away? A plan that involved a lot of research on a disease that's impossible to be 'tested' for? A plan that involved pleading insanity when no one knew he was," Pete air-quotes, "schizophrenic? And maybe adding in a few little twitches to make it believable?"

"He- he wouldn't do that," Zack objects.

"You said the same thing mere seconds ago, only to be disproven. The truth is, Mr. Joseph, that you don't have any idea what he's capable of. No further questions, Your Honor."

:.:

After an entire day spent in court listening to hours of professional arguing, it finally ends. The jury leaves to deliberate. As the last juror ends, I realize that it's really over. Relief washes over me as I realize that I'm getting closer to the day that I'll never have to see Jenna ever again. The mentioned looks confident as she walks with Tyler and I to the SUV waiting outside to take us back to Belle Reve.

"We did such a good job," she gushes. "Seriously, I think we did it - in fact, I know we did." She ushers Tyler into the truck. "We've got this, Ty," she says just before she shuts the door and waves goodbye.

"'We've got this, Ty,'" I mock as Tyler fiddles with his hands, which are resting in his lap.

"I think... I think she likes me," the inmate says, a small smile attempting to form on his face.

I gasp sarcastically, his ignorance frustrating me endlessly. "You don't say?" I roll my eyes.

"I think I might ask her out, you know, after all this is over." Tyler leans back, closing his eyes and letting his head loll back. I don't even respond; I don't feel like it. I'd rather not remind Tyler how much I hate Jenna, how much I'd love for her to die. And I definitely don't want to tell him that if anything that Wentz said resonated with the jury, this may never be over.