Used, Chapter 57

[darkdreamer]

Hey, guys, hope your holidays are treating you well :P I'm trying to take advantage of the few days I've got before the next (and thankfully last) of them gets here by getting some updates out. I hope you enjoy the two I have for you today. Please let me know what you think :)

*hugs*
DoS

Title: Used
Beta: misanthropicobs
Rating: R
Pairing: House/Wilson/Cuddy friendship, slight Wilson/OFC
Warnings: implied and explicit non-con, violence and non-con of a flashback/memory sort, mild language, general angst and trauma and darkness
Summary: One night leaving the hospital, a violent attack leaves House devastated and broken. In the aftermath, Wilson and Cuddy struggle to find a way to help him heal -- while House fights just to find a way to survive.


Chapter 57
Incriminating

 

Following House's testimony, Brooke called several other witnesses to the stand to speak for the side of the prosecution; and their testimonies only seemed to cement in the minds of the jury the certainty of Tritter’s guilt that House’s impassioned words had inspired.

Jenna's brother testified about his involvement in the assault on House, and what Tritter had told him was going to happen as opposed to what had eventually happened, confirming in the minds of the jury that Tritter had indeed masterminded the entire event.

A voice expert was called, who verified that one of the voices on the tape was undeniably a complete match with the vocal sample taken from House; and the other was more than 99% certain to be Tritter's voice, with only a bare minimal possibility that it was someone else's voice.

The stories of Tritter's other victims had helped to give House the confidence to come forward; but in the end, their testimonies were ruled inadmissible by the court. Since Tritter had never been proven in court to be responsible for their injuries, they were not allowed to testify as to their mere suspicions.

The others who were involved in the attack were, of course, unwilling to testify. None of them had been offered a deal of any kind, and therefore, they were still maintaining their innocence, hoping for favorable results in their own trials.

Fortunately, none of those testimonies seemed necessary by the time Brooke was finished.

Once Brooke had called her last witness, the defense attorney rose and began to present Tritter's side of the case.

They had a vocal expert of their own, who stressed the fact that it was indeed possible that it was not Tritter's voice on the tape. Of course, the margin of possibility the defense’s expert had decided upon was slightly higher than the one Brooke's expert had given, but still, House hoped, not high enough to convince the jury that he had hired a fake to help him frame Tritter.

House's other attackers were led into the courtroom and onto the stand in chains, where they testified as to having no knowledge of any such conspiracy as the one House claimed had occurred. They lauded Tritter, citing his exemplary career history, claiming that in all the years they had worked with him, his activities had always been completely above board, and claiming that the man was as innocent as they themselves claimed to be of any wrongdoing.

Of course, House noted with a grim sense of satisfaction -- the prison jumpsuits and handcuffs lent their testimony a certain anti-credibility that he found quite encouraging.

Finally, the defense had only one witness left to testify.

"The defense calls the defendant, Michael Tritter, to the stand."

House's stomach lurched, and he stared down at the floor, instantly cowed by Tritter’s subtle glance in his direction as he rose to his feet and started toward the witness stand.

"It's all right," Wilson assured him in a hushed, soothing tone. "He can't hurt you..."

"I can't do this," House muttered, reaching for his cane, blindly leaning toward the aisle in a panicked haste to escape. "I can't stay here for this... I've got to go..."

"Okay," Wilson whispered with a ready nod, starting to rise. "Whatever you need is fine. There's no reason why you have to stay..."

But Wilson froze on the edge of his seat, waiting, as House stopped before rising, staring up at the witness stand through wide eyes, transfixed with a mixture of fear -- and a reluctant but fierce curiosity that Wilson instantly recognized.

"I... I have to know, though," House murmured, not taking his eyes off Tritter. "I have to know... what he's going to say – how he's going to explain this away."

"Are you sure?" Wilson asked in a low, concerned whisper, studying House's expression. "Because you don't have to stay if you don't want to..."

"I... I'm sure," House decided after a long moment's hesitation. "I... I need to stay. If I don’t, I… I know I’ll regret it later."

House watched with a sense of mingled dread and morbid fascination -- and rising indignation and anger -- as the defense attorney asked Tritter about his initial meeting with House, and Tritter denied ever kicking his cane at all.

"He was just upset because I questioned his omniscience as an all-powerful doctor," Tritter concluded with a coolly derisive smirk. "He didn't like the fact that I questioned his refusal to do any actual tests to determine my condition -- and he retaliated by assaulting me with the thermometer."

"What about the drug charges against Dr. House?" the defense attorney continued. "Was that your own retaliation against what he did to you in the clinic?"

"Not at all," Tritter replied with calm confidence, shaking his head slowly. "I coincidentally happened to stop Dr. House for speeding -- going somewhere around twenty miles an hour over the speed limit, by the way -- and when he was belligerent and resistant with me, I did a routine pat-down search and discovered that he was in possession of an excessive amount of prescription drugs."

"I see. So, all the charges were legitimate, then."

"Completely," Tritter confirmed with a nod.

"In that case, I'd assume you were a bit frustrated when Dr. House was acquitted of those charges."

Tritter shrugged. "Not really. That's the nature of the legal system. It's much easier in this country to be acquitted of a crime you have committed than it is to be convicted of a crime you haven't -- and that's a good thing. You win some, you lose some, but that’s the way the system works. The verdict isn’t up to me, and it shouldn’t be. Once Dr. House was acquitted, well -- that was the end of it as far as I was concerned."

"Then... how do you explain the accusations Dr. House has brought against you?" Tritter's attorney asked with a thoughtfully curious expression. "We know that he was indeed brutally assaulted -- but why would he accuse you?"

"Well..." Tritter's smile faded into an expression of false concern as he pretended to consider the question before meeting his attorney's eyes sadly. "... I couldn't venture to say what was going through his mind. I’ve never been through that kind of – of mental and emotional damage myself, but I have dealt with many victims of rape, however, in the course of my career... and I would guess that, considering the brutality of Dr. House's experience, he's likely suffering from PTSD and rape trauma syndrome. The only thing I can think is that he somehow transferred his guilt over what he did to me, and that manifested itself into this... this very sad and misguided delusion that I was the one who did this to him."

"Are you the one who did this to him, Mr. Tritter?" the defense attorney asked in a kind, patient voice.

Tritter's voice was clear and firm as he leaned into the microphone and stated, "No, I am not."

House's face was flushed with shame at Tritter's patronizing, derisive suggestions about his emotional and mental health. Once or twice during his testimony, Tritter glanced in House's direction in an accidental-on-purpose sort of way, and House found himself immediately forced to look away, sick with fear under the other man's subtle scrutiny.

Still, despite his fears, he managed to stay in the courtroom, fighting back his impulse to flee, as Tritter gave his utterly false testimony -- and that was, all things considered, quite an accomplishment.

Brooke got up to cross-examine Tritter, and House immediately began to feel a little better as she began easily pointing out the glaring holes in Tritter's story. She pointed out the fact that Tritter had no alibi to explain his whereabouts on the night of the attack, no supporting witnesses besides the other men accused of the same crime, as well as the overwhelming physical evidence of his guilt which she had already presented to the court.

Within minutes, Tritter's calm, smug assurance had been replaced by tense frustration, his ice blue eyes smoldering with suppressed resentment and fury as he visibly struggled for control.

Brooke seized onto his obvious weakness, deliberately riling him as she questioned him about his encounter with House in the clinic, recalling what House had told her about what he had said and done to agitate the detective. She recounted those things to Tritter, feeling a sense of satisfaction that she was on the right track when she saw the flash of barely suppressed fury in his eyes at the memory.

"He wasn't showing you the proper respect due your position, was he, Mr. Tritter?"

Tritter frowned. "It had nothing to do with..."

"Don't you just hate that kind of attitude? That mindset doctors get that they somehow know more than everyone else around them?"

Tritter shook his head. "That's beside the point. Yes, that’s frustrating, but it has nothing to do with what happened…"

"Wasn't it just infuriating to you that he refused to acknowledge your authority?" Brooke persisted, a mocking note of amusement to her voice. "After twenty years of public service, you've earned a little respect -- and Dr. House wasn't giving it to you. And you're not the kind of man who likes being disrespected, are you, Mr. Tritter?"

"That has nothing to do with anything!" Tritter snapped. "I've been falsely accused of a crime I haven't committed. That's the point, here... not the way I felt about how House talked to me..."

"But you did feel some way about it, didn't you?" Brooke pressed. "You were offended... angry... righteously indignant. And then, on top of it all, he adds injury to insult with the humiliation of leaving you in the exam room, humiliatingly exposed, with no recourse but to seek out the assistance of a stranger to remove a thermometer from your rectum. I don't know about you, Mr. Tritter, but that would make me mad enough to hurt someone."

"I didn't hurt him."

"But you wanted to... didn't you?"

"Who wouldn't want to?" Tritter snapped back at her in frustration. "Who wouldn't want to show that arrogant little prick that he couldn't get away with abusing his power like that? Who wouldn't want to take back their dignity by taking a piece of his? He doesn't get to just treat people like that!"

Brooke was quiet for a long moment, allowing Tritter's unintentional outburst to sink into the minds of the stunned, horrified jurors, who were staring at Tritter with varying expressions of disgust... and rising certainty.

"No," Brooke agreed softly at last. "No one gets to abuse their power and steal away people's dignity like that. No one but you. Isn't that right?"

"I didn't do anything!" Tritter insisted. "Just because I wanted to get back at him doesn't mean that I did!"

"No," Brooke conceded, her smirk slowly forming again on her lips as she turned halfway toward the jury. "No... but the video recording of you harassing and threatening your victim for a second time -- the victim's blood on the knife found in your possession -- those things do mean that you did."

Brooke turned to face the judge, giving Tritter a contemptuous glare before stating with clear confidence, "No further questions, Your Honor."

Brooke returned to her seat with an air of surety, casting a bright, encouraging smile in House's direction as she sat down -- and for good reason. She had pressed Tritter into revealing a glimpse of his true nature to the jury, as well as reminding them of the reasons why there was little doubt as to his guilt.

It was quite clear that she had won.

The jury appeared to be utterly convinced.

"Does the defense have any more witnesses?"

The judge turned toward Tritter's side of the room with an expectant look, and the defense attorney rose slowly to his feet. His expression was dark with frustration and reluctant resignation as he replied quietly.

"No, Your Honor. The defense rests."

"All right. If there are no further witnesses, and no further pieces of evidence to be admitted..." The judge waited, allowing time for either attorney to interrupt her, but neither did. "... then we will dismiss. Reconvene tomorrow morning at nine a.m. for closing statements."

TBC...

Accident Lawyers

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(hugs back, also hugs nice moosey Wilson, NOT mean Wilson from some other stories!)