darkdreamer | Used, Chapter 59

Hi, guys, here's the latest Used update... I'm still trying to recover from the holidays, but think I should be getting back to a regular schedule this week :)

*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 59
Free

As they headed quickly back toward the courtroom, House's mind raced with swirling, muddled thoughts, none clear, all contradicting each other, and nearly drowned out by the pounding of his own heart. When they reached the courtroom door, and he watched Wilson's hand move to open it, one thought broke through the cacophony that filled his mind.

This is it. After today -- we'll know. He'll be in prison -- or he'll be free, to come after me again. This is it -- the moment all of this has been leading up to -- and I'm not ready...

Overwhelmed, suddenly House found that he could not breathe. The edges of his vision began to go gray, and he felt his knees weaken beneath him. Wilson's strong arm was all at once wrapped around his back, under his arms, holding him up, and Wilson's dark eyes searched his with concern.

"Hey... you okay? House?"

"Yeah," House replied breathlessly, nodding his head in uncertain affirmation, his gaze slightly averted in a vain attempt to hide his near-panic from Wilson. "Yeah, I'm... I'm fine..."

He's going to be acquitted... he's paid off the jury, or managed to make me look bad enough that they don't care what he did, and he's going to get off, and he's going to come after me and...

"House... it's gonna be okay," Wilson assured him gently, steadying him with his other hand on his arm, seeking his gaze until House reluctantly met his eyes. "It's going to be fine, House. There is no way that they haven't returned a conviction. A verdict this fast -- that's all it can mean. It didn't take them long to decide, because the evidence was too strong. It's a conviction, and he's going to prison. Okay?"

House nodded again, swallowing hard, his eyes downcast in embarrassment as spectators edged past them through the open doorway into the courtroom, a few of them not bothering to hide the curious stares they cast in his direction.

"Okay," he whispered. "Okay, I'm fine. Let's... let's go."

Wilson was unconvinced – Because he’s not a moron, House ruefully reminded himself – but nevertheless, he accepted the words with a sigh, his arm around House's back tightening slightly to partially support him as he led the way into the courtroom and to their usual seats.

"All rise," the bailiff called out in his authoritative monotone, announcing the judge’s arrival. "Court is now in session."

"Be seated," the judge ordered calmly, tapping her gavel against the small pad on her desk as she glanced around the courtroom. "We are here to receive the decision of this court in regards to the case of the state versus Michael Tritter. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?"

The foreman stood, holding the judge's gaze as he nodded and declared solemnly, "We have, Your Honor."

The bailiff approached the jury stand to take the folded sheet of paper in the foreman's hand, and House felt certain that the panicked racing of his heart had to be audible amidst the tense silence that filled the room. His mouth was dry, his throat convulsing as he struggled to fight back the sharp wave of nausea that filled it.

The bailiff carried the verdict back to the judge, who took it from his hand and unfolded it, showing no visible reaction as she read the words written there, then folded it again and handed it back to the bailiff. He in turn took it back to the foreman, who took it as the bailiff returned to his post.

House felt as if he couldn't catch his breath, and felt his vision blurring again. He closed his eyes, lowering his head as he swallowed hard, fighting back his physical reaction to the fear and uncertainty of the overwhelming moment. Suddenly, he was sure that Tritter was going to be found not guilty.

Please... please, no...

"Mr. Foreman," the judge addressed him in a curt, formal tone, "will you please read the verdict?"

"Yes, Your Honor." The foreman lifted the sheet of paper, opening his mouth to speak -- and House had to fight past the roaring in his ears to hear the words he said. "On the charge of first degree kidnapping with special circumstances... we find the defendant... guilty."

House felt something within him collapse, and suddenly, he was shaking violently, the rest of the foreman's words an indistinguishable hum as he leaned forward, resting his head in his trembling hands.

"On the charge of first degree rape with special circumstances... we find the defendant guilty. On the charge of conspiracy to commit kidnapping and sexual assault... we find the defendant guilty."

The judge nodded in satisfaction which she made only a token effort to conceal, facing forward again to address the defendant. Around him, House heard the muted exaltation of his friends -- Wilson's whispered, "Yes!" and Cuddy's quiet tears of relief and joy -- but for him, time seemed to stand still.

Something like a physical shock wave seemed to pass through him, rocking him and tilting his world on its axis as he struggled to focus on his surroundings. He saw Tritter seated a few rows in front of him -- wide-eyed, staring up at the judge in stunned horror – and he realized that the man really hadn't expected to be convicted, despite the overwhelming evidence against him.

Tritter shook his head slowly in disbelief, not quite believing the judge's words. He glanced almost wildly around the courtroom, as if searching for someone who might reveal it all to be some dreadful joke, some dream from which he would awaken to find that his life was all as it had been. By mere happenstance, Tritter's gaze met House's for the briefest of instants; but the convicted detective couldn't even muster a threat through the rising panic that consumed him.

House was startled to find that the compulsion to look away, to avoid Tritter's gaze, had left him; and he found himself strangely fascinated, unable to break eye contact. He studied Tritter’s expression, stunned to see in the detective’s eyes shades of the same doubt and fear that had plagued his every waking thought since the attack.

Tritter was the first to look away from the brief, silent exchange, as he was led away to the holding cell in chains -- but not before House saw what he needed to see. The shocked, sick look in Tritter's wide, ice blue eyes was intimately familiar to House; he knew what Tritter was thinking. He knew that Tritter was wondering how this could be happening to him, if there was possibly any escape from the situation he had created for himself.

There wasn't.

House found that knowledge infinitely satisfying.

"We will reconvene tomorrow morning at nine for sentencing. Court is adjourned," the judge announced with a final tap of her gavel.

"See?" Wilson exulted, turning to face House and embracing him in a spontaneous hug. "See? It's over. We won! He's going to prison, just like I said!"

House nodded slowly, strangely silent, as his friends celebrated around him, thrilled by the jury's decision. Brooke joined them as they rose from their seats and headed for the exit, talking about a celebratory meal, and discussing where they should go to enjoy it.

House did not participate in the conversation, moving as if in a trance, simply following the others as they made their way toward their vehicles. He knew that he should be thrilled, should be overjoyed with the victory they had just won -- but he couldn't seem to feel anything at all. He was numb, still struggling to process the fact that they had actually won, and it was over.

It didn't feel over.

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

"In all of my career in law enforcement, I have never encountered such a disturbing case, nor one with such clear evidence that the crime was motivated by nothing more than sheer cruelty and sadism – and pure evil."

The judge surveyed the courtroom as she spoke, finally allowing her severe gaze to rest on Tritter as she continued coldly.

"Before I impose a maximum sentence on a convicted defendant, I make it my practice to carefully weigh all the factors, to ensure that justice is carried out in the most fair and effective manner possible. Mr. Tritter, I'll confess that it didn't take me very long to decide on your sentence."

House swallowed hard at those words, studying her face, trying to determine whether that meant that Tritter's sentence would be exceptionally hard... or lighter than he had hoped. He drew in a deep, shaky breath as he tried to control his rising fears.

"I am convinced beyond any reasonable doubt that the needs of the victim in this case, and of society at large, are best served by your receiving the maximum possible sentence for your crimes. Therefore, that is what I have decided to impose. For the charge of kidnapping, I sentence you to a prison term of life, without possibility of parole. For the charge of rape, I sentence you to a prison term of life, without possibility of parole. For the charge of conspiracy to commit these acts, I sentence you to a prison term of twenty years, without possibility of parole."

As the sentence was declared, House kept his eyes on Tritter, watching his reaction. The detective actually began to shake visibly as the judge stripped him of his freedom, shaking his head in denial, overwhelmed by the horrific knowledge that the rest of his life had been taken from him.

"Your sentence will begin immediately, Mr. Tritter. You will never again be a free man -- as you do not deserve to be, and the innocent people with whom you might come in contact with do not deserve to be subjected to the evil of which you are capable. Bailiff, take the defendant away. Court is adjourned."

As Tritter was led away, and the spectators began to slowly clear the courtroom, House remained in his seat, staring forward in silent shock at the place where Tritter had sat -- just trying to process the impact of what had just happened.

Now it's over.

House realized as he sat there, trying to adjust to the reality of safety and security that had just come into existence, that a part of him had never expected Tritter to actually be convicted. Tritter's menacing lies had filled his mind, consuming his thoughts and convincing him that no matter what happened, he would never truly be free of the shadow of Tritter's influence.

But he's gone... he's really gone, and for good... he can't... can't touch me... can't...

House was vaguely aware that Brooke was approaching them, a beaming grin on her face as Cuddy leaned forward to shake her hand, returning her triumphant smile.

"We did it!" Brooke declared. "We put that monster away for life!"

She reached for House's hand -- but House didn't respond, just staring forward, eyes wide and stricken, seeing something far beyond where Brooke stood.

"House?" Wilson's voice was hushed, concerned, as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and tried to pull him around to face him. "Hey... you okay?"

House finally responded to his touch, reluctantly turning to meet Wilson's eyes; but his gaze was distant... lost. Wilson felt a moment's alarm as he recognized the familiar signs of a flashback, and immediately tried to avert it, if it was not already too late to do so.

"Hey... it's okay..." he murmured reassuringly, his hand running slowly up and down House's arm in a soothing motion. "It's okay. It's done, now. He's gone, and you're safe..."

House swallowed hard, staring into Wilson's eyes without seeing him for a long moment -- before recognition began to dawn in his eyes. His lips began to tremble slightly, and Wilson saw the moisture pooling in his eyes, as he echoed Wilson's words in a hoarse, disbelieving whisper.

"S-safe... it's... it's… over... it's over..."

Wilson saw the crash coming mere moments before it hit, and gave Cuddy an urgent, meaningful glance and a nod toward the door. She swiftly rose to her feet and gestured for Brooke and Eve to follow her from the room, leaving House and Wilson alone in the now empty courtroom.

Grateful for the privacy, Wilson pulled House closer with a gentle urgency, relieved when House allowed his embrace, unresisting, still staring at him in confusion and disbelief.

"It's over," he whispered again, as if trying to convince himself. "It's over... I'm s-safe..."

"Yes," Wilson confirmed tenderly, blinking back tears as he drew House close to him, running a slow, soothing hand through his hair. "Yes, you're safe now, House. It's over. You're safe."

And finally... finally... House began to believe him.

In the quiet stillness of the empty room where his life had just undergone a momentous change, House finally allowed the tumult of his thoughts to flow out with his unbidden tears. The truth began to sink in, as House gradually allowed himself to know that the threat was gone, and he was really safe at last.

Quiet, restrained tears became great, wrenching sobs, as the pressure of the terror of the past few weeks was released with the force of a hurricane -- and Wilson just held him in nearly complete silence, rocking slightly and murmuring the occasional reassuring word, but mostly just allowing him the time he needed to weather the storm, and come to terms with... everything. As much a cause for celebration as it was, it was still a tremendous thing to process.

After unending weeks of torment and fear and uncertainty -- at last, the nightmare was over.

TBC...