Author's comments: Ah, heck with it, let's get to trial. I've been dying to start this. Sorry for the short chapter, haven't had much time to write lately.

Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-Six

Part 1.

Olivia stood outside the towering courtroom doors and took a deep breath. As she waited in the hallway, she thought about the six weeks leading up to her trial. The ups and downs had thrown her into a swirl of mood swings, much like a bad carnival ride.

When Elliot was away at work, she had way too much time on her hands, and that was when she tried her hardest to stay out of her head. There were entire days spent tumbling between flashbacks and self-loathing, alternating between checking the locks and trying to motivate herself to get out of the house so she wouldn't start contemplating her worthiness.

Elliot had convinced her to see Huang three days a week, to work through some of the more difficult issues. It helped, but not as much as seeing Elliot every night. When he got home, she found new reserves of energy that revived her in ways she never would have imagined.

Ever since that first kiss, every touch was charged. When he was with her, it was like memories of the blood and the burning flesh and the hatred could not find a space to penetrate through the safe partition of his tender embrace. What's more, he did not dare try to force her to talk anymore, and she was glad he didn't, because if he knew of the depths to which her moods plunged, he would likely have her committed.

Her body was recovering, even faster than Melinda Warner had expected. She'd had surgery to reconnect her shredded insides so that she could use the bathroom the proper way. Elliot had taken care of her like a trooper, waiting on her like a gentleman should. And at her follow-up exam, Melinda—

the only doctor she trusted with her treatment—had been amazed at the extent of her healing.

"Olivia," she had said, "most of the dead skin has sloughed off, and now it's mostly scar tissue. Things can only get better from here on out."

There was very little pain from the actual injuries now—only the wounds from the surgery still burned. But she had very little sensation anymore, and she wasn't sure how well she could tolerate any form of intercourse—at least until she tried it. And that fact scared her. The only thing that scared her more was the thought of Elliot leaving her if she couldn't get back to her former self.

Now she stood at the mahogany doors, ready to enter and watch her fate play out in front of a courtroom full of people.

Part 2.

When Lewis had been wheeled into the courtroom, Olivia had inhaled deeply. She had been expecting him to testify via Skype from a hospital bed, but instead he was here, in the flesh. His assistant turned him around to face her and the rest of the courtroom, and he did not even have to leave his wheelchair, which meant he sat at eye level with her. His eyes first swept the jury with a charming twinkle, and then trained on her, the evil and contempt seeping through.

She closed her eyes, and then forced herself to open them, knowing that the jury would be less sympathetic to a defendant who appeared unapologetic. His gaze stabbed her through the entire opening line of questioning, and then she began to fight back a scowl as he lied to the judge and jury and God himself.

"So, did you do these horrible acts that the defendant accuses you of?" said ADA Michael Cutter.

Lewis smiled widely. "Of course not. It's just a case of mistaken identity. She thought I did it, so she came after me. It's perfectly understandable, of course—if she had been right." He shook his head now. "But she got the wrong guy."

Cutter cast a glance at the jury, and then said, "And what is the extent of your injuries, Mr. Lewis?"

Now Lewis put on a face of downtrodden eyes and a believable frown. Olivia thought she even saw tears in the corners of his eyes. "Well," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry—"

"It's okay, Mr. Lewis, just take your time," said his sympathetic attorney.

Cutter handed him a box of tissues, but he put out a hand to refuse. "Um. Well she stood there, aimed that gun right at my testicles while I was naked and unarmed, and blew them clean off. Not only that, but my penis, too . . ."

Somehow, he conjured up real tears, and wiping them away with his hand, said, "Let's just say that she stole my manhood."

Olivia fought back sarcastic laughter. Glancing at the jury, she saw that most of them were buying his act, empathy visible on their faces. "One last question," said Cutter. "Why do you think Ms. Benson attacked you?"

"Objection, calls for speculation," said Langen, standing.

"Overruled," said Judge Barth. She said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, "Go ahead, Mr. Lewis, but be specific, please."

As if nobody had interrupted, Lewis said, "From the things she's said to me from the beginning, ever since my first arrest of many—all unsubstantiated, she has a thing against men." Olivia could no longer help herself—she shook her head vigorously. "I think she has seen one too many rape cases, and can you blame her? If I was around that for thirteen years, I would probably see all men as rapists too."

"No further questions, Your Honor."