A.N.: Okay, I'm sorry about the extreme delay in updating. I've been a little busy. Hope you enjoy. Please review. Thanks.
She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to do this at first. In fact, she had been angry at them for indirectly pushing it, for telling her it was the only way and that it would be good for her, but never flat out telling her that she should do it because everyone was still a little sensitive around her, which she hated. Still, she understood what they meant and did ultimately agree to it because she knew how important it was. However, now she thinks she will think twice before telling a victim that this is the first step to closure. She had learned that closure was a myth and she didn't expect to get it after the verdict was handed down, or any time soon. She didn't expect to get over it at all. The most she could wish for was some semblance of the life she had before that night. But she would settle for just a few moments a day when it wasn't on her mind.
The chair is cold and hard and from where she's sitting the room seems huge, like it goes on forever. She could see the four of them, Elliot, Cragen, Munch, and Fin, her friends, her colleagues, sitting behind Casey, eyeing the monster that ruined their friend's life with unimaginable hate, ready to come to her defense at any moment. Her own personal security team.
Still, she is scarred to face him, to look directly at him. She isn't sure she could remain composed while starring back at him. She's afraid to look into those piercing green eyes again. Those eyes that had tricked her, that had pretended to be kind and gentle.
It was strange at first. She had never imagined being on this side of it. Casey directed her questions at her with care and discretion, but she was still uncomfortable divulging such a personal experience. If it had just been Casey it may have been different, but the entire court room was listening to her describe it. And it was a little daunting painting the picture for everyone.
She tries not making eye contact with anyone as she speaks but it does little to ease her qualms. When Casey finishes up and the defense lawyer rises she notices her legs and hands are shaking. She can't seem to stop them. He shuffles over till he is directly in front of her, standing proud in his expensive suit and slicked back hair, or what remains of it. She knows him. He has defended a number of rapists in the past. He has sat in the interrogation of her precinct next to some piece of scum going on about due process or lack of evidence. Another person she would never be able to look in the eye.
He starts with a series of simple questions about how she ended up alone at the bar. She handles them well, truthfully.
"How many drinks would you say you had that night Miss Benson?" he asks directly, raising his eyes at her accusingly. Instantly you could feel the shift in the court room. Now its serious, now they're getting somewhere.
Olivia sits up straight. This is what the jury would consider when deciding if Daniel Fletcher was guilty or not.
"It's Detective Benson," she says firmly, proudly. She isn't going to let this greasy little man with half a conscience get to her.
"Sorry," he smirks. "How many drinks did you have that night, Detective Benson?"
"Three," she answers flatly. She had made it a point to figure that out before the trial started. She knew that it would be brought up, probably a key point in the defense. Fin had pulled her tab from Mike's Tavern.
"Three," he repeats as he rolls his head towards the jury. She never understood why lawyers always felt the need to repeat things. "So would you say you were drunk?"
"Not at all." She locks eyes with him for the first time. "I had been there for over two hours."
"But you're judgment wasn't as clear as it would have been if you were sober?" he insists.
"I can't be sure of what would have been. Unfortunately, I lack the gift of clairvoyance."
The lawyer smiles, amused by her sass. He scrambles for another way to use her brief alcoholic indulgence against her. "Didn't you stumble upon standing, claiming that you're last drink went straight to your head?"
"Yes."
"So, your night of drinking did have some affect on you?"
"I had a little headache. I wasn't drunk," Olivia insists.
The lawyer walks towards the jury. "How did you get home from the bar, Detective Benson?"
"I walked."
"Alone?"
"No. He walked me home." She made it a point not to waiver, to keep her voice steady.
"He who?"
She eyes the lawyer coldly. "Dan."
"He offered to walk you home, isn't that right?"
"Yes."
"And you accepted?"
"Not at first, but he insisted."
"He insisted? Why did he insist?"
"He said he didn't want me to walk home alone. That it was dangerous."
"But you're an officer of the law, Detective. Don't you know how to protect yourself?"
"Yes, but…"
"But you accepted his offer anyway? In fact, you never mentioned that you were a detective," he interrupts.
"Yes, but…"
"So you wanted him to walk you home because you didn't want the night to end."
"Objection," Casey interjects angrily.
"No! That's not true," Olivia shoots back.
"Is there a question Mr. Taylor?" the judge demands.
"Yes. Sorry Your Honor." He walks back towards Olivia. "Why did you accept his offer to walk you home, Detective?"
"I thought he was sincere," Olivia answers guiltily.
"Detective Benson, do you make it a habit to bring home strange men from bars?"
"No I do not," she answers calmly although she's fuming on the inside.
"So, tell me how my client ended up in your apartment."
"He asked to use the bathroom." She can't believe how ridiculous it sounds out loud. How did this all happen? Well, he asked. She shutters at the sheer stupidity.
"He asked? And you agreed to let him come in?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want to be rude." She hated admitting it because she still felt guilty about it. She hated that she was that naïve.
"You didn't want to be rude?" he asks incredulously, a smile dancing on his lips.
"Yes."
"So what happened after he used the bathroom?"
Olivia tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and exhales. "He asked for a drink of water."
"And did you get it for him?"
"Yes."
"Because you didn't want to be rude," he mocks. She glares at him. "Did you ask Mr. Fletcher to leave after you gave him the water?"
"No. Not right away."
"Why not?"
"I told you, I didn't want to be rude," she insists.
"Rude? You keep saying that. What were you so concerned with being rude?"
"Because he was being nice to me and he was a guest in my house."
"So Mr. Fletcher was nice?"
"At first."
"At any time before the alleged assault did you feel threatened by Mr. Fletcher?"
Olivia looks up and answers quietly, "no."
"So he kept you company after your friend left you stranded at a bar. You engaged in friendly conversation with Mr. Fletcher. You even flirted a little. He walked you home. You let him into your apartment. Did you feel you owed Mr. Fletcher something?"
"Absolutely not," Olivia spits disgusted by the thought.
"So why let him in? Why not ask him to leave?"
"How many times do I have to say it? I didn't want to be rude. He seemed nice. I thought he would just leave on his own." She struggles to keep her tone under control.
"But he didn't leave on his own, did he? He sat down and you joined him-willingly. Correct?"
"Yes," she answers guiltily.
"So what happened after you sat down next to Mr. Fletcher on the couch?"
Olivia shifts nervously under the scrutiny of her co-workers. "He started to touch me so I asked him to leave."
"Did you say please leave?"
"No."
"No. What did you say?"
"I-I don't remember exactly."
"You said it was getting late," Taylor points out. "You never specifically asked my client to leave."
"Yes. I told him I thought he should go."
"You thought he should go? But you didn't actually want him to go, did you?"
"Yes I did!" Now, for the first time on the stand she has to fight back tears.
"Detective Benson, you had been flirting with Mr. Fletcher all night. You brought him back to your apartment. What were you expecting to do?"
"Nothing. I was just going to let him use the bathroom like he asked."
"Were you attracted to my client, Detective?"
"I thought he was charming," she admits.
"It doesn't sound like Mr. Fletcher had to force you to do anything."
Olivia's face fills with shock and disgust, but before Casey could come to Olivia's defense Taylor moves on. "Is it possible that you willingly engaged in sexual relations with Mr. Fletcher and then felt ashamed about sleeping with a man you hardly knew so you made up this little tale of rape?"
"No! He held me down and forced himself into me. I didn't willingly engage in anything. And I most certainly did not make anything up."
"So why wait a week to mention it to anyone?"
"I was ashamed."
"If you were raped why were you so ashamed?"
Olivia pauses. She really didn't know why. "I don't know. I just was."
"No more questions your honor."
"You may step down," the Judge says
Olivia takes a seat next to Elliot and listens to the rest of the proceedings. She feels sick with anticipation. She has no idea how she did or if the jury believed her. She was telling the truth but how much did that really count for? The criminal justice system could be a tricky thing. It doesn't always serve the good, and sometimes it protects the bad. She had seen too many perps walk, too many victims get screwed. She wasn't holding her breath. She knew things didn't always work out the way they should. She didn't believe in happy endings.
Dawn Hawkins testimony was similar to her own, although she was a bit more shaky. Taylor was able to get her into her head, confuse her, make her feel guilty. When she stepped down from the stand she was in tears.
Olivia listens as the lawyers finish up their closing statements. Casey argues the victims' credibility and the violence and deceit behind the attacks. Taylor focuses on the events leading up to the attack, the obvious attraction and flirtation between the women and his client. He paints Dan Fletcher as a honest and kindhearted man who wouldn't need to rape a woman.
Olivia's nausea builds. Soon she'll find out if the bastard who destroyed her sense of security, her sense of herself, would be held accountable for his actions.
They sit outside of the courtroom while the jury convenes. It could take hours for a verdict to be returned but they weren't going anywhere.
"Here," Fin says handing Olivia a cup of coffee. Her elbows rest on her knees, her head in her hands.
"Thanks," she replies without looking up. "God, what's taking so long?" she whispers.
Casey puts her hand on Olivia's shoulder. "These things take time," she says.
"I know," Olivia responds. She stands up and turns her back to her friends. "I just want to get this part over with."
"You're doing great Liv," Elliot tells her. She disagrees, but she gives him an understanding look.
A couple of hours tick by. They sit, huddled on the benches outside the court room, sometimes talking, sometimes not.
Finally, they're called back into the court room. Everyone assumes their previous positions.
"Has the jury reached a verdict?" the judge asks.
A man seated on the far left side of the jury rises. "We have, Your Honor."
"How does the jury find the defendant?"
Olivia glances at Daniel Fletcher one last time and takes a deep breath. She could feel someone squeeze her hand. Her heartbeat quickens.
"We find the defendant…"
A.N : Would you hate me if I said that's the end? Just kidding…more to come soon, I think.