Author's Note: To respond to a few reviews, don't worry, this will eventually all lead to some serious Elsanna development, it's just going to take a while of them both growing as people. Anna still really doesn't know who she is, as she spent fifteen years pretending to be someone else, and Elsa has all but buried herself in her career. They're only just now re-entering each other's lives and remembering what they mean to each other.
Reza Novaria: Yes, Anna is somewhat of an idiot presently. She still has no idea what she's doing in relationships and hasn't really learned healthy patterns for them. It's why Esmeralda and her really can't work.
The guest reviewer that asked about Esmeralda's belated poly explanation: Yeah, she should have told her before their date, but she chickened out. As much worldly experience as Esmeralda has, she doesn't have a lot of relationship experience and she'd been wanting this for the past year. She also thought she had more time, she didn't expect the inexperienced formerly straight girl to jump into bed with her on their first date. So yeah, she should have told her, and that's on her, but that's why she hadn't.
Trigger Warning: Explicit mention of self harm and suicide, as well as conversion therapy.
Elsa and Anastasia glared daggers at each other across courtroom 2B of the Manhattan County Courthouse. They hadn't spoken since their Sunday dinner, not that communication had been common before then. Mr Thompson and an associate sat beside Ms. Agnarrsen, while Ms Hawkins sat beside Ms. Romanov. The bailiff called for everyone to rise, and they did as instructed.
"The honorable Judge Frollo," he finished, as a stern, pompous looking old man, with features of carved bone, rose before them.
"Be seated," he snarled. I've won the case already, Elsa mused, knowing the judge's predilections for what he considered virtue. I can't believe he didn't recuse himself. Hopefully Anastasia doesn't manage to see to that.
"Your honor," Anastasia challenged, right on cue. "You don't think you may be," she considered her words for a moment, "a poor choice for this trial?" She hasn't dealt with him before, or she wouldn't have said that.
"You think I am incapable of being impartial?" the judge asked, waving a hand before him as if swatting away her words.
Anya blanked. "No, your honor," she caught herself before she shoved her foot any further down her throat, "I apologize, I know you to be a fair and honorable man."
"Very well then, let's have your opening statements."
Anastasia stood, her suit jacket almost catching on the chair. She caught it before she took the chair with her and managed to maintain her composure as she approached the jury box. She took in a breath and closed her eyes, drawing forth the speech she'd spent the previous night memorizing. "You see before you a grievously harmed woman, and the man who killed her child –"
"Objection!" Elsa immediately called. "If she wanted to establish that, there should really have been a criminal trial."
Frollo smirked, he never laughed at a flippant remark, but he made it clear when he appreciated it. "Sustained. Jurors, disregard that remark."
Anya glared at her ex-girlfriend, it was completely acceptable to say such a thing. "You see before you a grievously harmed woman, and the man who led her child to suicide." She glanced at Elsa nervously. The objection had had even more of an effect than Elsa had dared to hope. "A man whom she had sought out for help, and who instead made her son hate himself so much that he felt he had to take his own life. The man before you is a monster, and should be treated as such."
Alistair looked questioningly at Elsa, but she shook her head. The associate remained silent.
"He took her money under the pretense of offering a cure for this woman's child, and instead gave them both only pain. Do not let him off the hook for the death he helped cause." She glanced from juror to juror, only a few had seemed moved by it, the objection had screwed her, Elsa seemed to always manage to do that. She took her seat.
Elsa rose, her shin length blue and silver dress swishing against the desk as she walked. She calmly approached the jury box, a sad smile on her face. "It is truly tragic that Jim Hawkins lost his life, my client grieves for the loss of his former patient, but he did not cause it. It is true that Jim Hawkins did see Mr. Thompson, to help him cure himself of his gayness, he was a young man full of hate," she hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing, "hate for himself, which his mother only exacerbated. She let him believe that who he was was wrong, and that he needed to be cured. My client offered to do precisely that, but Mr. Hawkins stopped attending his sessions. As we will show, there were two months without a single session with Mr. Thompson before Mr. Hawkins killed himself. Perhaps if he had continued his therapy, he'd still be with us." She smiled warmly at her old friend and took her seat.
Anastasia glared at her former best friend for a solid minute.
"Ms. Romanov," Judge Frollo called, his voice sounding weary of her slacking, "Are you going to call a witness or were you hoping that angry looks would win you the case?"
"Of course, your honor," she sighed. "The plaintiff calls Sarah Hawkins to the stand."
The woman rose from her seat next to the redhead and approached the witness stand. The bailiff swore her in and she took her new seat.
"Ms Hawkins," Anastasia began, "Why did your son begin seeing Mr. Thompson?"
"Objection," Elsa called again. "Speculation."
Frollo grinned again, staring down at the increasingly annoyed lawyer. "Well, Ms Romanov, can you justify that question."
"As Mr. Hawkins mother, she would be best suited to say what he was feeling at the time, now that he is no longer with us."
Frollo sneered at the woman but relented. "I'll allow it."
Ms. Hawkins looked between her lawyer and the judge, silently asking for permission to speak.
"I said I'd allow it," Frollo repeated.
"Right," she swallowed. "He was having unnatural urges, and I felt that he needed help." Well now that certainly makes things easier. "My pastor recommended Mr Thompson, he said that he had helped several members of his congregation." Easy objection, but she's only building my case for me.
"How did he act after he started seeing Mr. Thompson?"
"He seemed a lot better," Ms. Hawkins admitted. Anya gaped at her client. Elsa knew her well enough to know that she'd rehearsed that question, the answer had changed. Sucks for her. "I know I said before that he seemed moodier, but that didn't happen at first. It did eventually, he seemed distraught after a couple months of seeing Mr. Thompson, so I insisted that he stop, but at first he seemed like he had a new lease on life, like he'd finally rid himself of those urges that had been controlling him."
Anya managed to recover impressively quickly. "You say he seemed distraught later, could you elaborate?"
"Yes, he started cutting himself. He hadn't done it in years. He said that Mr. Thompson wasn't helping, that he only made him feel worse, that he said –"
"Objection!" Elsa shouted, jumping from her seat. The bastard claimed he hadn't been expressing any suicidal ideations.
Anastasia gave a loving look to her dear friend as she calmly reminded her, "This would fall under the 'catch-all' exception to the hearsay rule, Ms. Agnarrsen."
The judge nodded. "Overruled."
"Ms. Hawkins, would you continue?" Anastasia asked, her eyes never leaving her opponent's.
"Mr. Thompson said that he was too weak, that he was pitiful, and that cutting himself only proved it. That if he didn't start acting like a man then he may as well not even bother seeing him."
Elsa collapsed into her chair, glowering at her client. Fuck.
"Your witness, Ms. Agnarrsen," Anya announced jovially.
"Your honor, a moment to confer with my client?" Elsa asked shakily.
Frollo nodded.
She leaned past the associate, to whisper right in the man's ear. "Is anything she said untrue."
He shook his head, fear blanketing his face. Then an idea sparked in his eye. "But he did see me again after that. Twice more actually."
Elsa's face warped into a predatory grin. "Perfect," she whispered, before turning back to the judge. "I'm ready, your honor."
She walked to the witness stand, her eyes even with the seated woman. "Ms Hawkins, I am truly sorry for what happened to your son," she announced.
"Are you going to ask a question?" Anya heckled, prompting a quick fall of the gavel.
"You pushed him to seek treatment, didn't you, Ms. Hawkins?" Elsa asked. Her demeanor had regained its former placidity and her voice was calm.
"I wouldn't say that I pushed," she replied.
"Firmly suggested then?"
"I suppose," she sighed. "I just don't think it's healthy, those desires. People like you –" That damn celebrity status. "No offense, but you're degenerates. He needed help, I didn't want him to end up overdosing in some alley."
Elsa's anger got the better of her. "Do I look like I'm overdosing in an alley?"
She blinked; the question had startled her. "Well, no, but it just leads to indecent behavior."
"Were you aware that numerous studies show that what actually leads to that behavior is a lack of parental support and acceptance?" Elsa asked. Anastasia should have objected, she must have been as pissed off as Elsa was. Hardly professional of her.
"I was not," she gulped.
"It's also what leads to suicides." That one prompted an objection. Better, hate to think you're losing your touch. "Retracted. Is it true that Jim went back to see Mr. Thompson after the incident you described?"
"It is," she allowed, clearly confused.
"How did he behave after his next session?" It was a dangerous question, but any damage it did could likely be undone during her direct with her client.
"He seemed better, at first. He stopped cutting, he started playing sports. It seemed like he turned around. Then he started withdrawing again. I realized it had to be Mr. Thompson so I insisted that he stop seeing him. I thought it had helped, he seemed happier, but he never got any better. Then, when I came home one night –"
"No further questions," Elsa interrupted her, pivoting on her heel and returning to her seat, while the witness sobbed in the stand.
"Ms. Romanov, do you have any more questions?" Frollo asked.
"Yes, your honor." She was once again standing before her witness. "Ms Hawkins, referring to that study my colleague mentioned, I understand this must be very difficult for you, but how did your support for your son change after he left Mr. Thompson's care?" So that's why she didn't object. I walked right into that one.
"After he stopped seeing Mr. Thompson, I can't say that I was exactly okay with it, but I understood that this wasn't a thing that could just magically be changed. He had started dating someone, I tried to be supportive, I'd let him have his friend – his boyfriend over. I met him a few times. It was difficult for me, but you can't believe that I caused my son's death!"
"Thank you, Ms. Hawkins, no further questions."
Elsa stood. "Your honor, may I ask a recross?"
"Of course, Ms. Agnarrsen," he replied, gesturing for her to continue.
She stayed at her table as she asked, "This relationship, were there any problems with it before your son's untimely death?" Never ask a question you don't know the answer to, Elsa, rule one, this will bite you in the ass, you're acting desperate.
"Yes," she sighed. "They broke up a few days before." Pay dirt. Anya gave her another dirty look.
"Ms. Romanov, you may call your next witness," Frollo announced.
"The plaintiff calls Lawrence Bartlett to the stand," Anya replied.
A heavy set man wearing a cheap purple suit entered from another room. The bailiff swore him in and he took the stand.
"Mr. Bartlett, would you please state for the record why you're here?" Anastasia asked.
"I was a former patient of Mr. Thompson," he replied.
"What were you seeing him for?"
He took in a nervous breath, fidgeting the whole while. "He was supposed to help me stop being gay."
"How long were you his patient?"
"I saw him for three years," he admitted.
"In that time did you manage to be," Anastasia swallowed, forcing the last word out, "cured?"
"For the first year it seemed like I was getting better, I even managed to have my first girlfriend."
"Then what happened?"
"We broke up. And I spiraled."
"Could you elaborate?" Anastasia asked, walking around the witness stand.
"She found out that I had these urges and she left me. When that happened, I lost it, I started screwing every guy in sight."
"To steal a line from the defense, how did that make you feel?" She smiled, her gaze level with Elsa's. One of the juror's chuckled lightly
"At the time, I felt terrible. Now I know that I shouldn't have, that I only felt terrible because that's what Mr. Thompson taught me to feel. There's nothing wrong with who I am, and he made me hate myself for it!"
"What did that lead to?"
"After a few weeks of living like that, but still seeing him every week, he had me convinced that I was just too weak, that I could be straight if I only wanted to. I couldn't take it anymore. I was so tired of hating myself, of not being able to stand the man looking back at me in the mirror. So I tried to end it all."
"Who would you say is responsible for that?" She asked, her voice soothing.
"He was!" Lawrence screamed, pointing a finger at Alistair. "He made me hate myself so much that I couldn't see any other way out of it."
"No further questions."
The associate next to Elsa, whom she had not bothered to learn the name of, attempted to stand, Elsa stopped her. She wasn't making that mistake again. She approached the witness. "Why did you go see Mr. Thompson in the first place?" Elsa asked.
"What do you mean?" Lawrence gaped, confusion clear on his face. "I wanted to be cured."
"So you already hated who you were before you saw him?"
"Well, I suppose, but he only made it worse!"
"You just said for the first year, he made you better, is that not true?"
"Well it was –"
"No further questions." She took her seat again. Anya continued to glower at her.
"Ms. Romanov, do you have a re-direct, or would you like to call your next witness?" Frollo asked impatiently.
Anastasia chewed on her lip. "I have no further questions for Mr. Bartlett and I call Dr. Joshua Sweet to the stand," she finally answered.
A few minutes later, a large man, wearing a pale grey suit appeared before the courtroom.
"Dr. Sweet, would you state your credentials for the court?" Anastasia asked.
"I'm a board certified psychiatrist, and a member of both the APA and the AMA. I've been working with patients for the last twenty years, first as a psychologist then as a psychiatrist after I obtained my medical degree. I've worked with a number of people who underwent conversion therapy and have had to be treated for PTSD due to it." Of course she saved him for last.
"I have here a study that you published, that I would like to enter into evidence," she handed the judge, Elsa, and the witness copies of the paper. "Would you enlighten us on your study?"
"Of course. It's one of a number of studies going over the damages of conversion therapy. As I mentioned early, many patients display symptoms of PTSD, and there isn't any evidence that someone's orientation can actually be changed," he explained, indicating various passages in the paper to emphasize his points.
"What are some of the potential results of attempted conversion therapy?"
"It can be very damaging to patients, it often results in self-destructive behavior, negative self image, and in extreme cases, suicide."
"In your expert opinion, was Mr. Thompson responsible for Mr. Hawkin's death?"
"Objection, leading the witness," Elsa called.
"Sustained." The gavel hammered again.
"No further questions."
Elsa took her place before the witness.
"Dr. Sweet, have you ever personally examined Mr. Thompson's particular methods of conversion therapy?" She asked, resting a hand lightly on the corner of the witness stand.
"I haven't worked with him in particular, but from my research, all methods of conversion therapy are more or less equally damaging."
"More or less? So you assert that some are more damaging than others?"
"Well of course, everything could always be worse. The ones that try to beat kids into being straight, are certainly more damaging than the therapists who just tell them to be straight."
"So it's possible that my client's methods aren't as damaging?"
"I haven't worked with him, I don't know what his methods are."
"No, you don't, so you can't say with any clarity what his methods may entail or cause, correct?"
"I suppose not, but in my experience they are all incredibly harmful."
"Is it true that you also never worked with Jim Hawkins?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her as she turned slightly toward the jury to judge their reaction.
"That is correct."
"Could other factors, such as having been recently dumped by his boyfriend, or having a mother who pushed him into therapy in the first place have led to Jim Hawkins' suicide?
Dr. Sweet hesitated for a moment. "Of course, a number of things could have led to that, I can't say with certainty which one."
"No further questions."
"Ms. Romanov, do you have a re-direct?" Judge Frollo asked.
"I have no further questions, and no more witnesses at this time," she replied, sighing lightly.
"Wonderful. It's lunch time, I'll call an hour-long recess, and then the plaintiff can call their first witness." The gavel sounded again, and Frollo rose to exit the room.
Both of the people to Elsa's left stared at her. "Can I help you?" she asked, desperate to go get food. She'd skipped breakfast, as she always did when Tiana was out of town. This time she was shooting another episode of a TV show.
"Are we going to win?" Alistair asked, his fingers tapping out a staccato on the table.
Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing heavily. Just let me get some food so I don't faint during your direct. "Can't say that just yet, but I mitigated most of the damage they could have done, there's no reason to think that you'll lose."
"Even after –"
"Even after everything, now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go get some food."
"I'll go with you," the associate suggested, rising from her chair.
Elsa ignored the toadie, heading to her car. She would be more capable of dealing with this, once her stomach was no longer so empty. The shorter woman had trouble keeping pace with Elsa's stride, but her more sensible shoes allowed her to catch up at the entrance to the courthouse. "Just let me eat alone," Elsa sighed, "I need time to breathe."
The younger woman pouted but left her alone. She may have said something in response, but Elsa wasn't listening as she headed for her car. She drove to Oaken's, she needed some comfort food, this fight with Anastasia was taking a lot out of her. I just hope it doesn't cost me equity.
When she arrived at the counter, Oaken greeted her warmly. "Hoo hoo, Elsa, it's been a few days."
"Yeah, Tiana insisted I actually eat breakfast while she was in town," she replied, yearning for silence.
"The usual?"
"With a hot chocolate," she answered, handing him a ten and taking a corner seat so she could gaze out the window and prepare herself for the rest of the trial. Maybe skipping breakfast every morning isn't the best plan. At least I had some coffee.
Her hot chocolate and chocolate croissant were brought to her table. Elsa took a bite of the croissant as she watched the pedestrians walk by. With my next two witnesses and a decent closing I'm pretty certain I'll win, that's not even really up for debate. I'm going to make equity. I just might lose Anastasia in the process. They hadn't exactly been close the last year, but losing her from her life forever was still somewhat of an overwhelming prospect. She blew on the hot chocolate while she mentally went over her questions and closing again.
Back in courtroom 2B, the case of Hawkins v Thompson resumed. The honorable Judge Frollo banged his gavel and silence resumed. "Is the defense ready to call their first witness?" He asked once everyone was seated.
"Yes, your honor," Elsa answered. "The defense calls Alistair Thompson to the stand."
A few moments later, Elsa approached her client in the witness stand. "Mr Thompson, what makes you entitled to help these people?" she asked.
"I'm a board accredited therapist, with my masters from Ohio State University," he replied, having regained his composure over the course of the recess.
"What would you say is your success rate?"
"Well, it depends on what you consider success. Around a third of my patients manage to completely overcome all urges, a third manage to live healthy lives while still occasionally dabbling in their less savory urges, and another third simply don't put in the work."
"Which third would you say Mr. Hawkins was in?"
"He simply didn't put in the work," Alistair explained, sounding on the verge of tears. He really is a good actor.
"What could you have done differently to prevent this tragedy?"
"Nothing, I'm afraid. I confronted him when I found out that he was cutting. I do not approve of self harm, but he said that was the furthest it has ever gone, and he had no desire to die."
"Objection," Anastasia called.
"Ms. Romanov," Frollo explained in the most belittling way possible, "I do believe you already explained that the catch-all exception covers this. Overruled, sit down."
Alistair continued. "He seemed to be doing better after I confronted him. Maybe if he'd continued his therapy with me, this wouldn't have happened."
"No further questions."
Anastasia approached the witness stand.
"As already demonstrated in Exhibit A, are you aware that your practice has been time and again shown to only cause harm to your patients?" Anya asked.
Mr. Thompson smirked. "None of these studies were done with my practice, other conversion therapists may be hacks, most of them aren't even accredited, but I know what I'm doing and I've been able to help a number of people."
"Do you have any evidence to back that up?" Ms. Romanov asked, her own smirk rivaling that of the witness.
"I believe that would be my lawyer's next witness," he replied slyly.
"Then let's get to that," she announced, "No further questions."
"The defense calls Eli La Bouff to the stand," Elsa announced. A few minutes later, she stood before her witness. "Mr. La Bouff, could you explain your relationship to Mr. Thompson?"
"I'm a patient of his," he answered. "I've been seeing him for over ten years."
"Has he managed to help you?"
He took in a deep breath, it was fairly clear he was uncomfortable talking about his past. Glad he didn't chicken out today. "He's helped me a lot. When I first started seeing him, I'd been very troubled. I was doing unspeakable things, I was snorting cocaine, sleeping with men, my life was not a good one. Since he started treating me, I've managed to get my life into a much better place. I've shaken those cravings, I have a wife and a beautiful daughter. I'm even able to hold a steady job. I don't know what I would have done without Mr. Thompson."
"Thank you, no further questions."
Anya promptly took her place. "Did you ever meet Jim Hawkins?" she asked. "Perhaps in the waiting room."
"No, I didn't."
"So you can't really say anything about his mental state or how Mr. Thompson was treating him?"
"I'm only here to attest that Mr. Thompson helped me a great deal and that he can help others too."
"No further questions."
Elsa was out of witnesses. A few other patients had come forward offering to testify, more than she had expected, but just repeating the same thing over and over again wasn't going to help. She didn't want to overwhelm the facts of the case with redundant information from character witnesses. "I have no redirect and no further witnesses, your honor."
"Very well," the judge answered. "Ms. Romanov, your closing statement."
Anastasia stood and straightened her suit. The fitted navy number made her look older than she was. "You have seen the harm that conversion therapy can do. You have seen the harm that Mr. Thompson himself has done. He caused Mr. Bartlett to attempt to kill himself, and everything suggests that he caused the same thing for Mr Hawkins, he just had more luck with that attempt. Conversion therapy is an incredibly dangerous practice. Ms. Agnarrsen will argue that there were other causes that contributed to Mr. Hawkins' death, but she can not change the fact that Mr. Thompson was one of those causes. You can't let him get away with that. Alistair Thompson is a monster who makes money teaching people to hate themselves and forcing them to be someone else. His actions caused Ms. Hawkins's son's death. Next it could be your son," she looked from one juror to another, "or your daughter. The preponderance of the evidence suggests that he played a role in Jim Hawkins's death, it's up to you to make sure he pays for it." She blinked back her tears and took her seat. Even I feel bad after hearing that, and I'm a cold-hearted bitch, I'm sure the jury ate it up. Let's not let it sink in.
Elsa approached the jury box, her steps unhurried. "There's no denying that Jim Hawkins's death was a great tragedy, I've maintained that this entire time. I weep every time another one of us is victimized. This child was mistreated by his mother and forced to see a therapist that he clearly didn't want to see. However, it was only when he was out of my client's care that this tragedy occurred. He hadn't seen Mr. Thompson in two months, he had just been dumped, and his mother has explicitly stated that she was still having trouble accepting him. He didn't kill himself due to therapeutic malpractice, he killed himself because he was a sad, hurt boy, who felt like no one loved him. You can disagree with my client's practice all you want, I certainly do, but that doesn't make him responsible for what happened. Don't make an innocent man pay, because a boy's mother refused to accept him. You're better than that." Wow, I only hate myself a little.
She took her seat, letting out a long exhale and staring up at the ceiling. Whatever happened next, it was out of her hands now.
"Ms. Romanov, do you have a rebuttal?" Frollo asked, looking as if he desperately wanted the answer to be no.
"Yes, your honor." Anastasia walked before the jury, looking each of them in the eye. "It's true, there were a lot of factors that contributed to Jim Hawkins's death, but he wasn't an unloved and unaccepted boy. His mother took her time, but she met his boyfriend, she embraced who he was, she only had to get away from the influence of people like Alistair Thompson to do so. A man she trusted to help her son, and who caused his death. There's no escaping that. Make him pay." She took her seat again. Neither she nor Elsa met the other's eyes.
"The jury will now break to deliberate," the bailiff announced before the jurors filed out of the room.
