The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

Wrong Ideas

*content warning - mentions of sexual abuse*

Victor's glare was enough to burn a hole through someone's head. Unfortunately for Mason's lawyer, he was the target. Yet, he didn't seem bothered. He was confident, the type of self-assurance that was borderline arrogance. James found himself thinking that he had never seen a better representation of a cliché lawyer in his life. A real-life sharply dressed shark with perfect teeth.

The man started by confirming Victor's name, Victor's school, Victor's relationship with Mason. He asked about his age and went over everything that had already been established.

"Victor-," he started.

"Mr. Wright, I would rather not be addressed by my first name," Victor cut in, cold and mean.

James had to cover his mouth to stifle his laugh.

The man regained his footing fast, unbothered. "Mr. Arlington, do we both agree that you have a history of underage drinking?"

Victor blinked slowly. It was as if everyone in the room was holding their breath, waiting to see what this young man had to say. "Yes," Victor answered.

The air thickened. James wasn't sure if it was his imagination, or if some of Mason's friends, colleges, or whoever the fuck they were, were judging Victor. Maybe it was only his paranoia creeping in, whispering all the wrong things in his ear, or maybe he was right. Maybe those bastards' morals were as dirty as Mason's innocence.

"And we can also agree that sometimes you haven't made the best decisions while drunk," Wright said.

Mark or Michael objected. "That's not a question!"

Too late, James thought, no matter what the judge would say, no matter if it got denied or approved, the words were out there. The idea was planted.

"It's an implied question," Mason's lawyer shrugged.

The judge sighed. "You can answer."

"Yes," Victor said, not breaking eye contact.

"Where you sober during the alleged sexual assault?" the man asked.

Victor tapped his fingers on the wooden stand. James couldn't hear the sound they made, but he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

"I was sober," Victor said.

"Did you ever make it clear that you're not interested in a physical relationship?"

This time, Victor didn't answer. He bit his bottom lip and peeled off his dry skin, leaving behind blood. He licked it. Then he continued to bite onto his lip.

James' lungs tightened. Or his throat. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't force himself to inhale deeply, and he was sure his vision was turning black.

"Did you ever make it clear that you're not interested in a physical relationship?" Wright asked again, a bit slower, words too sweet, too kind, drenched in fake sympathy.

"I - I'm not sure. I think I did."

"Can you say for sure?"

"I don't think I can't. I - I must have said something. I just - I can't remember but -,"

"That's all right, you've already answered the question. You can relax."

James had a murderous thought. After the first one formed in his head, others did too. That man was implying that saying yes was the only way someone could consent. As if there weren't other signs! What a complete asshole! James gripped on the side of his chair and closed his eyes, trying not to force himself to sit. To not shout. To not throw a chair at Wright's head.

The lawyer smiled. He didn't need to add anything else; the implication was clear. Victor was sober; Victor didn't say no. And, of course, he brushed over the allegations that the abuse started when Victor was a minor.

James doubted that there was any physical proof. He looked at Victor. This time he didn't sink into his seat, but he was ashen, sick.

"How tall are you?" Wright asked.

Mark or Michael objected, louder this time. It was irrelevant, he claimed. The judge agreed and asked Wright to move along to his next question. James was fuming. It was exactly what Victor had mentioned earlier. Victor was a tall man. Victor was a young man. Victor would've been able to fight his way out if he "really wanted to." James' blood rushed to his head. He held onto Oliver and closed his eyes, trying to focus and ignore his nausea. Surely nobody thought like that. Surely nobody had those types of beliefs. Surely they had to see that there was no way this was Victor's fault. Nobody could be that blind, right?

And just like that, Mr. Wright finished his cross-examination.

They didn't take a break. Victor got up slowly and returned to his seat, moving slowly, like he was made out of lead. Then they asked an expert to the stand. A therapist. Mark or Michael was the first one to question her.

Is it normal for someone that suffered physical abuse to act out like that? Yes, was the answer. In his expert opinion, does Victor show signs of someone who has suffered such trauma? Yes, was the answer.

James started having a good feeling about it. Unfortunately, that lasted as long as a sneeze. The defense lawyer got up next.

Is it possible that his father's death caused the trauma? Yes, was the answer. Is it true that you're being paid 500 dollars per hour to testify? Yes, was the answer.

The judge asked for a recess.

Victor remained seated, pressing the heel of his palms over his eyes. Ollie reached him first and touched the back of his neck.

"I'm fine," he said before anyone had the chance to ask anything. It was a blatant lie; even a blind man could see through it.

"Do you want some coffee? A candy bar?" Ollie offered.

Victor nodded.

James couldn't help himself. "What an asshole, what a complete and utter asshole. Victor, look at me, don't listen to that guy. Nobody actually thinks like that. No normal person thinks like that."

Victor puffed out a short, bitter laugh. "You'd be surprised." 

Author's note<3: 

Blaming a survivor is never ok. Please don't do it. It's sad that there are people out there who still think that's ok.

I promise that everything will be ok and Victor is going to get all the love in the world.