Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Santa Bring My Baby Back to Me Pt 3 (NSFW)

A/N: final part! I promise! Did not intend to turn this into a court room drama but this story took a complete life of its own and who am I to stand in its way?

As you much as you promised yourself that Noah wouldn't control you, even from afar, as much as you made yourself repeat mantras over and over about your own independence, he broke you. He shattered your soul and let you with the pieces lancing into each bit of your heart. That Christmas had irrevocably changed your life.

Your mother lost her shit.

After Noah left, she immediately comforted you and raged about how horrible he was. Then, without asking you, she called the police on Noah and left a personal testimony to follow yours. At first you were furious, not wanting to deal with him any more than you had to. But your mother had pulled up receipts on his behavior. Not only had he abused you in every sense of the word, this was a pattern. You couldn't let him continue, even if it hurt you along the way.

Now you sat in your stiff dress in the dry courtroom, adjusting the collar like you had in the past. On your right, you held the hand of Elvis. Your best friend and your supporter during all this hell. He had never doubted you for a second and cared for you in every way he could. Today he wore a plain grey suit, with his hair slicked back and hand on yours. Occasionally, when Noah dared to look back at his former girlfriends, his other hand would snake over to draw little circles on your knuckles. On your left sat two women. Mary Ann Sheldon and Paula Nicholson. Past girlfriends of Noah and the two other star witnesses.

The prosecutor cleared his throat and flicked through a folder before saying, "I'd like to call Y/N L/N to stand."

You swallowed and stood, shuffling down the awkward seats and towards the center. A guard held it open for you and you were ushered towards the witness stand. Time seemed to halt as you passed by the defense. Noah sat, prim and proper in a gaudy blue suit, though his eyes held promise of murder. You looked at your hands.

"Please state your full name for the court."

You did.

"And you're 20, Ms L/N?"

"About to be 21," you said dryly.

"Please state your relation to the defendant."

You swallowed tightly, looking towards the attendants for Elvis. Your heart skipped a beat before calming when you saw his bright blue eyes and encouraging smile. Straightening you said, "ex-fiancé."

"How long were you and the defendant in a relationship?"

"1 year and 6 months."

"How old were you when you met Mr Carlson?"

"19."

"And how old was he?"

"31."

"Objection," the defense lawyer interjected with a little forming between his hairy brows. "Irrelevant line of questioning."

"Your Honor, I was simply trying to show the age gap and potentially imbalance of power between Ms L/N and Mr Carlson at the beginning of their relationship," the prosecutor countered.

"The line of questioning just serves to paint my defendant as a villain. Ms L/N was a legal adult by the time of meeting and the relationship."

"Sustained," the bald judge said with a grunt.

The prosecutor bit his lip but continued on with a different form of questioning, "why did you and Mr Carlson break up?"

"He abused me."

The little defense lawyer shouted, "Hear say!"

"Overruled."

The prosecutor fought a little smile, "when was the first instance of Mr Carlson's abuse?"