Work Text:
Emmett saw the symptoms start from across the room, and hastily excused himself to the first-year student who’d been picking his brain about balancing classes and work-study opportunities. Elle looked altogether frozen by the time he reached her, but the man, clearly drunk, seemed not to care, if he had even noticed. One hand still lingered on her waist and the other was snaking around her.
Emmett shoved him back. The man glared at him and swung, though Emmett dodged it. “She’s not interested,” he said tersely, positioning himself between the two of them. He wanted to make as little a scene as possible, but he wasn’t letting him touch her again. The man swung at him again, and Emmett dodged, but a hand flew out to intercept it before it would have reached him anyway.
“She’s not interested, jackass,” an even colder voice said, and Emmett breathed a sigh of relief as he shot Enid a grateful look before he left the man to her not inconsiderable wrath and turned back to Elle.
Her eyes were fixed over Emmett’s shoulder. “Elle,” he said gently. Her eyes flicked to him.
“Come on,” he murmured, tilting his head towards the door. She didn’t move. Taking a deep breath, he reached for her hand, grasping it lightly enough that she could, and hoped she would, pull away if it was too much for her. She clutched at his hand tightly, and he squeezed back and began to pull her towards the door.
She followed stiffly, silent until they reached the open air, and then she let out a high-pitched sound, her breathing starting to come in short, ragged gasps. Emmett guided her over to a stone wall to sit, and then settled beside her. He loosened his hold on her hand, but she still held his tightly. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, and shifted so that his body was more angled towards hers, his other arm held out loosely. She shook her head, sobbing wetly now, and Emmett nodded and relaxed his arm.
“Do you want to go home?” he asked after a few minutes, when the sobs had started to fade. She shook her head. “Do you want me to get anyone else?” She shook her head again, more fiercely this time, and clamped down at his hand. He offered her a small smile. “I’m not leaving as long as you want me here,” he promised, and some of the tension in her shoulders faded.
“I just…” he had to strain to hear her whisper. “He said I must only be here because…”
“You’re here because you’re a freaking genius and one of the kindest and bravest people I know,” Emmett said firmly.
Elle shook her head. “I’m not brave.”
“Elle, you challenged one of the most influential lawyers in this state to stand up for what you knew was right, for yourself and for Brooke. And you won. Anyone who thinks you don’t belong here just hasn’t done their homework.”
She sniffed. “But I can’t do that again. Not if I can’t even manage a party.”
“Nobody can touch you like that in a courtroom,” Emmett pointed out gently. “Nobody would even be able to get close, and if they did they’d be so out of line that the judge wouldn’t begrudge you taking a recess to recover.”
She shrugged, not looking at him, and he sighed. “You’ll beat this,” he said quietly. “You’ll beat this like you’ve beaten every other obstacle that’s gotten in your way. It’s just going to take a little time.”
“It’s been months,” Elle sniffed. “It didn’t even take me this long to get over Warner, it shouldn’t be taking me longer to get over someone whom I didn’t even…”
“There’s no ‘should’ about it,” Emmett said firmly. “Just because he hurt you differently doesn’t mean he hurt you less, or that your healing will look the same.”
“But I’m not healing, I’m just..”
“You are,” Emmett insisted. “You used to flinch anytime someone flirted with you, and now it’s just if they’re physical, or don’t back off when you ask.”
“I didn’t flinch when you flirted with me.”
“That’s only because I’m so bad at it, I’m sure.”
A smile flitted across Elle’s face. “You’re not bad at it,” she said. “You’re so much better than…than…” She began to tremble again, and this time when Emmett lifted his arm she scooted under it, clinging to him.
He held her, rubbing her shoulders gently as she sobbed into his chest. “Hey,” he whispered into her hair. “It’s going to be alright.”
After a few minutes she quieted again, then sniffed. “I’m sorry,” she began. “I don’t know why--”
“Elle.”
She froze, shrinking into herself again, though she didn’t push him away.
He tilted her face up gently, brushing his thumb across her cheek. He wanted to tell her to stop blaming herself again, wanted to hold her until she wasn’t scared anymore and she could see just how amazing she was, wanted to see that face lively and fighting and full of joy again, but those things weren’t working, and he didn’t know how else…“Elle,” he said suddenly. “Did you do the reading for Wednesday?”
Her brow furrowed, some of her distress melting away to be replaced by confusion. “Of course,” she said, and Emmett felt his breath hitch as a thread of confidence returned to her voice. “Tilden v Fawcett and its validity as a precedent or lack thereof, examined by Judge Goshaw in the appellate case of Carraway v Dalton.”
“What did you think of Goshaw’s ruling?” Emmett asked.
“She was right,” Elle said. “Despite the superficial similarities between the cases, the underlying circumstances were too different for Tilden v Fawcett to serve as a reasonable precedent in the initial ruling.” She slumped. “I know what you’re doing,” she said. “I know I’m good at this stuff, on paper, it’s just that it won’t matter if I can’t--”
“You are good at this,” Emmett interrupted. “And it does matter, but that’s not what I’m doing. Elle, you’re casting a verdict on yourself using a precedent that doesn’t reasonably apply.”
Elle froze, blinking slowly at him.
He ran his hand down her arm, taking her hand. “Will you consider remanding the verdict?”
She squeezed his hand and nodded. “If you’ll stay on as my counsel?”
For the first time since Emmett had pulled her away from the drunkard, there was hope in her face, and Emmett’s heart soared to see it. “Of course I will,” he said.
She took a deep breath, her shoulders straightening, and she stood, though she still clung tightly to his hand.
Emmett smiled as he rose with her. “Ready to go home?” he asked.
“No,” Elle said. “I’m ready to go back.”
Emmett could still feel her trembling, but her steps became surer as she led him back towards the party, and he could see the chip lodging itself back on her shoulder, and he knew, even if it still took some time, she’d find her way.