Not edited- Sorry v-v

Kira dressed me in clothes relative to the ones I wore to my familie's funeral. It was New Year's Eve, and instead of drinking beer in the living room with my so called family and watching the ball drop on television, I was on my way to a trial that may or may not result in the freedom of a murderer.

The judge had agreed to move the trial to London, so we wouldn't have to go to Ireland during the holidays. I should've been thankful, but in all honesty, I felt as I would pass out. "I can't do this," I whispered to Kira, swallowing hard as she zipped up the back.

"As a wise man once said, 'You can do it, yes you can.'"

I groaned. "Now is not the time for Bob The Builder, Kira." She chuckled, tossing me a pair of flats.

"You want to look as sweet and innocent as possible for the judge. Nobody wants to give power to a whore."

I nodded, slipping on the shoes and glancing at myself in the mirror. The dress Kira gave me stopped short of my knees, the smooth onyx not skin tight but not too loose. It tightened at my waist and opened up again at my chest, the straps the width of two of my fingers. It fit perfectly, which was strange because Kira was so much taller than me.

"I wear that clubbing," She explained airily. "That goes up to my thigh."

Not saying anything, I ran a hand through my pale blonde hair and pinned it up behind my head into a loose bun. Luna peeked her head in the doorway, sending us a small smile. She wore a red Santa hat, a bottle of half-drunk wine in her hands.

"Good luck, sweetie," she hiccuped. "We'll all be here waiting for you guys to get-" She let out another hiccup, holding her chest to stop. "Back. But remember, whatever happens, I love you."

A car horn beeped, and I rolled my eyes. Gabriel had a tendency lately to just beep his horn when he was outside instead of greeting Luna and whoever else was inside. They had gone cold on each other for some reason, and nobody would tell me why.

"That's Gabriel," I muttered, smiling tightly at Kira. "I'll be back at midnight."

She nodded. "Good luck, babe," She pecked my cheek, and pushed me into Luna's embrace. Sam, also drunk and wearing a Santa hat, tried to give me a hug which I blatantly refused. I pulled on a coat, zipping it up tightly and putting my hands in my pockets to stop the cold December air from seeping through my clothes.

His car, a usual struggle to get into, was heated and warmed me immediately. I tried not to check him out the entire ride there because of how he must be feeling, but it was almost impossible not to. I'd never seen him in a suit before, and in all honesty, I wanted to super glue it onto him for the rest of his life.

"Like what you see?" His attempt at flirting was weak, as he was visibly shaking and there was only a ghost of a smile on his paled face.

I stayed silent, swallowing and reaching over to grip his hand. That was a huge improvement for me in the relationship department, as I never, ever made the first move. But Gabriel was different, it seemed. It was a natural move for me now to touch him somehow; if only on the arm or his fingertips, it didn't matter.

I was addicted to his touch, that was for sure. "It's okay," he murmured. "I'm okay."

I shook my head. "Alright. . ." I muttered, not even hiding the fact I didn't believe him, and looked out the window as we drove into the court house.

It was packed, which was strange. All the defenders or offenders would be in Ireland, right? There was no way they'd come all the way to London just to see this trial, would they?

We got out, and for once Gabriel didn't help me. I tried my best not to look irritated, as I felt guilty for the feeling when he was so obviously so stressed out he didn't think to help me down. He held the door open as we walked inside, heading up to the front desk.

He was visibly shaking. "I'm Gabriel Hawthorne, I need to know which room to-"

"Court 2, left stand." She answered in a dull tone. He nodded, and started to head towards the hall. In a quick change of tune, I took his hand, pulling him into a bathroom nearby. The lights were overbearingly bright, reflecting off the white tile flooring and exposing the seemingly darker bags under his eyes.

"Gabriel," I tried to make myself taller than him, but it was impossible, so I just stood on my tiptoes and used the best stern tone I could. "It's going to be alright. You're going to win this case."

He ran a hand through his hair, blue eyes clouded as he looked away. "It's not that." His voice was quiet. "Well, it isn't all of it."

I sat down on the sink, getting tired of balancing, and tugged him so he was standing in front of my knees. "What is it, then?" I allowed my hands to brush a piece of hair out of his eyes, noticing how long it was getting.

He bit his lower lip, toying with it for a moment before glancing back at me. "I haven't seen him in two years, Alexxa. I don't want to see him again. I thought I'd never have to again. . . " He stopped, letting out a sigh. "You don't understand, you wouldn't be able to know how it feels."

I shook my head. "I've lost people. . . You know that." He nodded, giving me an apologetic look. "You can win this," I said quietly.

He swallowed, hard. "Where's Elise?"

I lowered my eyes. "I thought it would be better if she stayed home tonight."

With a nod, he ran his hand through his dark brown hair. "Let's go."

I followed him into the court hesitantly, not feeling well all of a sudden. What if he was right? What if we lost this case, and his father was allowed into society? Would he kill Gabriel for not supporting him in court?

He suddenly stiffened and stopped in his place. I squeezed his hand, following his gaze and almost gasping at how much the two resembled each other. His father had dark brown hair, the shade of leather, and blue eyes. They stood the same, but there was one major difference. While Gabriel's eyes were warm, his were ice cold.

"Would you please go to the stand, Mr. Hawthorne?" The judge called out, an annoyed ring in his tone.

The room went silent, heads turning our way. Gabriel snapped out of whatever trance he was in, keeping his head high and leading us to the stand. I stayed silent, letting him pull me behind the chesnut desk.

"Hello Judge," his voice was confident, as if he hadn't had a panic attack only moments before.

The judge nodded, and Gabriel's father turned to face him. "Son," he gave him a wide lipped smile, exposing crooked teeth. "How lovely to see you." Gabriel went rigid, breath catching in his throat. I squeezed his hand again, bringing him back to reality after a moment, and forced a small smile on my face.

I wasn't used to being strong for someone else. I was used to being strong for myself, so nobody would pity me like they did in the asylum. I would shut out everyone, and that, I realized, was selfish. Others needed me too, but I was too lost in my own pit of depression.

And now, seeing Gabriel's reaction to his own father, I knew I had to change that.

"Mr. Hawthorne, if you could refrain from making comments before and after the trial," the judge remarked at Gabriel's father.

He just rolled his cold blue eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

It was clear this man was crazy. Why would they be giving him a trial?

The judge gave the ceiling a strained look. "And is Miss Ward here for defense, or moral support?"

I spoke up, having to say it twice because the first time was so quiet. "Moral support, sir."

He nodded. "Take your stand."

We stood behind the desk, Gabriel's warm hand leaving mine. I understood completely- This was a formal event, not a party- but I still missed it nonetheless.

The judge droned on about the court case number, and the jury, until he came upon the real reason we were all here. "This retrial, on behalf of murder in the first degree, rape in one count, and necrophelia on one count towards Lillian Connors-Hawthorne, on the seventeenth of January, 2010, preformed by Daryl Hawthorne. Last trial was under misconduct, on the thirty first of May, 2010."

We stayed silent, postures straight. "What do you plead, Mr. Hawthorne?"

He leaned forward, leering. "Innocent." He spat into the microphone.

"Are you representing alone, or do you have a lawyer?"

"The court has provided me one."

He nodded dimly, looking at the balding man next to Daryl. "Mr. Hawthorne, I suspect you have no lawyer?"

Gabriel leaned forward into the microphone, hands shaking. "No, your honor." The words 'your honor' coming from his mouth sounded foreign, as he never addressed anyone formally. I shrugged it off and discreetly moved closer to him, trying to give him comfort even though we couldn't touch.

I couldn't screw this one up.

"Let's get on with it, then." With a pause, he picked up a folder and filed through it before reading off it in a bored tone. "On the seventeenth of January, 2010, Mrs. Malachy McKinley called the authorities after hearing multiple screams on 216 Water Street, Dublin, Ireland. Authorities found Daryl Hawthorne, defendant, covered in Lillian Connors-Hawthorne's vital fluids, holding this-" He hung up a bag, where a knife, now rusted over, sat inside. Gabriel cringed, swallowing hard and trying to keep his composure.

I couldn't stand it. Rules were meant to be broken, right? My hand found his once more and he relaxed just a little bit, sending me a look that made me want to cry. "- in his right hand. The victim, Lillian Connors-Hawthorne, had twenty-seven stab wounds to her chest, neck, and forehead, and had been raped twice."

My blood ran cold. "Authorites found Gabriel Hawthorne, victim's son, barricaded into Lillian Connors-Hawthorne's bedroom, tied to a bedpost under the influence with a stab wound to his neck. Elise Hawthorne, youngest daughter of Lillian and Daryl, was allegedly at Maria Harrigan's home in South Dublin."

Oh, my god.

Gabriel was locked in a bedroom, unable to help his mother. He must have heard her screams, the sound of his father's maniacal laughter. He had to have heard everything, but was locked in. I looked up in horror at Gabriel, but he revealed no emotion. I now knew why he had his scar, the one located right above his collarbone and that must haunt him daily.

How could he be so strong?

"Mr. Daryl Hawthorne was sent to Kilmainham Gaol prison in Dublin, Ireland, for four months, until his trial in May 2010, where he was charged as guilty for murder in the first degree, rape on one count, and necrophilia on one count. The charges included two life sentences with no chance of parole, with a twenty thousand dollar fee.

Unfortunately, Mr. Gabriel Hawthorne's past lawyer had preformed a certain misconduct, leading to the retrial on the thirty first of December, 2013." He finished it up with a sigh.

I slowly released my hand from his, biting back pathetic tears. He had gone through so much that he hadn't told me, and all this time he was strong. What happened to him was worse than what occurred to me, and yet I wasn't even close to being who I was before.

He seemed so happy, carefree. I was sheltered and quiet. While he was open with his past to me, I was distrustful. All he knew was that my parents were dead. I felt so terrible for not opening up to this boy.

It was then I decided I would tell him.

"Gabriel," I whispered as the judge asked Daryl questions. He didn't turn to me, but I could tell he could hear me. "I know this is a bad time, but I really need to tell you something-"

He cut me off in a low hiss. "Lexxa, not now. . . Tell me after the trial, okay?"

"I-I can't," I protested meekly, feeling my barriers start to come up again as he refused. "It's really-"

"Is there something you'd like to share, Miss Ward?"

I, shocked, snapped my head up to face the judge. "N-no, your honor." I managed, silencing.

He gave me a warning look before turning to us. "Mr. Hawthorne, if you could share that night with us in your own words."

Gabriel bit the inside of his cheek faintly. I kept my breathing even, not watching him for fear i'd break down as he told the story. Instead of showing any sign of emotions towards his question, he just nodded curtly and spoke.

"Daryl and I had gone to a pub, the Irishman, I believe." As he started, I could hear some of his accent protruding from it's english cover up. "We got drunk-no, more than drunk. To the point where he started yelling about how angry he was at mu- Lillian," he corrected himself, and I felt a pang in my chest. "for allegedly cheating on him."

"And did she, in fact, have relations with another man?" The judge questioned.

"Of course she did!" Daryl hissed angrily.

The judge glared at him just as Gabriel responded. "No, your honor. Not that I know of."

"You may continue."

"I tried to stop him from going home, but I was drunk, also. There was no way I could fight him off. When I tried to get him off of Lillian, he took out a knife and stabbed me." Nobody gasped like in a cliche movie, but I could see the horror on some of the jury's faces. "It hit a major artery, but I survived. I remember him pushing me into Lillian's bedroom and tying me to her bedpost, the bottom left one.

"He locked me in and pushed a bookcase over the door. I heard her-" He paused for a second, clearing his throat and averting his eyes from everyone. "I heard her yelling, and crying, but then it all went quiet."

"Is that all?" I could hear the sudden emotion in the Judge's voice, although he tried to conceal it behind a expressionless mask.

Gabriel nodded.

"Would you like to interrogate, or should we get on with the jury's ruling?"

"I feel no need to interrogate," he said quietly.

The judge stood from his chair, waving a hand. "You are dismissed." He told the jury.

We sat down in the chairs, a look of relief washing over his face. "It's over," he whispered, taking a deep breath.

I smiled, but it was forced. "You did amazing."

Unconciously, he ran his hand over his scar. "It was harder than I thought."

Without thinking, I embraced him. He didn't do anything for a moment, stiff, but then I felt arms snake around my back to pull me closer. "Why do you feel so shocked?" I asked, voice muffled from his clothing.

He laughed, the sound making me shiver. "This is the first time you've hugged me willingly."

I grinned. "There's a first time for everything."

The doors suddenly opened, all nine of the jury members returning. We both froze, pulling apart and standing with mirroring looks of anxiety. "Have you reached your decision?" The judge asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

One of the men stood up from their chairs. "In a 7-2 vote, we have decided Mr. Daryl Hawthorne should be executed as soon as possible."

I felt Gabriel turn to me after a few seconds of shock. The room echoed the sounds of clapping from the audience, the judge slamming his gavel down, and the angry groan Daryl emitted while being dragged out. But instead of taking it all in, all I could focus on was the look in his eyes.

The moment dragged on for what felt like hours, until in one fateful, heart stopping second, I was pushed into Gabriel's kiss.

-----

It. Finally. Happened.

Do I get 10 votes because I worked really hard on this chapter and they KISSED?

...*puppy eyes*

Sorry this is such a late update, I just got back from the beacccch!

xxx