AN: I don't care if this is an accurate depiction of a criminal case, and I don't care what you think about boys who date boys, or boys who date girls who look like boys... I just care about my inability to stop crying. It's been five hours since I watched the ending to Boy Crazy; For the second time. And I'm still bawling my eyes out.
Two police officers lead a teary eyed Dom Barron into the court room, setting him down in the defendant's chair. His only movement was a solemn nod to Archie Randall.
"Defendant Dom Barron, you stand accused of the voluntary manslaughter of Sam Randall; how do you plead?" The judge, a man Dom thought might possibly be older than he was, asked, his eyes looking kinder than should be allotted. Dom bowed his head.
"Not guilty, your honor." The jury mummered amongst each other, and Dom almost smirked through the tears.
'They all care about her now.' He stepped around the Defendant's table, his lawyer staring all the while. Dom Barron would always be the bad boy. His lawyer just had to learn that. "I didn't kill Sam Randall." He said in a loud clear voice. "Sam," his voice broke now, tears pouring down his face. "Sam was already dead. She died in that hospital; I killed Samantha, the person they turned her into." He bowed his head, defiance leaving his eyes, left only sorrowful tears. The court stared about in awe as the man broke down, his body shaking, not caring who saw him cry.
"Mr. Barron, would you please sit down." The judge said firmly, sympathy for the man welling in his heart. Dom answered only with a sob. The prosecutor, a newbie itching to convict his first murderer, took his chance.
"If the defendant rests, may I call my first witness?" The boy asked, making it difficult for the judge not to chuckle. This case was quickly going to Hell in a hand-basket. 'That's why you chose it.' A voice reminded him.
"I suppose so, Mr. Ray, why not." He said, waving his hand. The boy attempted to smirk, look coy, but it seemed to only be a small, sad smile, as he turned towards Dom Barron.
"The state calls Dom Barron to the stand." Dom didn't flinch. He just slowly approached the witness' chair, plopping into it, his eyes never going dry, his cuffed hands not hiding the tears, not like he was trying to. Dom looked up at the prosecutor, feeling sorry for the man.
"You previously admitted to the murder of Sam Randall, and now you revoke it? I'd like to ask you why, Mr. Barron, but I doubt the court is even remotely interested." That wasn't true, he, and the court, were both very interested in what Dom was playing at. Then again, so was Dom. "However, I will ask you this, were you or were you not with Samantha on the night of her murder?" District Attorney, David Ray, asked Dom. Dom sobbed again.
"I told you already, I killed her, I killed Samantha, it's Sam I didn't kill!" He said it fiercely, the tears suddenly becoming too overwhelming. He layed his head down, hands clinging to the side of the desk, sobs racking his body, following one after the other, no longer willing to stay in. His sobs practically turned to screams, the pain in his heart stabbing each time he took a breath. The court suddenly became anxious, mummering and whispering.
Dom, along with every one else in the room, looked up as the door to the court room opened. A small, skinny little boy walked in, a grin on his face that would always go unrivaled. Archie Randall burst into silent, fearful tears from his smirk, the judge and the rest of the court simply stared, mouths opened. The only person in the entire court that made any sound was Dom Barron, crying slowly giving way to laughing.
"Man, am I really not the only one seeing this?" Dom asked the air, staring into Sam's eyes.
"Nah, you're just the only one who'll believe it." She said, smiling and kissing him softly. He kissed back, giving her a funny look after pulling away.
"Sam, you're dead. I mean, yeah I believe in miracles, but couldn't you have picked a better time? I thought ghost were supposed to be secretive." He said smiling, unable to wait to hear her explanation. She laughed, running a hand through her hair.
"Haha, since when have I ever done whats expected?" She said through tears, hugging Dom close to her. He kissed her cheek.
"You've got a very good point." He looked out at the horrified court, their eyes watching their every move. "But, really man, what-how is this even possible?" He held her head back, looking in her eyes. He'd missed her eyes, he'd never been able to paint them. Sam mad a small noise in the back of her throat, smile falling to a smaller, guiltier, sadder one.
"Uh, You, you remember our tree, Dom?" She asked, chewing her lip.
"Yeah, of course."
"Remember, um, 'Always be free, or die trying'." She asked with a laugh, a small one, not covering up the guilt, just accenting her smile. Dom looked at her funny, narrowing her eyes, tracing her lips.
"Yeah, man, I killed because of that, but what does it have to do with-" Sam pointed behind him. The sixteen year old turned around, confusion slowly leaving his eyes. It was his turn to run a hand through his blonde hair. "Oh." He said softly, turning back to Sam, a small smile perched on his lips. "How?" He barley sounded it out before she raised a pillow up, her unrivaled grin coming back full force. He shook his head, a laugh choking out.
"Hey man, check this out!" Sam shouted, laughing as she took the handcuffs off his dead body.
"Sam, what are you doing?" He asked tilting his head.
"Eh, just pissing people off, as always." She said smiling and fully hugging him, the pair stepping off of the Witness' Chair and walking to the door. Dom ran his hand through Sam's hair.
"So I guess Heaven's real, huh?" He asked nonchalantly. Sam looked at him.
"Uh, I wouldn't know, I've been hanging out here all this time." She said, opening the door to reveal 1963. Dom grinned, shaking his head.
"So that's where my car got to."
Sam laughed.
The court stared on as Dom Barron froze, his sobbing suddenly stopping.
"Mr. Barron?" Dave said loudly, looking at the defendant. He approached the chair cautiously, not knowing what to expect. "Mr-" He trailed off, looking to the judge for advice. "He-He's dead." he said softly, squinting as his suit jacket brushed against metal. He picked up the handcuffs, taking a piece of paper off of the chain. "How the hell?" He spluttered, hands shaking. The judge turned and looked at the attorney.
"What does it say?" He asked, his, and the court's, curiosity beyond peaked. The man shook.
"It's not even possible-It- His hands, he never moved them.. they're still holding the...the! I... It says-" He gulped and read the note aloud to the court.
'Always be free, or die trying.'