I do not own The Outsiders

The courtroom was stifling hot. Sweat poured down Darrel Curtis's forehead. He glanced at his younger brother fiddling with his shirt collar. "Let it alone Soda." Sodapop nodded gloomily. He turned his head in the other direction. Johnny had pulled his chair up by the bench. His hair was unusually neat and clean cut. His mother had even bought him a new dress shirt. In the row just behind they were their other friends, all dressed unusually nice for hoodlums, the exception being Dallas but Darry had not expected much there.

He watched as some police lead the six boys who had changed their lives forever into the courtroom. He felt his blood boil. Though he shared their guilt hot hatred filled him up. These boys were why Johnny is a wheelchair. These boys were the reason Pony didn't even recognize his own name, would never read again, never run again.

Soda immediately made a move to grab his wrist. Darry noticed the scowl on his face. It didn't fit Soda, not at all.

The bailiff spoke."All rise for the honorable Judge Jackson."

Darry felt his body stand but he didn't remember even willing them to do so. "You may be seated." And just like that he was sitting.

"We are today December 10th 1966 to decide whether or not Robert Sheldon, Randle Anderson, David Hancock, Samuel Pettis and Roger Donaldson are guilty on two counts attempted murder, two counts assaults, one count underage drinking and one count drunken disorderly conduct. We will begin with opening arguments for the prosecution."

A man and a suit stepped up. Darry remembered conversations with him but he really didn't want to, too painful.

"A sixteen year old boy will never walk again, never run again. A fourteen year old boy, a fourteen year old boy will never be able to fend for himself again, a fourteen year old boy who can not feed himself, dress himself, run, walk or talk again. It is the prosecution's aim to prove with out a shadow of a doubt that the defense willfully followed these boys to Hawthorne Park with the aims of assault."

"And now for the defense."

If the defense lawyer talked neither brother heard it. Darry was to preoccupied with what the prosecutor had said. All that Pony never would ne, never would do. And Johnny hitting Pony had lead to Johnny's paralysis. He was consumed with guilt.

Sodapop Curtis was too angry. How dare that man say those guys were innocent. How dare he paint them as example citizens and Pony and Johnny as little hoods. How dare he say this wasn't purposeful. How dare he say these boys deserved mercy? Soda gritted his teeth.

And for his part Johnny Cade didn't know what to think. He half expected it to be like one of those Perry Mason shows that Ponyboy had always been nuts about. Thinking of Ponyboy made him sad. It wasn't right that Ponyboy would never, never be Ponyboy again.

It wasn't fair at all that he would never walk, even if home was better. He sighed. He felt very out of place. On TV lawyers were tuff, hard and mean. While this fit the defense, he was snobbish and pretty scary. He had Johnny not knowing what way was up. But everything else was so, so unexciting.

Although he felt sick when Darry and Soda took the witness stand. Darry had cried, big strong tough Darry, Superman, had cried. And Soda had never been so pale. He was shivering. He looked as sick as Johnny felt.

Steve Randle had never met Bob Sheldon before. He knew him by reputation of course. Captain of the baseball team, varsity basketball player, dated a cheerleader, threw wild parties and had the ego the size of the football field.

By virtue of this alone Steve did not like him. And to find out, as he did when Johnny took the stand, that he had not only lead the attack on the gangs poet and the kid, but was the one who gave Johnny the scar, made Steve hate him more. If there was one thing Steve had found he was at least as good at as he was with cars it was hatred. Although he knew perfectly well he had nothing to proud of there.

This was a bunch of bull according to Dallas. Of course they were guilty. What kind of guy didn't have the guts to take on a fourteen year old kid by himself. How many jocks did it take to beat up a couple of kids anyways? They'd get off easy, Dallas knew. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair. But the hard cold truth was Dallas Winston's specialty and that was the hard cold truth.

Then there was that Anderson guy, none of the boys was sure what to think of him. He was the reason the boys were alive, he had remorse. But he and done the crime. If he had run away Pony wouldn't be suffering, but they wouldn't have him or Johnny. And he was sorry, truly sorry.

But it didn't matter, not really. What was done was done. And there in lied the contradiction.

"Court will adjourn for the jury's deliberation. "

Sodapop sighed impatiently, Dallas grunted, Steve scowled and Dallas stormed out. Johnny stayed characteristically quiet. One thing was on everybody's minds, the verdict. Would they catch a break for once in their lives? Would justice win out? And especially for the Curtis brothers would it bring closer?

Was there any way this verdict could make them feel at peace. Or would it just stand as another reminder of what they had lost?

Darry shot his brother a glance. Soda tried to smile instead of the awkward grimace adorning his face but he couldn't even manage that. Two-Bit Matthews stood up. He could not take it anymore.

There was too much emotion in the room, too much left unsaid. He hated things like this. But most of all he hated himself, for not making sure Pony got home, for offering to get the girls home. If he had just left well enough alone things would be okay. "Me and my big mouth."

Verdict will come soon. I promise. I've been working hard as of late and all though I have the plan for this story in my head the execution is much harder. Its like reading a map upside down while talking on a cell phone, you get the basic idea but not the whole picture.