Chapter 24: How Does the Jury Find?

The fated week came. The Jones family and Kiku were dressed appropriately as they sat in the courtroom. Alfred's stomach felt like a maelstrom as the jury was seated. Matthew tried not to glare at the reporters at the back of the room. Both brothers tensed up when they saw Louis and his lawyer sit down. Kiku glanced at them, and was a little frightened at their angry expressions. Both of them had their hands in their laps, but they curled into fists, their nails digging into their palms. He was afraid they would start to bleed.

The courtroom chatter died down as the trial began. Alfred sighed deeply as the defense lawyer and prosecutor made their opening statements. The jury's attention was immersed in their words, watching as the two paced around the room when it was their turn to speak. The American looked to the row at the very front where the main witnesses—the victims—stood seated. Manuel watched the ground absentmindedly; he sat next to the other survivors who were all equally nervous in their seats. Their parents were seated in the row behind them, and Antonio joined them as well. He put a hand on Manuel's shoulder, and squeezed it reassuringly.

Every seat was occupied in the room. Alfred glanced behind him and saw some of his friends seated in their best attire, looking to the front of the courtroom, listening intently to the opening statements. He wondered what they were feeling at the moment. He knew that every single one of his friends were not native to the country, and he could not even imagine the possible rage they were all feeling on the inside. To know that there were people like Louis who sought them out to cause them harm simply because they were immigrants… Alfred was too afraid to ask any of them; his shame and wrath grew whenever he looked at Louis, the man who dared to call himself his and Matthew's father.

He felt a hand on his arm and looked down at Kiku, who nodded. He whispered, "It will be alright, Alfred-san. I'm positive justice will be served for Manuel-san, and the other teenagers." All he could do in response was nod.

"Call your first witness," the judge said, putting her glasses on. Alfred gave a shaky breath as he saw Manuel walk up first and swear on the Bible that he would speak only the truth. Emily looked sympathetically at the Sanchez family and Antonio as they sat anxiously in their seats, hoping Manuel would not let his temper get the better of him. Antonio looked at Louis, who sat with a smug grin, although he looked worn out, and even a little pale than from what he remembered. He wished he would have smacked him around back in July, but only recently realized it would be detrimental to the case of the victims. He sighed, and focused his attention on his friend up in the witness chair.

"Mr. Sanchez," the prosecutor began. "What is your current age?"

"I'm seventeen."

"And you were how old when you were molested?"

"I was seven."

"Seven; just an innocent child." The prosecutor paced, glancing at the jury as she folded her hands. "You were molested at the park, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Tell us what happened that day."

"Well, my mom, my friend, and myself… we got back from shopping. It was a nice day outside, so she took us to the park to play. My friend, Antonio, wanted to play in the sand box, so we did. Then a while later, my mom's friend came to meet her at the park with her sons, Feliciano and Lovino. They're our friends too, so they started playing with us in the sand. Lovino and I had a… disagreement with a sand castle, so we started fighting and I walked away because I was really mad. The park where we went to has a lot of trees, so I guess I must have walked in there out of rage. I just... wanted to get away from them because I didn't wanna get punished when I got home. Then as I was mumbling to myself, this man came up to me and starting talking to me. He asked what was wrong so I told him, and then he said he would tell me a secret, but only if I found a marble under the leaves. So I searched for it and then he started… er…" He took a brief pause. "Y'know, petting my hair, and telling me how cute I was. I was starting to get freaked out, so I tried to leave, but then he grabbed me and…" He took a breath and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. His eyebrows scrunched together. "…and that's when he started to rape me."

"And the man that did this to you, is he here today in the courtroom?"

"Yes." He opened his eyes again, glaring. "That's him." Manuel pointed toward Louis, who just watched with a smirk.

"Let the record show that the witness has identified the defendant, Louis D. Williams." The prosecutor turned back to Manuel. "Thank you, Mr. Sanchez." She sat back down and began to take notes, papers spread out on her table. The defense lawyer walked up to Manuel, and began to speak.

"So you were seven when this happened, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And your country of origin is where, exactly?"

"Objection your honor," the prosecutor said. "Relevance?"

"Your honor," the defense lawyer said. "I am establishing the victim's country of origin. If the prosecution claims that my client specifically sought out children from foreign countries, then it's important that all the victims' original homelands are established."

The judge looked to the prosecutor, and then the defense lawyer. "I'll allow it, but watch your line of questioning."

He nodded to her, and then turned back to Manuel who was growing knots in his stomach. "Again, Mr. Sanchez, where were you born, originally?"

"Mexico."

"And how long has your family lived in the United States?"

"I don't know? I guess for over ten years? I came here when I was four. I'm seventeen now, like I said."

"So are you a legal U.S. citizen?"

"Objection your honor!"

"Withdrawn." He strode around the room, a hand in his pocket. "Let's go to the day you were molested. You were at the park, correct?"

"Uh, yeah. It was a shopping day, and it was still daylight outside, so we went to the park close by. It was hot that day, so we didn't want to get on the slides or swings. We played in the sand instead, building sandcastles and stuff."

"So, Mr. Williams was nowhere near you, correct?"

Manuel looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "I wouldn't know that, because I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. I was busy making a sandcastle."

"But you identified Mr. Williams as your molester."

"Yeah, 'cause he was."

"But you didn't see him at the park."

"…Well, no, I didn't, but—"

"So then you can't be sure it was him."

Antonio shook his head slowly as he noticed Manuel began to tense up. Stay calm Manny. Don't let your temper win over you…

Manuel sighed, attempting to regain his composure. "I am sure it was him. I would never forget the face of the man who raped me, you know."

"But didn't you say," The lawyer walked to his desk, and picked up his notepad, "to the police that you wanted to 'ignore it and move on'? And that you refused therapy or any sort of aide, and only recently started going?"

"Hey—"

"Yes or no, Mr. Sanchez?"

"…Yes."

"So then you were completely fine with ignoring it and moving on with your life?"

"No—"

"No? You just said yes, Mr. Sanchez. Are you contradicting yourself now?"

"No—!"

"You have a bit of a temper problem, don't you Mr. Sanchez?"

"What does that have to do with any—"

"You were prone to tantrums when you didn't get your way, especially around your friend, Antonio. Is that correct?"

"Where are you getting this—"

"You were prone to tantrums and you have anger issues, do you not Mr. Sanchez?"

"Objection!" the prosecutor shouted. The judge nodded. "Sustained."

The defense lawyer put down his notepad on the table. "The day at the park… at first you were playing with your friend Antonio, yes? And then two other friends joined you a while later?"

"Yes."

"How's your relationship with them?"

"Well they're my friends, so I think that right there should tell you what I think of them. My relationship is dandy."

"Are you sure? Because it's common knowledge within your social circle that you despised the older brother, Lovino, correct?"

Manuel looked at him quizzically, pausing before asking, "Wait wait, what does me liking anybody have to even do with the fact that—where are you even getting this sort of information—?! I don't despise him! Yeah we argue sometimes but—"

The defense lawyer looked at his notepad again. "You despised him because Antonio liked him more, correct? And then you went into a tantrum and walked away after kicking sand in his face?" He looked to Manuel and walked toward him as he spoke. "You had a tantrum because you didn't get your way and therefore the attention that you wanted? So could it be possible that when you walked into that forest you made up the whole scenario about my client molesting you so you could get the sympathies of your friend and anybody else who dared to not put you in the limelight?"

"NO! I would never make any of that up! What kind of sick bastard would make up lies like that?!"

"Language, Mr. Sanchez," the judge said, looking at him through the top of her glasses. Manuel sat up straight, looking the defense lawyer in the eyes. "I wouldn't lie about being raped. No moralistic person would."

"Tell me, Mr. Sanchez, why you didn't do anything about this incident?"

"The police were on the case and there was nothing I could do, so I let it go—"

"And you're just now pressing charges?"

"No! I told you the police were on it! I didn't know who he was—"

"You said—"

"Let me FINISH!" he nearly shouted, his hands gripping the top of the witness box. "You keep trying to twist my words but I SWEAR that I'm not lying about anything! I didn't want attention, and certainly not to that degree! I was traumatized for so long, don't you know?! Or are you too immoral and too much of an attention whore to defend such a disgusting person that you don't mind lining your pockets with blood-money trying to prove this rapist innocent?!" He shot out of his seat, enraged. "¡Eres un desgraciado como ese maldito hombre!"

The judge banged her gavel loudly. "Mr. Sanchez! Your language! I will not ask you again! Sit. Down!" Manuel's parents fidgeted, while Antonio covered his face with his hands. The defense lawyer looked to the judge and said, "No more questions your honor." He sat back down, and the prosecutor walked back up. Manuel inwardly beat himself, knowing he messed up an already delicate case, wishing he could take it all back. The prosecutor approached him again.

"Mr. Sanchez," she began. "You said you were traumatized. To what degree?"

He took a breath, and said, "For a while, I would have nightmares. Then I just… forced myself to forget, but whenever somebody hugged me or touched me—er, well at least guys, I would get… more than a little nervous, so I didn't like anybody touching me, unless I said it was okay. It was fine for a while since I kept repeating to myself to 'get over it' and to just 'move on' or 'what's done is done'. I told… I told my friends last year what happened, and it reawakened all of that stuff."

She nodded. "You told the police that the defendant stalked you at a trip to the zoo this past summer, is that correct?"

"Yeah. I don't know if he did it coincidentally or not but… I was drawing some birds in the aviary, when I saw him. He started talking to me, and at first I didn't recognize him, but the longer I looked at his face, the colder the chill ran down my spine."

"What happened after that?"

"I tried to avoid him. The zoo was a big place, so I went with friends to different habitats, but then I saw him in the panda one. I thought I was just being paranoid, so I let it go once we were on the school bus home. But then in July, my friends had a birthday party and in the night, that… man came to the house. He saw me and… that's when I knew it was him. It was the same man who molested me when I was little, and I was so scared… I just…" He paused. "I ran up the stairs and hid myself because I just couldn't see him. And when I found out he was the father of my friends I just… lost it and started crying. He followed me home. He followed the school bus from the zoo, to my neighborhood. And what he said when he saw me… 'You still haven't found the marble under the leaves'… I can recognize that voice anywhere."

The prosecutor nodded again, and then looked at the judge. "No further questions."

Manuel was dismissed and sat back down. He whispered an, "I'm sorry…" to the teenagers he sat next to, and hung his head as Antonio was called up next.

"Mr. Fernandez, what is your relationship with Mr. Sanchez?" asked the prosecutor.

"I'm his friend. But we were so close that people would mistake us for relatives."

"What happened that day at the park?"

"It's as Manny—Mr. Sanchez—said. He got mad when our friend Lovino had a disagreement with a sand castle we were building, so he stormed off into the denser part of the park. I was still playing with Lovino and his brother Feliciano, so I didn't know what was happening. But he didn't come back after a while, so I started to get worried. I'm the oldest of us four, you see, and Manny is the youngest so I went to go and find him but then I found… that man on top of him doing… y-you know… those things to him."

"What things, exactly?"

"You know, sexually assaulting him."

"What did you do?"

"I was little, so I didn't know what exactly was going on, but I saw him crying and he turned his head to look at me, and so did the man. So I panicked, and I ran and grabbed my other two friends. I dragged them with me to their mother and I started telling Mrs. Sanchez what I saw. But by the time the police came it was… too late." He glanced at Manuel, who stood poker faced.

"Can you please identify to the jury the man you saw that day?"

Antonio pointed to Louis. "That's him; I would never forget that face."

"Let the record show that the second witness has also identified the defendant, Mr. Louis D. Williams." She adjusted her glasses and turned to Antonio. "Thank you, Mr. Fernandez." She sat down back at her table, and the defense lawyer walked up.

"Mr. Fernandez," he began with a hand in his pocket, gesturing with his other hand. "Why did you go looking for Mr. Sanchez?"

"He's my friend, and I was getting worried. Manny isn't the nicest person when he's angry—" He cut himself short, fearing he already gave the defense more ammunition. "I'm the eldest of the four, but not by much. So I just feel like I need to watch out for them, and be responsible."

"And that's why you went to go find him?"

"Yes."

"So if you would've handled the situation at the sandbox, Mr. Sanchez would have never wandered off, and this would have never have happened to him, right?"

"I can't know that it wouldn't have happened—"

"So it is essentially your fault for not being responsible like you claim you are? You allowed Mr. Sanchez to throw the tantrum and then walk off, therefore allowing him to be raped?"

"What?! Allowing him?! Who would ever allow anybody to get raped?! That's insane!"

"Then you encouraged his egotistic behavior by helping fabricate lies about him ever being molested, giving him his way yet again so he could calm down from his tantrum?"

"Fabricating lies wh—I wouldn't help somebody do that! That's a serious and immoral thing to do to a person, and it's disrespectful and insensitive to real rape victims! This ques—"

"What is your relationship with the brothers, Feliciano and Lovino Vargas?" The defense lawyer picked up his notepad again as he reached his table.

"Feliciano is my friend and…" Antonio took a breath, remembering that he swore to be honest, but his gut told him it would get worse if he was. If they found out I was lying, then it'd be just as bad. This whole thing is a mess… he thought. "Feliciano is my friend, and Lovino is my boyfriend."

"So then you identify as a homosexual, is that correct?"

"Objection your honor!" shouted the prosecutor as she shot out of her seat. "The witness' sexual orientation has no relevance to this case, and neither does this line of questioning!"

"It does have relevance your honor. I'm getting to my point."

"You better, because you're in hot water right now. I will not tolerate such childish behavior in my courtroom." She looked at him sternly through her glasses. The defense lawyer continued. "So he's your boyfriend. Do you love him very much?"

Antonio looked at him skeptically. "Why?"

"Answer the question."

He paused for a moment, already taking a guess as to where this would go. If he answered, "Yes", then the defense lawyer would discredit him and perhaps accuse him of some sort of favoritism, even if he did not know he would have more of a preference for men than women until his teenage years. But if he said "No", he would have another argument with Lovino when the trial ended. And Lovino was just as bad, if not slightly worse, than Manuel when it came to losing control of his temper. But… he thought. I wouldn't exactly be lying if I said No either… And that's what bothers me.

"No, I don't love him. I like him, but I don't love him."

Feliciano did not dare glance in his brother's direction. He did not want to see if he was angry, or shocked, or whatever else. He kept his focus on Antonio, but felt the defense lawyer was out of bounds by asking such personal questions. Homosexuality isn't really accepted yet… he thought to himself. If he keeps questioning Toni like this… wah, it's not gonna go well. I hope the jurors don't have a personal vendetta against us… He tried to ignore the whispers in the room. All Lovino did was remain quiet.

"You like him. Did you like him when you were younger?"

"He was my friend when I was little. Of course I liked him; I like all my friends. That's why they're my friends." He shook his head slightly. "But this isn't about him, so why are you asking me—"

"You liked him more than your friend, Mr. Sanchez, correct?"

"What? No—"

"But he's currently your boyfriend, is he not?"

"Yes but—"

"What is your relationship with Mr. Sanchez?"

"He's my friend, I already told—"

"Does Mr. Sanchez harbor romantic feelings towards you?"

"Objection your honor!" the prosecutor shouted. "The defense has yet to make a relevant point in their case regarding the sexual orientation of the witness!"

"Sustained. No more questions regarding the sexual orientation of this witness. Don't try to word it any other way either; it is irrelevant as you have yet to make a point with your line of questioning. The jury will disregard the full statement of the witness regarding his sexual preferences."

He approached his table and then said, "I request a recess your honor."

"Already?" She looked at her watch. "Hmm, it's about lunch time. Very well. We'll continue in an hour. Then we move on to the next witness."

"I'm sorry," Manuel told the prosecutor. "I shouldn't have said the things I did…"

"He was trying to discredit you by demonstrating your temper." She bit into her sandwich, and spoke once she finished. "If the jury sees even a hint of that tantrum, some of them may have reason to doubt you. Not to mention the rape happened when you were very little, and you said on the stand you tried to forget it ever happened."

He held his head in his hands, but looked up when she spoke again. "But, the trial has only begun. I know you must feel like you messed this up, but don't forget, there are still plenty of witnesses that have yet to go up on the stand. The defense's case is unprofessionally weak, and so discrediting the witnesses is all they have. There is too much evidence against Williams; that's why Antonio was questioned about his sexuality. They're trying to discredit him with that."

"Why?"

"Some of the jurors may be biased. Homosexuality is still a very sensitive topic here, and not everyone will listen to facts and evidence when they're blinded by that. But don't worry; I won't let the defense win. You and the other witnesses are good kids, and I promise I'll get justice for you all." She smiled at him. "Now go eat something, Manuel. You look hungry. Meanwhile, I need to prep the other witnesses. They'll no doubt be attacked like you were earlier. Maybe even worse."

Manuel excused himself and walked out of the room to his parents and sisters. On the quieter end of the large hallway was Lovino, who was glaring intensely at his boyfriend.

"Lovi, I know, I know you're upset but—"

"There was no lying on the stand, so why'd you do it?"

"They can't prove that I do or don't love you."

"Do you?"

"…Well, I didn't exactly lie either."

"What?"

"Please don't get upset. I really, really do like you Lovi! A lot! Doesn't all the things I do for you and those days when we have s—"

"Ssssh! Moron! This is a public place!" he whispered with a reddening face, eyes scanning the area back and forth. Antonio chuckled a bit. "Why don't you think I don't like you?"

"I just thought… maybe it was stronger than that, y'know?" He crossed his arms, pouting. Antonio cocked his head to the side a bit. "Lovi, what are you trying to say?"

"Nothing."

"It's definitely something."

"…Idiot."

"Lovino…"

"If I told you that I loved you, what would you say?" He looked away from the Spaniard's face, down toward the ground. The response took too long to come that Lovino grew a sinking feeling in his stomach. He looked up at Antonio who wore a relaxed expression, and then a small exhale of breath. "I can't say I don't love somebody romantically if it's not true." He held up a finger before Lovino could speak. "I have never loved any of the people I was with before, not even Francis, or Sanne. But I like them greatly, even still. You can't just throw around the word 'love' so casually."

"…So then you just like me?"

"Of course I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't be your boyfriend, or even your friend."

"…Then what about… y'know… him…" He looked away again, still crossing his arms. Antonio followed his line of sight to where Alfred was, who was speaking with Manuel and his family. The Spanish teen sighed heavily.

"Lovino, not this again…"

"You never give me a straight answer when I ask you, Antonio, and you know it." He looked directly into his eyes. "Tell me the truth. Do you only like him too? 'Cause you even having to ask me permission to do that stupid-ass mistletoe thing with him is a little suspicious."

"Because I knew you would get angry if I didn't. You'd suspect me of cheating or something."

"Then why even do it in the first place?"

"Because I like doing it! We used to do that a lot as little kids!"

"You're starting to change the topic again."

"Fine! Just… ugh…" He held his head for a moment. "I like him too, okay? Like I like all of my friends? Is that too weird? Lovino, why are you so insecure about this? Have I not been a faithful boyfriend?"

"Yeah you have, but excuse me for feeling just a little jealous! Antonio you're so fucking oblivious to the sort of attraction you practically ooze out! Hell I even get jealous over your past flings or other people who simply just have crushes on you! Remember that Valentine you got last year that even said you're somebody's dream husband?! Like that's supposed to make me feel good that I have you?!"

"Well I would think it should since you're the one who has me and not anybody else. And not everything has to be about you! This isn't the time or place to be arguing about this thing again! We're here for Manny and to support Alfred and Matthew, not for you! Everything can be about you when this trial is over!" He gave a frustrated growl. "Lovino I really, really do like you okay, and I've been happy in this relationship but you need to stop being so damn jealous all the time! And don't bring Manny into this because he hasn't done anything alright? And I'm sorry if it seems like I'm giving him so much attention, but he needs me right now more than you need me, so just leave him alone! And if you don't then I'll just—!"

"You'll just what, Antonio?" He was half an inch away from his boyfriend's face, glaring at him. Antonio looked down at him sternly, not moving to widen the distance between them. He blinked once, and then stepped back. "This isn't the time to be talking about this."

"Oh I think it is."

"No, it isn't. There's a time and place for everything and right now and here is not it!" He began to walk away but Lovino grabbed his arm. "Fine, but I'm not done with you. I don't want this thing to be dragged out."

"Sure, whatever you want," he replied almost sourly. Lovino watched as the Spaniard approached Alfred and Manuel, apologizing for his words on the stand. Manuel just patted him on the arm and Alfred gave him an encouraging (but maybe a little too hard) slap on the back. Lovino crossed his arms, jealousy continuing to bubble in the pit of his stomach. He really hated this aspect about himself, but he knew he wasn't exactly the most pleasant person to be around, so losing Antonio made him just a little more than frightened.

"Lovino-san."

"Shit!" The Italian jumped and put a hand to his heart. He turned around and found Kiku with two water bottles in his hands. "Oh, Kiku, it's you. Damn, why're you so quiet all the time?! You're like a ninja… I almost had a heart attack."

"I'm sorry…"

"No, it's okay."

"…Uhm, are you alright? You look a little upset."

"Yeah I'm fine. Antonio's just being difficult again." He pouted but ceased his glaring in his boyfriend's direction. He looked to Kiku and asked, "How're you holding up? And Alfred and Matt?"

"They're… nervous, but more than a little bitter."

"I can only imagine. Poor guys. How long do you think this trial will last?"

"I'm not certain. It's possible it could last a few days, maybe around five at minimum. And as for me, I'm… well, I suppose? I don't really know. In truth, I am a little sour about this all, though my anger is directed towards Louis."

"Yeah, I can guess. You're really close with Alfred, almost as if you—"

"No, we're not that close. I mean, yes, we're close but not intimate-close."

"Eh? Who said anything about intimacy? What're you taking this as?"

"Nothing! I'm just saying that—well I assumed you meant I considered myself close to him like—never mind."

"Why're you getting all jittery? And are you okay, 'cause your face is getting really red."

"I am fine, Lovino-san. Ah, yes I need to give these water bottles to Matthew-san and Al." He made a noise that was a cross between a yelp and a choke. "Alfred-san! Yes, water! Uhm excuse me!" He walked away in a hurry, leaving Lovino to stand there in befuddlement.

The second half of the trial began with two more of the victims being called to the stand. The defense lawyer attacked them in similar ways as he did to Manuel and Antonio. Fortunately the prosecutor was able to put them in a better light with the jury before they had a chance to doubt their testimonies. The judge then announced the trial was over for the day, and that they will resume tomorrow.

Kiku hoped that Alfred and Matthew wouldn't have to testify, but sure enough, the next trial day was when they were called to the stand after the remaining victims testified. Alfred was called first by the defense, and he tried hard not to run over to his father and punch him in the face.

"Mr. Jones, what happened that day, the day you saw your father?"

"He's not my father. He only contributed his DNA. That's it."

"Yes, well, then I will rephrase: what occurred the day you encountered Mr. Williams at your home?"

"He invited himself in, even though my mom told him various times to get out. But he didn't. He just kept on smiling and tried to be all chummy with us. And then I got angry when I found out who he was, and then Manny came downstairs, and that's when everything turned to sh—" He glanced at the judge, remembering to watch his language. "—turned to crud."

"According to the police report, you assaulted Mr. Williams, correct?"

"Well like I didn't try to kill him—"

"But you still punched him in the face when he wasn't even defending himself?"

"He was mocking us! All of us! He is a huge racist assh—er, jerk! And he can't come into my house uninvited—!"

"But your mother let him in."

"No she didn't! He just waltzed right in!"

"But she didn't push him away."

"Wh…? Okay well yeah but—!"

"So then, you let this man into your home to assault him."

"NO! He had a fricken gun!"

"Which you didn't know about until after the police arrested him."

"Yeah but he even said he was going to play Russian Roulette with us, which means it was loaded—!"

"After he was in the police's custody, and unarmed, correct? So then he didn't attack any person in the house that night? In fact," he referred to his notepad again. "You slammed him up against the wall and punched him, and then Mr. Fernandez attempted to lunge at him, screaming in Spanish that he would kill Mr. Williams."

"Are you fricken kidding me?!"

"So in reality, none of you actually knew his true intent. And it wasn't until after Mr. Sanchez presented himself that you assumed what he was there for."

"Did you even read the report?! He said that he came to our house to take back what was his, and he was referring to Manny! It was only then that I—okay yeah—punched him in the face! It was in self-defense!"

"But he wasn't attacking you."

"He intruded my home!"

"Your home which you knowingly let him in—"

"No, we didn't let him in—"

"So you invited this man into your home, assumed he was there to cause problems, and even though he said a few words, that prompted you to lose control and physically attack him? Attack a man who is terminally ill from cancer? A cancer that has deteriorated his health since he got it last year, and by July he was already considerably weak?"

There was chatter in the courtroom as Alfred stared wide-eyed at the defense lawyer. Matthew shook his head slowly in shock, and Emily said nothing. The judge banged her gavel, and then the prosecutor said, "Your honor, the defense did not ever disclose Mr. Williams' medical condition—"

"Yes, I can see. Council approach." The prosecutor and defense lawyer walked up to the judge as the three of them began to discuss the current situation. Alfred sat in the witness box completely silent. From where Kiku was sitting, he seemed to be mouthing some words to himself. The blonde looked up and shook his head, and gave a short, bitter laugh. The prosecutor and defense lawyer went back to their seats, and then the judge said, "Due to the circumstances of this case so far, we will continue tomorrow at 8am sharp. Court dismissed." She banged her gavel, and people started to exit the room.

Alfred slowly walked over to his family, but he didn't lift his head from his focus on the ground. Kiku looked at him with concern, and put a hand on his arm. "Alfred-san?"

"That son of a bitch!" he exclaimed.

"Alfred, please," his mother said. "Not so loud!"

"Mom it's not fair. This could potentially… he's going to plead out for a lesser sentence, because he's already dying. There won't be any jail time."

"You don't know that Alfred—"

"I have seen enough crime dramas to know how this works!" Matthew was going to retort as he lifted a finger, but with Alfred so distraught, he probably wouldn't listen anyway. "Alfred," he began instead. "Think of it this way… As much as I hate that bastard… he's getting punished either way for his crimes. He's going to die."

"We don't know that Matt. He could evade jail and then get medical help—"

"The illness is terminal. You heard the defense lawyer. There's nothing more doctors can do."

"But it's not fair." He looked over toward Manuel and the other victims who were all speaking with their parents. "He's still gonna die in a comfy bed and stuff… and not get a sentence… while he's making them go through this shit again. Making them remember what he did to them…" He trailed off as he looked at the ground. The gears in his head started turning, and he grew visibly angry. "That asshole. That's… that's what he wants…! He wants… he wants them to remember, to live through what he did to them before he dies! He wants them to suffer… even after he's gone. I can't…"

Kiku watched with internal horror as the light in Alfred's eyes began to dim again, just like they did on that horrible summer evening. He was going to fall into despair again, he was going to start doubting himself again, and Kiku wouldn't allow it. Alfred walked out of the courtroom in a hurry, and Kiku followed after him. Matthew sighed heavily and sat down again, head in his hands. Emily watched as Kiku chased after the older twin; she could trust him to comfort Alfred. But Matthew always tried to be the mature one, the older one, even though he'll always be Alfred's little brother.

She sat down next to him, and brought him into a hug. "My baby…" she whispered. "I'm so sorry that you have to go through this."

"…It's not your fault mom."

"Yes it is. It's my fault for being foolish… for not doing something more when I started to have my suspicions about him those years ago."

"Mom, please… please don't blame yourself."

"I should've put you both up for adoption when… when you were born."

"What?!" He held his mother by her shoulders. "No! Why would you want to do that?!"

"To avoid this! Look at what it's doing to your brother Matthew! I have never seen him so visibly disturbed! He's horrified at all of this! And you hold everything in! The two of you always do!"

"No! I'm just—Alfred may be the older twin, but you know how immature he is and… well we can't both be that way right? So it's not that I'm holding it in but I'm just—I'm trying to be logical about all of it!" He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Mom… You took on so much by yourself; raising two children while going to college, and then working? Mom you worked so hard to give us a good life… There is no guarantee we would have been better off in a foster home."

Emily hung her head, but Matthew lowered his eye level to meet hers. "But there was a guarantee we'd be happy being raised by you, our mother, our one and only parent and guardian. And do you know why? Because you care so damn much about us, and you struggled so we wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Because you're Super Mom. Remember that? Remember when we were younger, and you'd put on a cape, and Al and I would play with you superheroes? It's not just make-believe. You really are super, mom."

"But Louis… he never would've found you two and make you go through this… if I hadn't kept you."

"You don't know that. I don't know that. Nobody knows that he wouldn't have. And mom… we're the Jones family. We can handle loads of crap thrown at us, okay? We're strong, just like our Super Mom."

She smiled, and then brought him into the family's signature bear hug. "Thank you honey. I love you so much."

"I love you too mom," Matthew replied, hugging her just as tight. "We'll be fine. I promise… We have a lot of friends who support us. They may not all be here because of school but… they've checked up on us periodically. And we have you, our Super Mom, the biggest support of all since the day we were born."

Kiku ran after Alfred and caught him in the men's restroom. He had thrown water on his face to calm himself down. The blonde began to zone out as he glared at the marble counter.

"Alfred-san, please look at me." When didn't respond, Kiku gripped both his hands tightly that Alfred had no choice but to look at him. "Do not think that such a horrible man won't get punishment for his crimes. The prosecutor is doing whatever she can to make sure he doesn't get away with it. There is too much evidence—too many victims—for him to not serve some sort of sentence. Please, have faith in her. She is here to support you, to support Manuel-san and the other teenagers, and I—your family and friends—we are here for you." His grip stood firm on his hands. "Do not… Please, don't go back to that hole of despair."

Alfred said nothing, but his anger slowly began to dissipate the longer he looked at Kiku. "That man is going to die either way. He's going to suffer and die a painful death. There is no worse sentence than death itself."

"I just… don't think it's enough. He has caused so much pain to others…"

"Alfred-san," Kiku put a hand to his cheek. "Try to think of it… as his punishment. Whatever force that governs our world decided he would die slowly, and in pain. And he will meet his eternal sentence, the death sentence. He will cease to exist. People will be happy he's dead. To have people hate you for being alive, to have people wanting your demise… and rejoicing that it will become reality… that nobody can save you… that itself is pretty hefty price to pay for such a vile crime."

The blonde looked down at the tiled pattern on the restroom floor, but Kiku ducked to make eye contact until Alfred would lift his head up again. "Alfred-san, everything is going to be alright. The wicked will always fall. You know that."

"But… Kiku I just…"

"Please don't think about these things so deeply… like you did that night he reappeared. Alfred-san, you're a good man, Matthew-san is a good man, and Jones-san is a good woman. You have good people in your family." He smiled softly, and brushed some bangs out of Alfred's face. The taller boy looked back at his friend. "Your hearts are golden like the hair that adorns your face, and your smiles shimmer like the sun. I know that we haven't always been friends, and I understand that we all have our flaws, flaws that I can recognize both in my companions and myself, but… but Alfred-san, I really do think you're a wonderful person, and justice is on your side, on your family's side, on Manuel-san's side, and the side of the other victims. Louis will get his punishment one way or another, and then you won't ever have to worry about him again."

"Kiku…"

"So many people support you, and so many people love you. They love you with all their heart because of who you are, and they will continue to love you even in the eternity of death." Kiku's face reddened, but he continued. "I will always be here to support you Alfred-san, because you have been so kind to me and lifted me up when I was down. And you… you are my best friend, and the… the most important person to me. I really…" Alfred felt his face growing hot. He thanked himself that he took of his glasses, otherwise it'd be another awkward situation like at the Halloween store. "I really…"

"Y-Yeah, Kiku?"

He stared at Alfred, his face still pink and warm. He wanted to tell him how he felt, but what Alfred was going through right now, it'd only complicate matters. The last thing he needed was for his friend to have added stress on his shoulders. "I really… I really am happy I met you, Alfred-san."

The blonde was a little disappointed to hear him say that, as he was hoping for something… a little more—no, no the trial is just getting to his head. Did he seriously just wish that Kiku would've said something like… like he liked him? Liked liked him? Or even… No. Alfred tried to shake those thoughts out of his mind. But the more he stared at Kiku, the more he wished that's what he would've said, because Alfred himself felt that maybe, maybe he… Well he was cute. That much was certain. And he was such a good friend to Alfred, so it was just admiration, right? And all the urges to hold him and hug him were just because of that, right?

Alfred brought Kiku into a hug, surprising the latter as his face deepened in color. He held him tight, and whispered, "Thank you, Kiku. I'm really happy I met you too." He released him, and put his hands on his shoulders, smiling down at him. Kiku realized he looked a lot calmer and content than a few minutes ago. "I really shouldn't worry too much." He put his glasses back on, and then gave a small chuckle. "Thanks for keeping me grounded. You're a really good friend."

"Of course, Alfred-san. I will always… I will always be here for you."

He smiled at him again and said, "I'll always be here for you too, buddy. Just… thanks again, for everything."

"It is my pleasure—" But he cut himself short when he felt a kiss to his forehead. He froze, holding his breath. He saw Alfred head out the door of the restroom from his peripheral vision, but he still stood standing there, staring at the wall. He slowly put a palm to his forehead. He swallowed hard, and looked at himself in the mirror. His blush had spread across his face and he felt dizzy. The dress shirt felt too warm for him now. He rinsed his face with cold water to calm down, and then put a hand to his heart. It pounded against his chest rapidly; he was sure he was going to have an attack of some sort. "Alfred-san…" He smiled a bit, completely forgetting the promise he made to himself. It was hard to not have feelings for someone, to completely erase them. Kiku knew he was in a hopeless position, wanting his best friend to look at him as more than a platonic buddy. But he couldn't stop smiling, and he was positive that he'd slap himself later for letting the hope spark up inside him again.

Alfred stood outside the bathroom door, staring at the ground with wide eyes. He covered his mouth as red colored his face again. The glasses began to fog up once more.

The next day, Louis was called to the stand. His lawyer advised him on taking a plea bargain, but he refused. His lawyer reminded him that at this point, it was difficult for the jury to see him as anything other than an atrocious demon from Hell, but he only smirked in response.

"Mr. Williams," his lawyer began. "You have several individuals claiming you assaulted them in one of the worst ways possible. Do you have any idea why this may be?"

"No, I do not."

"Have you ever seen them before?"

"Perhaps."

"And do you have any idea why they may be accusing you of doing something to them? That something being molestation and sexual abuse?"

"Oh, that. No, I don't know. I suppose I must've spoken with one or two of them before as little kids. Maybe at a park of some sort, or a beach. I don't really know. Deteriorating health, and all." He smiled.

"About that. Why did you choose to go through this trial, even though you're aware of your terminal illness?"

"I try not to let any physical problems bring me down. I still have a life to live, and I'm going to live it. And if I have to spend it by honoring the court's decision to put me through this long, and strenuous, process… then I shall do it. The last thing I want to do before I die is be a law-abiding citizen, you know, leave my mark on the world."

The lawyer nodded, and then looked to the judge. "No more questions, your honor." After he sat down, the prosecutor took a few moments to scribble down some notes on her notepad, and then she got up.

"Law-abiding citizen." She gave a short laugh. "So, you wish to leave your mark on the world, do you Mr. Williams?"

"Yes ma'am."

"What kind of mark? Good, or bad?"

"I'd prefer good."

"Ah, you'd prefer. Did the victims who are accusing you of rape, prefer to go through that?"

"They're obviously lying. They were children when they claimed this happened to them. You know how active their imaginations are, especially in today's society, where all you see on television and movies is violence and sex."

"So, it's their fault."

"Well, yes."

"It's their fault that they suffered internal and external injuries, as well as several of them needing therapy because of nightmares plaguing their sleep or negative behavioral problems? It's their fault that some of them have problems maintaining relationships with family, friends, and romantic partners?" He said nothing, and she walked closer to him. "These children have suffered through something that nobody should ever have to go through. And now as teenagers—young adults—they have to endure it all over again?"

He smiled. "If there's anybody to blame, it's their parents."

"Oh, so now it's their parents? Would you care to elaborate on that, Mr. Williams?"

"If their parents would have just stayed in their own country, this would've never happened."

"Is that your reasoning for raping innocent children? Because they were immigrants?"

"Now I never said that."

"So then, why do you think you're here today, Mr. Williams?"

"I don't know counselor. I was hoping you'd tell me."

The man was grating on her nerves, but she simply smiled once, and then paced around her side of the court room. "You're here because you traumatized several children by sexually assaulting them. These children are from immigrant families, and are immigrants themselves. You were arrested at a civilian's home, the home of your children and ex-wife. You harassed them and a previous victim of yours with a gun in your possession. That is why you're here before a jury, Mr. Williams. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, then we can continue. Why did you go to your ex-wife's home on July 4th?"

"I wanted to visit my kids."

"Kids who you haven't seen in over a decade?"

"Yes."

"When you got to the home, your ex-wife attempted to throw you out. Is this correct?"

"Yes."

"And why is that?"

"Because she's a goody-two-shoed bitch."

"Language, Mr. Williams," the judge said, glaring at him.

"No, she threw you out because you were trespassing. You harassed her and her children, as well as their guests, one of whom was a victim of yours when he was little." She walked to her table and picked up her notepad. "You said, 'You still haven't found that marble under the leaves' to the victim and clearly identified yourself as his attacker to both him, and his friend who was there that day."

"I got that out of the newspaper. I remembered seeing his face in it."

"Really? You assumed what he'd look like nine years later, at age sixteen? The details of his case were never released to the public, so only the ones involved in the crime could have known what was said."

Louis said nothing, so the prosecutor continued. "Why did you attack these children, Mr. Williams?"

"I said I didn't do anything."

"They all made positive IDs in the line-up."

"And witnesses are the worst pieces of evidence."

"They all remembered very, very clearly how you abused them. They have all testified in this courtroom honestly, their stories consistent and precise to what had happened to them years ago, even the ones who attempted to forget. They were all assaulted in different places in different cities, and yet they all recognized your face, and your voice."

"Is there a question here your honor?" asked the defense lawyer. The prosecutor flipped a page of her notepad. "Mr. Williams, can you tell me what all these victims have in common?"

"They're teenagers, that much is obvious."

"Try harder."

"There's really nothing else to say about them."

"Nothing?" She began to read off of her notepad. "Tomiko Yamamoto, age 7, attacked on March 14th, home country Japan. Nicolai Reshetnikov, age 7, attacked on December 3rd, home country Russia. Aiden Drake, age 8, attacked on April 21st, home country Scotland. Carlotta Bertolino, age 8, attacked on June 15th, home country Italy. Gabir Kanaan, age 7, attacked on October 29th, home country Lebanon. Manuel Sanchez, age 7, attacked on August 18th, home country Mexico." The jury each took their own time to glance at the teenagers sitting in the courtroom, some attempting to contain their sobs, and others crying silently while trying to retain their composure. Alfred couldn't see his friend, but Antonio watched as Manuel attempted to keep his composure next to the other victims. He scowled and grit his teeth, glaring at Louis as angry tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Mary Porter, age 8, went missing January 10th. Her body was found behind a dumpster on February 12th. She was from England. James Huang, age 7, went missing May 6th. His body was washed ashore near the docks on June 9th. He was from China. Eric Brouwer, age 7, went missing September 22nd. His body was found behind a rock on a hiking trail on November 24th. He was from the Netherlands." She continued down the list in rapid succession, until she slammed her notepad on her table a bit angrily. "Japan, Russia, Scotland, Italy, Lebanon, Mexico, England, China, Netherlands, Philippines, France, India, South Africa, Australia, Poland, Guatemala, Brazil, Jamaica, Puerto Rico, Egypt, South Korea, Iran, Columbia, Argentina, Israel, Vietnam, Zimbabwe, Belgium, Germany, Turkey, Lithuania, Greece, Dubai, Yugoslavia, Paraguay, Haiti—you're just going through the ENTIRE alphabet of countries, aren't you?!"

Louis remained silent as she continued. "Do you see the pattern now, Mr. Williams?! These were all children who were either sexually assaulted, kidnapped, murdered, or all three! These were all from families here in the United States, families who immigrated from their home countries around the world! And only your first six victims were found alive! They were crying and bleeding from trauma consistent with vaginal and anal penetration! They all recognized you as their attacker because the rest of the victims are buried six feet underground, may they rest in peace! We have your DNA in the medical reports and positive IDs from every single one of your victims here in the courtroom today. So do you get it now, Mr. Williams? Do you understand what all these teenagers have in common? It's not their age, or even the color of their skin, or even their accent. It's their country of origin, the country in which they were born, their immigrant families. For years you have been attacking children from parents who moved to the United States to give their children better lives than the ones in their countries back home. And you have ruined their lives by your completely heinous and outright atrocious actions."

Louis began to chuckle, and sighed. He looked tired, but grinned widely. "They should've went back to where they came from. There's enough of them here in this country and not enough jobs for them all. If their country couldn't provide for them, then that's too bad. They have to suck it up, because we have to. It's their kids who take our jobs just because they have a sob story, while us real Americans have to break our backs trying to make ends meet thanks to them taking away our opportunities. I've lost so many jobs—so many opportunities—because of them. Can't get medical insurance without a job, and so I can't pay for my treatment. Why does America have to be the foster home for all the unwanted, pathetic foreigners? Those kids are a waste of space in both the educational system and job market. And the only thing they're good for are tax reductions. So if they're not going to go back of their own free will, then somebody has to give them an incentive."

The prosecutor gripped the edges of the front of the witness stand as she leaned in, and spoke in a tone dripping with venom. "Is that a confession, Mr. Williams?"

"It's my feelings on the matter…" He looked to the victims. "…of lives that are a complete waste of space."

Alfred wanted to lunge at him and attack him again, but Matthew put a hand on his shoulder, his grip tight. He calmed down a little, but the hatred within him continued to boil. The room murmured and the judge banged her gavel to regain order. The prosecutor stood upright and looked at Louis with disgust. "No further questions your honor."

A while later, the defense attorney and prosecutor made their closing arguments, and the jury went into the room to give their verdict. Alfred waited nervously with his family. The feelings of misplaced guilt threatened to return, so he couldn't bring himself to speak a word to Manuel. About an hour later, the jury returned back into the room with the verdict.

"Will the defendant please rise," the judge said. She was handed a paper by the court officer, looked at it briefly, and then looked to the jury. "On the charges of stalking in the first degree, kidnapping in the first degree, murder in the first degree, and sexual assault in the first degree, has the jury reached a verdict?"

The forewoman stood up, paper in her hands. "We have your honor."

"How does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant, Louis D. Williams…" She opened the paper. The room was deathly silent as they sat in anticipation.

"Guilty, on all charges."

The courtroom burst into chatter, and the judge banged her gavel loudly to regain order. "Due to Mr. Williams terminal illness, the death penalty would be considered cruel and unusual punishment. Therefore, the defendant is sentenced to life imprisonment for each innocent who suffered through the severe and abominable crimes committed against them. He will serve these consecutively until death's embrace comes for him. Court officers, get the defendant out of my sight." She looked to her left and nodded. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the state thanks you for your service. You are dismissed."

The chatter erupted again as reporters began to take photos or ask for statements. After hearing the verdict, the victims said nothing at first; they merely stared absentmindedly at the space in front of them. After a few moments, they began to cry or sob, their parents holding them tight. Manuel was trying to process the verdict, drowning out the noise around him. His eyes welled up again, and he found himself beginning to cry. Despite his efforts to hold it in, his emotions betrayed him, and he held his face in his hands as he allowed himself to weep out of relief and happiness. Antonio was the first to hold him as he cried, and was a little surprised when his friend didn't push him away, but instead cried into his shoulder. His parents and his sisters joined him in the embrace. Feliciano started crying out of joy for his friend, and lumped himself together with them. Lovino wanted to join in, but felt he would be a crowd, so all he did was pat his back when he was able. He smiled for him regardless of the jealous feelings that had grown throughout the trial. He was just happy he didn't have to see a friend suffer anymore.

Emily began to cry and Matthew held her. Alfred didn't do anything at first, but Kiku could tell he was immensely relieved. He watched his face carefully, and relaxed when a smile began to form on his lips. "It's over…" he heard him say. "It's finally over…" He looked to Kiku. "It's finally over," he said again, his voice breaking. He started to laugh, and Kiku watched as tears fell whenever he blinked. He removed his glasses and hid his eyes with his arm. Kiku put a hand on his shoulder, but Alfred brought him into a bear hug. The smaller teen rubbed his back, and found himself crying for him yet again. He wrapped his own arms around him as he cried out of relief for not only Alfred, but Matthew, Emily, Manuel, and all the other people who had to go through such a traumatizing event.

Finally, it's over, Kiku thought. Finally, the departed children can rest. Finally, the remaining victims can find peace. Finally, Manuel-san got his justice. Finally, Matthew-san and Jones-san can move on. He found himself chuckling as he continued to cry. Matthew and Emily hugged the two as the family of four shed tears together.

And finally, Alfred can smile again.

A/N: People commit crimes for the most petty and irrational of reasons sometimes that it makes me extremely angry. I have been completely stumped with this chapter for several long months. I had to keep rewriting it because it didn't sound right. I hit a wall during my research to make this chapter sound at least somewhat legit. This resulted in my last resort: marathoning all 16 seasons of Law & Order: SVU, seasons I had already finished. Which means I watched the whole dang show twice. TWICE. It helped some, and then I just went with my gut, because I couldn't keep you guys waiting any longer. And I apologize for the delay. But when I work on my writing projects, whether it's fanfic or my original story, I want to give it quality so sometimes it takes a while. And please forgive me if the questions in this trial sounded akin to shit. I tried my best. orz;;

Anyway, my new semester is starting again, which is another reason I wanted to update this fic for you all. Eh... and according to my workload, I probably won't be able to update as much. However, there is good news. With this chapter done, I can now move on to the final remaining chapters! I know exactly what I want to happen, so it's just a matter of finding the time to do it. ...and another reason this took so long to update was because I wanted to get some more anime under my belt before school started. Out of like 40 plus titles recommended to me, I only managed to finish or catch up with... like 5. -stares into the sunset- Caught up with my weekly manga (Bleach and One Piece) and then the anime recs (Haikyuu!, Doten ni Warau, Assassination Classroom, Yowamushi Pedal) the latter destroying my life all over again because I'm fully convinced sadism is a requirement to be a sports genre mangaka. Don't watch it, and if you do, I'm sorry for your loss. I also got caught up playing Alpha Sapphire (NOSTALGIA) and reverted back to my Fire Emblem Awakening phase. (Chrom keeps pulling me back in because he's a loser.) I also completed my National Pokedex in Pokemon X, after years... YEARS of trying since Gold & Silver for GBC. A whopping 719 Pokemon. I caught them all. AH HA HA. Yes so hobbies also got in the way...

Thanks for sticking with me for this long. I tried to write this chapter, and deal with this issue as respectfully as possible. It's always a sensitive topic, even in fiction, so I hope I was able to write it in a realistic manner. And as an ending note, if anybody ever jokes about sexual assault, please tell them they have a condition called "Being An Asshole", okay?

So I guess I'll see you all next chapter, yeah? I'm always open to private messages if you have any questions or whatever, so feel free to send me one if you'd like! :)