Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters.

A/N: Hey guys. As usual, I want to thank everyone who continues to read this seemingly never-ending story…lol, and huge thanks to all who leave me feedback. You guys are all awesome and you know I love ya. Hope you enjoy this one.

…..

Peyton half expected her father to be there waiting to stop her when she went to the police station that evening. Naturally she'd had no choice but to go to school today since her dad had already discovered her lack thereof the rest of the week. Brooke had also gone, not because she wanted to, but because she couldn't stand being in that big house all alone, feeling completely helpless. Unfortunately Mr. Turner had called Brooke out on slacking off on her clean up duties—her punishment by the school for hitting Katie. He'd failed to enforce that punishment due to her lack of attendance, letting the issue slide temporarily since he knew she'd been going to the courthouse to support her best friend, but now that she was back, he said it was time to get back to those duties.

However, Peyton had let everyone know that Nathan was now permitted visitors and had volunteered to take over Brooke's duties so that the brunette could go see Nathan. It wasn't exactly a sacrifice on Peyton's part. First of all, she'd already told Brooke she'd help her since she did feel partly responsible for the Katie confrontation, which Brooke informed her that the police had also questioned her and Rachel on the girl's disappearance, and second, thanks to her dad, she couldn't visit Nathan until the police who recognized her were off shift anyway—with her fake 'Hilarie Burton' ID. Thank goodness Damien had thought of it, otherwise she'd never get to see Nathan outside the courtroom, where they weren't even permitted to speak to each other. Well, until he got acquitted anyway, which Peyton was confident would happen. But still, she didn't want to wait until that day. She wanted to see him now.

Brooke had been all too happy to accept Peyton's offer, glad to finally be able to talk to Nathan properly and see how he was doing with everything. Getting out of cleanup duty was definitely a bonus too. The only thing she raised her eyebrows at was when Damien volunteered, not only to take Peyton to the police station later, but also to stay behind with her and help her clean up. But Peyton hadn't noticed the strange look she'd received from her best friend and had gone off to the other end of the quad to begin her work.

Now, Peyton's heart raced with excitement as she climbed the stairs of the building, the only damper being her father's potential presence.

But he wasn't there and she couldn't be happier for it. She was a bit surprised, however, to come upon Deb sitting on the top step.

"Hey, Mrs. Scott," she greeted courteously as she got nearer. "Is there a lineup to see him?" she joked, although it wouldn't surprise her if there were.

Deb chuckled softly. "Dan's in with him now," she said. "Me, I'm debating whether to join him or stick to my original plan and wait until Nathan's ready to talk to me," she added before Peyton could ask.

Peyton sat beside the older blonde, a little unsure of herself. While she was grateful for the phone call, letting her know what was going on, this was the woman who'd hurt Nathan so badly with her absence, and even more so with her suicide attempt. Maybe it was unreasonable, but Peyton was still a little upset with her for that. And wait around until he was ready to talk? Was she serious? Did she really expect Nathan to just become ready without any kind of effort on her part? "No offence," she said. "But that might be never."

Deb nodded in acknowledgement. "He's pretty upset with me still, I know."

Understatement of the year, Peyton thought.

"And I don't blame him," Deb continued. "I've been a sorry excuse for a mother. He deserved better than that from me."

Peyton would have responded if she didn't completely agree. Nathan did deserve better. From both his parents. The one thing about her own dad was that, even though he was clearly clueless about her needs, she always knew he cared. A little too much sometimes.

"I'm glad Nathan has you looking out for him," Deb continued. "He'll be happy to see you."

"Thank you," Peyton said appreciatively. "I can't wait to see him either. Thanks for calling me."

"Oh, absolutely," Deb replied. "Cooper and Jess suggested it, actually. They figured you'd want to know." She paused a moment before bringing up the next point. "I heard about the engagement."

Peyton smiled and her face flushed a little. And then she remembered Nathan telling her that Deb likely wouldn't sign a consent that would allow them to marry before they were 18. Not that it mattered since her father had also refused, but it still stung a little, for some reason. "Nathan said you wouldn't approve," she said.

"Nathan's been talking to his father, not me," Deb told her.

Peyton gazed at her curiously. "So you would sign the consent form?" she asked uncertainly.

Deb laughed. "To get married now, no, of course not," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean I don't approve of a wedding for you two down the road. I just don't see what the big rush is. You're both still kids. Why not wait until after college?"

Peyton looked down as Deb brought up her own original suggestion and she recalled Nathan's reaction to it. He'd been so upset that she'd wanted to put if off a few years. Deb certainly better not make that suggestion if she wanted any chance of getting on Nathan's good side. "We love each other," Peyton defended. "A few years isn't going to change that."

"Exactly," Deb agreed. "Which is why I don't understand why you don't just wait. But I do know my son. Once he gets an idea in his head and knows he wants it, there's no talking him out of it. He will fight you tooth and nail to get his way."

Peyton couldn't hold back a chuckle. "So true," she said.

"He's always been that way," Deb told her. "I remember one time, he was about 3 or 4, I brought him to the grocery store, and he spotted this bag of cookies that he wanted. No problem, I threw it in the grocery cart…"

Peyton chuckled, already seeing how this story turned out. "But he wanted to eat them right away and pitched a huge fit when you said no."

Deb gazed at her curiously. "Have I already told this story?" she wondered aloud.

"No, I just guessed," Peyton replied. "I can totally picture Nathan doing that. He never outgrew temper tantrums," she said with a laugh.

"I'll bet he doesn't flail his arms and kick his feet anymore though," Deb returned with amusement.

"Only every now and then," Peyton joked. "That's an improvement, I guess."

Deb had to laugh along with her son's girlfriend. "He was never that way with his father though," she said reflectively. "I suppose that was my own fault. Unlike me, Dan wouldn't have given in to the tantrum. He would have put the cookies back on the shelf instead of opening the box and giving him one like I did. Boy did I pay for my lack of backbone."

"Hindsight 20-20, right?" Peyton said.

Deb nodded. "I made so many mistakes with Nathan. I basically gave up on motherhood when it got too hard. Dan was always too hard on him, and I was either absent or medicated. Nathan never really had a chance."

"At what?" Peyton asked curiously. "You do know he's innocent, don't you?"

"Is he?"

Just like that, Peyton's back went up. "You know, of all people he needs to believe in him, it's his parents," she said, put off by the woman's lack of faith in her son.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Deb countered. "Something tells me that yours is the only support system he cares about."

Peyton stood up abruptly. "Do you really believe that or is that just your escape route to not have to try?"

"Excuse me?"

"If he only cares about my support, then you're off the hook, right? You've passed the buck over to me, just like you did to Mr. Scott the whole time Nate was growing up. And not that I mind being his whole support system because I would do anything for him, but it's not fair to Nathan. Just because he has me, doesn't mean he doesn't need anybody else, especially his mom."

Deb opened and closed her mouth, wanting to reply yet not knowing how. Not that she'd have had the chance since Peyton wasn't finished her rant.

"You know," Peyton continued. "Earlier I was thinking I should tell you that if you want to make things up to Nathan, that you should just talk to him, because even though he will curse and shout at first, he'll calm down if he sees that you're really trying, and maybe even eventually give you a chance. I was gonna say how avoiding him until he's ready to talk would never work, since avoiding him is one of the main reasons he was mad at you in the first place. But on second thought," she continued, fire burning in her emerald eyes. "If all you're going to do is show him how much you don't trust him, don't believe him, then you should do him the favor of doing what you do best—leave him alone."

She took off inside in a huff, knowing she'd definitely overstepped her boundaries, yet she'd been unable to stop herself. She had to get away from this woman before she ended up slapping her. In her haste, she ran smack into Dan.

"Miss Sawyer," he greeted. "In a hurry?"

"You could say that," she answered dryly. "How is he?" she had to ask.

"He's been better," Dan replied. "Go on," he said, motioning toward the cell. "He's been asking about you."

She simply nodded and moved past Dan, anxious to see her fiancé.

…..

It only took seeing him for her mood to turn around once again. Except that it broke her heart to see him sitting there looking so defeated.

"Hey," she greeted when he didn't look up. "Chin up, Scott. You're getting outta here soon."

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and he instantly stood to his feet and walked closer to her. "Hey," he returned. "I was wondering when you'd come."

She smiled, liking the fact that he said 'when' and not 'if'. She didn't explain her reasons for not coming sooner though. She knew he already knew them. "I'm glad you're finally able to have visitors again," she told him.

"Me too. The past few weeks have been hell without you."

"For me too," she said. "And then getting through the school day was torture, knowing I was gonna get to see you afterward."

He nodded almost imperceptibly. "For once, I'd actually love to be in school right now."

"You will be soon," she told him confidently.

"I don't know about that," he countered, not missing the fact that she'd already said that twice in a matter of seconds. "D.A. was pretty convincing. I think the jury might have bought it."

"Well, I think," Peyton began, reaching inside the bars to lace her fingers through his. "No, make that, I know, that the jury is smarter than that. They see right through Haley and Katie's bull. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah? Then why are they taking so long to decide?" he asked.

She opened her mouth, about to tell him that it had only been two days since closing arguments, but she thought better of it, knowing that, for him, it felt like so much longer. She could relate to that. "Because," she said instead, "they're busy digging a hole for all the crap they heard from the other side."

Despite the situation, he chuckled a bit. "Funny," he said flatly.

"Made you laugh," she came back with. Which was the point of the joke. She took in his haggard appearance, noting again, as she'd done in court, how tired and drawn he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes, indicating a severe lack of sleep, stubble on his face; he wasn't at the point of having to shave daily yet, but the small amount of facial hair he had meant he probably hadn't shaved in at least a few weeks. These little tell-tale signs of a rough couple of weeks bothered her, but there was one that got to her more than the others. Running her thumbs over his palms, she commented on it. "You've lost some weight. Don't they feed you in here?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "The food sucks," he replied simply. "I eat it when I'm starving."

She shook her head, hating that he was going through this. But still, she was confident that it would all be over soon. "We'll have to do something about that when you get out," she said optimistically. "Bulk you up again."

"So you won't be doing the cooking then," he couldn't resist teasing.

"Hey, nor you," she shot back, glad to see him able to play around, if only a little. "We'll go to that Mexican restaurant that you like so much," she told him firmly. "Every night till you're back to your normal weight."

He gave her a small smile. "You hate that restaurant," he reminded her. She'd gone with him twice and hated it both times. Now, if he wanted to go there, he did it when she wasn't around.

"I'll buy a big ass purse and sneak in a double cheeseburger and fries for myself," she said. They won't even notice. And you'd better appreciate it too, cuz I would only do that for you."

"I appreciate everything you do, Peyton," he said seriously. "Even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes."

"I know," she acknowledged.

"No, I don't think you do," he contradicted. "I mean, how could you when I don't act like it most of the time? But I've been thinking…"

"That's where all the smoke is coming from," she said. "Joke," she added when he looked at her unamused. "Ok, I'm sorry. Go on," she told him when his expression didn't change.

"I was thinking about how the D.A. said that I don't respect anyone, including you, and…"

"Don't listen to her, Nathan. That's what she's there for; to make you look bad."

"Yeah well, it didn't take much effort. I made it pretty easy on her."

"Stop."

"It made me think about how bad I've treated you, even just since we got back together this last time…"

"Nate…"

"No, just listen, ok," he all but pleaded. "I'm sorry I freaked out when you didn't want to marry me right away, and for pretty much pushing you into agreeing, and for being such a dick to you when you were visiting me before, and for everything else I've put you through. I didn't deserve for you to come back to me…"

"Hey, hey, stop," she said assertively. "I don't want to hear you talking like this. You didn't push me into anything. I agreed to marry you on my own because I wanted to..."

"Yeah, but not right away."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does."

"Well, not to me. And as for you being a dick before, don't even…" She took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm the one who should apologize for not telling you about Jake sticking up for Haley, and for acting like I even have a clue of what you're going through. You were right. I'm not the one who's had to be locked up day in and day out…"

"No, but you were right to say that you're going through this too. I was just being an ass and not caring about how this all affects you. I was frustrated and…scared…but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

She nodded, accepting his words for what they were—an apology. "We both have that tendency to take stuff out on the people around us," she admitted. "I'm surprised Brooke has a head left with how much I've been biting it off lately."

"She'll forgive you," Nathan told her knowingly.

Again Peyton nodded, knowing he was right. "She already has."

"I don't want you to quit drawing," he surprised her by saying next.

She rolled her eyes. "Hence one of the reasons I've been so angry with her," she said dully.

"Don't be mad at Brooke, Peyt," he said. "She's right. Drawing is one of your passions, and I don't have any right to get in the way of that."

"It's my decision, Nathan."

"Yeah, but you're doing it for me, and I don't want you to."

"Brooke tell you to say that?" she wondered aloud. "Cuz last time I checked, you were more than fine with it," she added bitterly.

"I know, but…"

"And, for the record," she cut him off. "It's not for you, it's for us."

"Peyton…"

"Nathan, let's not do this right now. I really don't want to argue with you."

"I don't either…"

"Good, then let's drop it."

"How's that gonna solve anything?" he questioned her.

"There's nothing to solve," she threw back. "I've already decided." She sighed when he gave her that look again. "All right, listen," she conceded. "If it's that big of an issue, then we can talk about it again when you're out. But for now, let's just be here together without all the drama. Okay?"

"Kay," he said. He didn't want to argue either. But what he had to say next had to be said. "But the thing is, I might not get out…"

"Don't say that. You will."

"And if I don't…" he continued as though she hadn't cut him off.

"Nathan, you will."

"But if I don't, Peyton," he stressed, not so much irritably as desperately. "There's something else I want you to do for me." He paused to ensure that she was really listening to him. When he was satisfied that she was, he went on. "If I'm convicted, I want you to move on with your life," he said. "With someone else," he added through gritted teeth, as though it was the hardest thing in the world to say. Maybe because it was.

She nodded, her curls bobbing up and down as she did so. "Ok," she replied easily.

"No, Peyton, I mean it," he said sternly. "I don't want you waiting around for me when it could be like, ten years or more before I'm free, so don't fight me on this. You should be able to enjoy your life…Wait," he said when her response sank in. "Ok?" he asked, perplexed.

"Yeah," she answered. "If that's what you want."

He opened and closed his mouth several times before finally responding. "Well… ok then. Good. I guess it's settled."

"I guess so," she agreed.

"Just uh, don't let it be Lucas."

"Not Lucas. Got it."

He looked at her in bewilderment, but continued. "Or any of his friends."

"Ok."

"And not Tim either. Love the guy, but…no. Oh, and not Tyler. He's too much of a pushover and you'd probably get bored."

"Yeah," Peyton agreed. "And plus he's with Teresa."

"Yeah, that too. Oh, and Vegas shouldn't be an option either. He's…"

Peyton chuckled at her boyfriend. "Shall I just run any potential male by the prison to get your take on him?" she teased him. "Cuz I can do that."

Again with that look of his that said he wasn't amused.

"I'm just saying," Peyton defended lightly. "Cuz you tell me to move on, but you want to dictate with who."

He sighed heavily. "You think it's easy for me to tell you this stuff?"

"You think it's easy for me to hear it?"

"Yeah, apparently it is."

"What does that mean?"

"I ran this conversation over and over in my head a thousand times in the past few days," he told her. "And not once did you just…agree."

"Well, if you didn't want me to agree, then you shouldn't have suggested it," she countered.

"I want you to agree," he shot back. "I just thought you'd need convincing. That I'd have a fight on my hands," he grumbled. "But no, you're just like, 'yeah, sure, whatever. I was gonna do that anyway.'"

Stifling back a laugh, she answered. "Not exactly what I said."

"Practically."

With that, she could hold her giggle in no longer. "I'm not serious, Doofus," she said. "Nate, look at me," she ordered softly when he didn't even crack a smile. "I love you, but sometimes…" She let the words trail off to replace them with others. "Do you really think I would have so readily agreed if I thought, for one second, that you'd be convicted? No. I said I'd do it because I know it's not gonna come to that."

"Peyton," he spoke as softly as she had. "You need to start facing the possibility that it might."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because that's the reality here," he replied reasonably. "I know you want to believe the system's gonna work, and I hope that too, but that's just wishful thinking. We don't know what's gonna happen, which way the jury's gonna vote."

"It's not wishful thinking," she insisted. "You're getting out. I know it."

"How?"

"I feel it."

"You feel it," he repeated. "That's the wishful thinking I was talking about."

"No, it's more than that."

"How?"

"If I tell you, you'll say I'm crazy and make fun of me," she said.

"No, I won't. I prom…" He stopped mid-word as the likely cause of her absolute certainty hit him like a ton of bricks. "Don't tell me you heard it in a song," he said sharply.

A deep blush crept up her cheeks. "Can't say you don't know me," she said.

He sighed, disappointed that he'd guessed right. He'd have rather she tell him she had an inside scoop somehow. He felt even worse when she told him of the circumstances by which she'd come upon the song. "So all this is based on a singing street bum?" he asked dully.

"Don't be mean," she chastised. "Besides, it was more about the song than the singer. It just called out to me, you know?"

"Not really."

"It was like it was telling me specifically that we're being watched over and that everything would be ok."

"Look, Peyt, don't take this the wrong way, but it was just a song. Not a magic potion, not a miracle in the works. A song. You're giving it way more power than it actually has."

"Say what you will, but music has never steered me wrong."

"How can it when you put so much emphasis on it? You create ways to make it about you so that it means something, but I'm sorry, I think that's kind of irrational."

She smiled at him, perfectly aware that this would be his reaction. But she couldn't explain the feeling she got. Unless he experienced it for himself, he would never understand the symbolic impact that music had on her life. "Well, I guess you're just gonna have to trust me on this one," she told him. "I'm pretty sure Damien thought I was crazy too," she said with a chuckle as she thought about it. "I don't think he knew what to do with himself when I just suddenly stopped dead."

His face hardened and he took a deep breath. "You were with Damien?" he asked, an accusation evident in his tone. "So it's not just him taking you to see me anymore? Now you're even hanging out?"

"Don't even go there, ok," Peyton instructed. She almost had to laugh. Just mere seconds ago he was telling her she should move on if he was convicted, and yet she couldn't even hang out with a mutual friend without inspiring jealousy from him. It was both frustrating and adorable at the same time. "You have nothing to worry about," she assured him. "Like I told you before, Damien is no threat to us. I love you and he's our friend."

"Yeah? Well then how come it seems like he's been trying to move in on you while I'm gone?" he asked. He'd never thought this until recently—had always trusted his friend—but lately, the more he heard about all the guy was doing to help Peyton out, the more suspicious Nathan became about his motives.

"Because you're paranoid that way," Peyton answered. "You think every guy is after me, but I assure you, Damien hasn't tried anything inappropriate. He's just being a good friend. Like Brooke is to both of us."

"You're comparing him to Brooke?" he scoffed. "I've been friends with Brooke my whole life," he pointed out. "You and Damien weren't friends before. Not to mention, unlike Damien, Brooke has never, at any point, wanted more than friendship with me."

"So he wanted to go out with me over a year ago?" Peyton rebuffed. And tried to kiss me a few months ago, she thought. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't feel that way now."

"You sure about that?"

"Do you really not trust me at all?"

"I trust you," he replied. "It's him I don't."

"So what's new?" she asked. "That's the same for every guy on the planet, friend or not. So basically you don't want me to have any guy friends."

"I didn't say that."

"Not outright, but it is what you're saying."

For a long while he stared down at the floor, not answering. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly when he finally spoke. "I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"It's ok," she replied.

"No, it's not. I just apologized for being a jackass, and there I go being one again."

"You're not being a jackass," she countered. "You're telling me how you feel. There's a difference."

"Thanks."

"You just need to trust me, ok?"

"I do, Peyt," he told her. "With everything. Well, except maybe that song."

"Maybe," she said impressively. "Now there's an improvement right there. There may be hope for my musically challenged fiancé yet."

He smiled at that. "That name has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"I do," she agreed. "And you'd better get used to hearing it cuz pretty soon the only thing we'll have to worry about is sneaking around behind my dad's back till we're eighteen and married."

"Sounds good. I hope you're right."

"Ain't I always?"

"Most of the time," he conceded. "Always might be pushing it though."

"Well, as long as I'm right on the important stuff. And just you wait, I'll make a music lover out of you yet."

"I like music, Peyt," he countered. "I think the word you're looking for is fanatic."

"Ok, yes, but, before you know it, you'll be as inspired by it as I am."

"Oh, you think so, huh?"

She nodded. "I figure it's bound to happen sooner or later, even if only by default from marrying into it."

He chuckled, and even though he didn't say so, as she continued her chatter on music, he thought he might actually be feeling its effects. Ok, not so much the music's, but her enthusiasm toward it. Her belief was so strong and immovable that he felt himself clinging on to it as tight as he could. It's what he wanted right now. And certainly what he needed.

…..

That feeling stayed with him and grew with each day she visited him. The last day she came, he was in such high spirits that all they did for the entire visit was flirt and tease each other. He still ragged on her about her insensible belief in a song, but in a playful manner.

She knew he still didn't really buy into it, but she also knew that he wanted to. Of course that was only because he needed that sense of hope right now, that feeling that there was a way out of this mess and that they would find it. She loved that she was able to give him that.

….

His hope began to falter on the following Tuesday—five days after closing arguments—when he was told that the jury was back. By the time he stepped into the courtroom, his heart pounded so fast, he thought it might burst right through his chest.

His lawyer told him to relax, that the D.A. had not proven its case; his dad insisted he had nothing to worry about, but these words did little to ease his anxiety. The only reprieve he got was when he glanced around the room and his eyes locked with Peyton's.

Behind him were his family and friends, but he could only look at her, smiling back slightly when she gave him an encouraging smile. Her eyes shone brightly and that somehow gave him strength. Beside her, Brooke was looking worried, which he could understand, and on her other side sat Damien. He still questioned his motives, but Nathan could safely say now that he really didn't have to worry there. Peyton only had eyes for him.

On the other side sat his opposers, and he tried hard not to look at them, though he couldn't help himself. Finally, his eyes rested on the jury, but he had to quickly turn back to Peyton to get back a sense of sanity. After all, these were the people who'd already decided his future.

….

Meanwhile Haley sat silently as they waited for the judge's appearance. Lucas had one arm around her shoulder while her mother sat to her other side, holding her hand comfortingly. She sucked in a nervous breath. Everything came down to this day. This day would determine whether or not Nathan would be punished for what he did to her, or walk away from it unscathed.

….

Lucas was thinking along those lines as well. He glared hard at his half-brother, venom in his eyes. At one time he'd wanted so badly to get to know him, but now all he wanted was for him to suffer for what he'd done to his poor, innocent Haley. Today they would know if he would pay for what he'd done or get away with it as he did everything else.

…..

Peyton watched Nathan as he glanced around the room, his body almost visibly shaking with fear. He seemed to calm though when their eyes met, for which she was glad. Herself, she was excited, and it showed on her face. This was the day she and Nathan would be together again without steel bars separating them. And if that damn judge would just get there, Nathan could finally breathe again and they could get on with it.

…..

Brooke grabbed hold of one best friend's hand as she watched the other with concern filling her hazel eyes. Nathan didn't deserve to be in this position and she silently prayed that he would be set free today. If not—well, she didn't even want to think about that.

She turned toward Peyton when she saw, from the corner of her eye, Damien put a hand on her leg, presumably in comfort. She couldn't help think that the guy had some nerve doing that with the girl's fiancé in the very same room—especially one with a problem temper like Nathan. Of course, there wasn't much Nathan could do at this point. And, as far as Brooke knew, Nathan wasn't even aware that Damien was after his girlfriend, which, in Brooke's eyes, was plain ridiculous since it was totally obvious. At least to her, it was.

…..

Dan and Deb sat beside Cooper and Jess, both of them looking content, if not even a little smug. Not because they didn't love their son, but because they were confident that their plan—well, Dan's plan, which he'd told her about—was foolproof. Today their boy would come home with them.

…..

Damien sat beside Peyton, doing his best to show the opposite of what he felt. It wasn't such a difficult task since he'd been doing it for nearly 3 years now. Today just might be the day he got rid of Nathan Scott for good. There would never be as good a day as this one.

….

"Docket number 65274, in the matter of Scott vs. the State of North Carolina, has the jury reached a verdict?" the judge asked once he'd arrived and all the preliminaries were followed.

"We have, Your Honor," was the reply he received.

The verdict sheet was thus brought up for the judge's view and then returned to the same juror who'd replied.

"Will the defendant please rise?" the judge asked, though it sounded more like a command than a question.

Nathan stood on shaky legs, not quite sure how he managed it with his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. His heart raced faster than he thought possible, his mouth was dry, and his palms sweat so bad he had to keep wiping them on his pants.

"On the sole count of the indictment, rape in the first degree, how do you find the defendant?" the judge asked.

His breath hitching in his throat, Nathan waited those long, excruciating seconds.

"We find the defendant….guilty."

A/N: I know, I know, not what you all wanted to happen, but all I can say is don't worry.