After - The Society Fanfic.

25.

8:50am. Day of The Trial.

The noise in the church is not a saintly hum. It echoes off the walls as individuals grow louder, calling across to their friends, arguing about what the outcome will be. Member of The Guard line the back walls, surveying the crowd, trying to keep it calm. There's more of excitement in the air compared to the last trial. For some reason, this one seems more fun. However, deep down the individuals within this room understand it's not fun. This isn't pretend. And yet, what will the outcome be, if not a fake sentence? People murmur about grounding or garbage duty but is that really a real sentence. What else could they do? They can't kill them, can they? No. The crime doesn't fit that punishment. So, what's going to happen? How will they decide? The room is abuzz.

Two Guard members stand either side of the top table, two glasses and a jug of water sitting by a notepad, waiting for the judges. A microphone sits exactly in the middle. The jury has been placed in the back to keep them separate from the gossip. It's a futile effort. They've been gossiping for well over a week now. The jury's bias is already leaning.

The only commotion that has nothing to do with any of this is happening about one third away from the front. Becca and Sam sit, Eden tucked away in the sling. Those who had no idea Becca was even pregnant whispered on the edges of the crowd as numerous other flocked to them, to get a glance at the towns first child. Sam shifts uncomfortable, unable to keep up with the multitude of conversations around him. He sits slightly guarded, his body shifting as if to shield Becca and the baby slightly. Becca, although proud of her child, keeps a hand firmly around her baby. She moves the sling slightly so the audience can see her face but that's all. The girls aww and coo, complimenting both mother and child on how beautiful they all are. Becca had bothered to have a shower and put some of her nicer clothes on. With that said, not many of her actual nice clothes fit her, so she did her best.

The others are scattered throughout the room. Each sitting apprehensively. Kelly sits, tension in her shoulders, staring intently at the judge's table. Almost a statue, she doesn't move. In contrast, Gordie nervously fidgets with his sleeve, glancing at every individual in the room.

Luke sat in the front pew, staring into his hands. Clark and Jason, surprisingly relaxed, sit on either side. Clark glances at Gwen every now and then smiling. She can't tell whether it's meant to provoke her or whether he's actually trying to be nice. She can no longer tell with him. Gwen doesn't have time to worry about Clark, however. She stares directly in front of her at Grizz. He taps his pen against a notepad, rehearsing the questions over and over again. She'd tried to speak to him before they had gotten here but both had never found the time. People whispered behind her, his name popping up a few times. She tries to hear what they're saying but there's too much static coming from everyone else to make sense of it. She slumps back against the hard-wooden bench. She really wished there was a comfier place to hold these trials.

The doors open. Silence sweeps the hall. They all turn as Lexie, Harry, Campbell, Allie, Helena and Will enter the church. Lexie leads them. Gwen's eyebrows raise as she looks her up and down. All black, all moody. Her stern face sets the tone for how merciful she is willing to be. She strides with the most confidence, always staying ahead of everyone. Campbell's cocky grin is flashed at everyone as he walks as close as he can get to Lexie. He sits in front of Luke. The prosecution. Well fuck. Helena swiftly walks down the aisle, glancing back towards Allie and Will, making sure they're both okay. Will keeps his head forward but up, never looking down, not showing shame. He's got nothing to be ashamed of right now. He has committed no crime. Allie, however, is slightly hunched. She doesn't exude the same confidence as the others do. She instead glances back towards the last to enter the room. Harry. Hair slightly dishevelled, as is the rest of his appearance. Five o'clock shadow carving out his bone structure, shirt tucked in but unbuttoned with no tie. He seems as if he's had no sleep. In fact, it's like he's hadn't slept in ages. Gwen's brow furrows as she watches everyone take their seats. Harry's eyes linger on Allie who avoids his gaze.