A/N: No, your eyes don't deceive you! I've finally updated this fic! It's no longer three parts because I was sorely mistaken at the amount of crap I thought I could fit into three chapters. I know where I want to go with this, so hang in there with me! Enjoy!

1:05 p.m.

His teeth are clenched so tightly beneath the duct tape; he thinks his gums might start to bleed.

Harsh breaths puff out from his flared nostrils as he struggles against the thick rope tying his hands to the bolted down prosecution table he'd been sitting at only an hour earlier.

At least, he thought it had been an hour. It could have been ten minutes for all he knew. Black dots were still dancing in his vision, forcing his rapidly blinking eyes to try and focus on something. Anything.

"Calm down, Mr. Barba…," a soft voice whispers against his ear as a heavy weight settles on the backs of his thighs, "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

He howls under the tape, the muffled noise mingling with the terrified screams and loud, booming voices just outside of the large double doors of the court room. In the farther distance, the sounds of police sirens blaring through the skyscraper laden streets sound so small in comparison to the gunshots that still rang in his ears.

He can still feel the cold metal pressed against his temple and the subsequent feeling of terror enveloping his entire body. The look in Liv's eyes and everyone else's as they realized what was going on still replayed in his mind's eye on a loop.

Who knows how long he's been on the floor, tied up like a prisoner, but it felt like ages.

"I'm not afraid of death, Mr. Barba."

He tries to yank his hands free again, but the rope cuts and chafes painfully against his wrists. His feet are bound as well, but he kicks them, trying to throw the body that shifted and rubbed against his backside in an uncomfortably familiar pattern of movement.

"I'm not afraid of lawyers or cops…or politicians or rapists like myself…"

Hands like snakes tug on his belt and the sickening feeling that sinks into his stomach isn't familiar yet it is. He's never been in this situation simply because his environment never allowed him to be. But, he's advocated for enough unfortunate souls to know that feeling of helplessness seep into every crevice of your body and soul. It was a feeling he experienced second hand that he was now experiencing first.

"…what I am afraid of…is missed opportunities…"

The familiar sting of behind his eyes glossed over his green orbs, blurring his vision with unshed tears, blocking out the scuffed, tiled floor and hardwood benches. Two things familiar to him; this was an environment he'd grown to feel comfortable in over the years. Every time he stepped foot into a room like this, he took command, feeling like he was right at home with a bunch of guests sitting in his living room and watching him talk.

"…missed chances with…such beautiful individuals…"

Hands slipped down to his hips and yanked him up despite the desperate movements to get away from this man on top of him. He felt the cold caress of smooth palms trail over his stomach as his dress and undershirt were pulled free form his slacks. Then, the rough pull of his belt buckle being undone, scraping against the floor and his skin as it was yanked out from underneath him.

"…you, Mr. Barba…you are an opportunity I don't plan on missing…"

He ceased his movements, the tears slipping down his cheeks as he pressed his hot face to the cold floor, taking comfort in the solid and familiar pattern of the tile as he felt his pants being undone and the weight of the body on top of him pressing harder down onto his back.

Two and a Half Hours Earlier – 10:30 a.m.

Did he really want to do this?

Was it worth potentially dying for?

He had such a long life ahead of him. Only 20 years old and already he was throwing his life down the drain because of something fucked up and wrong he did just a few months ago. So wrong. So, so wrong and it was found out by that fucking freak in the court house just a few feet from where he stood.

Meeting Blake Bernaky was a cursed day. That house party he went to, promises of free booze and drugs…all he wanted was to get high. Had he known the host of the party was incredibly smart, with too much free time and loads of money, he would have stayed away. The ability to see the future would have come in handy, that was a given.

"This is dumb," he whispered to himself, the sounds of the busy city around him drowned out his voice. Nothing he said was going to matter. He was too far deep into this web of deceit and lies and trickery. He was doing this to save his skin, and yet, he'd rather commit himself to prison, because that's where he truly belonged.

"Get your shit," the rough voice behind him growled, grabbing onto the back of his shirt to swing him around. This big, burly man, whose hands had traveled down his leg on the way here, was despicable and not sorry for the acts he'd committed. Another woman, a drug addict, was bent over in the backseat of those broken-down car, snorting a white, powdery line against a dirty mirror. The pink haired man next to her going next.

They looked rag-tag, wearing dark, baggy clothes. They had masks and gang affiliated gear, guns shoved into the back of their pants and a large duffel bag of semi-automatic weapons they would use to open fire.

It was a long walk up the steps of the court house, moving in slow motion. Banded together, these four people brought under the same blackmail Blake Bernaky used against them. Four people who did terrible things, singled out by one psycho who could spot them in a crowd.

The stopped in the middle of the steps and turned, back facing towards the glass doors of the court house as the masked themselves. Burly man pulled a rifle from his bag and fired a booming warning shot out into the street, people on the sidewalks ducking and running and screaming for their lives.

It took only two minutes to walk the rest of the way up the court house steps, five seconds to kill the two officers guarding the outside of the building. It took a good ten minutes to shoot up the lobby, bullets and blood flying, the screaming intensified as bodies scattered and tried to run for cover.

Tears wet the black beanie over his face as they edged towards the elevator, the floor number engrained into their brains along with the plan as soon as they stepped foot on the tiled floor.

God help them all.

11:00 a.m. – Tow Hours Earlier

The bang outside of the court house was dulled, but noticeable over Buchanan's booming voice, and the large lawyer faltered in his cross with Carisi. Liv glanced behind her shoulder, seeing a guard slip out of the door to, presumably, check out the source of the noisy interruption. Most likely a car crash with some idiot, out-of-town driver cruising down the busy streets without knowledge of the roads.

Liv couldn't be bothered to be concerned with it, too busy trying to focus in on the intense cross-examination Buchanan was beating her detective with. Too many times she saw Rafael's hand curl into a ball, fingernails biting into his palm. He had a bad habit of doing that. Once, he squeezed so hard, he punctured his skin and drew blood.

She hoped he wouldn't do that. There was so much riding on this case, including his sanity, and there was no telling what the jury was going to hand down…not with the way this morning had been going.

Back and forth, two steps forward on one side, the other bringing it three steps back. The volleys and objections were in the thirties and they'd already approached the bench at least twice. Never had she been in such a twisting, court room brawl, let alone see her man so affected. Usually, he had that air of confidence surrounding him; it was impenetrable, except for the few times it became personal and brought up feelings he didn't like to deal with, but this wasn't a form of Rafael she'd seen in trial before.

"That will be all, your honor."

Buchanan sent a cheerful smile at Rafael and Carisi slumped in his seat before he stood and walked back to the bench, refusing to look at the tense ADA for fear of retaliation. She patted him on the arm as he slipped past her and Amanda, taking his open seat next to Fin. Rafael dipped his head, shuffling papers around in front of him as he tried to recoup his thoughts and stutter out his next witness. Just one more before he questioned Bernaky himself.

Speaking of Bernaky…

Liv could see the young man smiling, like he had all morning in that unnerving, creepy expression. The way his lips parted and his impeccably straight, white teeth wormed its way under her skin, crawling along her veins and piercing her gut. There was true evil in that smile, she just knew it. She hope and prayed he would go away for a long, long time…

The silence in the court was disrupted again by more noise, but this time, it came in a series of rapid pops, and the muffled screams of people just a few floors below them. This caught her attention completely, as well as the entirety of the court room she sat in.

"Bailiff," Judge Barth nodded towards one of the burly men in the corner. One man she recognized, having been a decorated officer turned court bailiff, but the other…he seemed off to her as well. With practically a honorary degree in body language, this unknown bailiff's eyes flicked back and forth rapidly between Bernaky and the floor. He stood rigid as his partner passed him and walked out of the court room, radio to his mouth and asking for an update.

Judge Barth looked on concerned, reprimanding the court room for breaking out into harsh whispers as the screaming grew louder. Liv stood as Rafael turned to her, concern etched into the lines of his face. Carisi pushed past her on the bench, Fin hot on his heels.

The popping noises and the screams grew louder, until they were right underneath her feet, vibrating from the floor and up her legs. She stepped out of the bench after Fin and Carisi, Amanda following. As she past a few concerned onlookers, she reminded them to stay seated and quite, already working on pulling her side arm out of its holster.

"Liv," Rafael called and she glanced behind her, catching his green eyes immediately. His hands were curled into fists again, breathing heavily and brow furrowed. It was a look she was used to seeing from him; when the anxiety was too much and he was about to snap on someone. She'd seen it numerous times since they started dating, when she was put into dangerous situations or a suspect was being particularly nasty.

"It's fine," she said to him and then louder for everyone else, doing her best to keep the situation calm enough the no one would rise in a panic. The last thing anyone needed was to panic.

Just then, the blaring radio from the bailiff still standing still at his post erupted into a loud, static yell, pained voice and screaming for backup echoing in the small court room. Liv, with one arm holding open the door to the hallway, startled and swung around, honing in on the noise ricocheting of the walls of the room.

Screams, amplified and distorted, the constant popping noises just under her feet were gunshots. She could feel it in her body and so could Amanda, who stood just next to her. The radio continued to blare, the guard, who was standing stock still raised his hands and carefully shut it off, eyes distant.

"Let's go," Liv turned and took one step out of the door as a loud shot rang out, sending Carisi, who'd been just out in the hallway, feet from her, looking out the window, flying to the floor, blood splattering as he yelped. Liv's gasp caught in her throat, Amanda pushing her to her knees behind her. Fin raised his gun immediately from his position just in front of Liv, but quickly dismissed the notion of firing back. His eyes widened and he dropped his gun, his forefinger catching it as it swung loosely in the air.

Loud footsteps were drowned out by the sound of the terrified screams in the court room and all too soon, there was the barrel of a gun pointed in her face, pressed against her cheek. Liv looked up through her eyelashes, not daring to move even an inch. She breathed harshly, seeing a masked face yelling at her to get up and move.

Liv took a second to gather her bearings, seeing Fin being pushed to the ground by another large man in a mask, gun pointed at his head. Carisi lie just beyond, writhing and groaning in pain. She could only see his legs, but she could see the muscles tensing in them as he tried to gather himself.

Amanda grabbed onto her arms and helped her up, her fingers biting into the fabric of her blazer.

"Get the fuck on!"

Liv spun around, grabbing and holding onto Amanda as they turned to face the terrified court room viewers. Her eyes met Rafael's and her heart nearly stopped in her chest at the sight of yet another gun resting against his temple.

He stood still as the burly bailiff calmly exchanged a knowing, grim faced nod with Bernaky, who stood with the smug grin and came to a stop directly next to the bailiff. Rafael turned his head slightly, body stiff as a board, but his remained trained on Liv, just feet from him.

The barrel of the automatic weapon pressed harshly into her back and the women took a few staggering steps forward as a few more gun toting, masked figures poured into the court room doors, weapons held and at the ready.

Blood rushed in her ears, drowning out the sound, as her eyes darted around the room, the pleading stares of the civilians looking to her for guidance. She anchored herself to the feeling of Amanda's nails still digging into her arm, locking eyes once more with Rafael and Bernaky's fingers tracing along his cheek.