Remember me, Mr. Barba?
Barba was feeling as though this day would never end. He was thoroughly exhausted already and his day wasn't even close to being over. Glancing at his watch as he strode into the precinct he counted down the hours until he could be at home in bed. All he needed was a decent nights sleep. It's 8:00 now, meeting with the SVU detectives shouldn't take more than an hour, then I can head home, work for another hour or two and finally get some sleep. He groaned, sleep was a rare commodity for him these days. He needed sleep, or maybe a coffee. A coffee would be the pick up he needed right around now. These long days are killing me. Barba couldn't supress his yawn as he rode the elevator up to the squad room. Hopefully this doesn't take too long.
Barba tried his best to be attentive and insightful as he and the SVU discussed the particulars of their current case, but his stifled yawns and eye rubbing were giving him up.
"Barba, go home and get some rest. We can work this out in the morning," Benson practically ordered him.
He briefly considered her suggestion; he knew that it was probably wise advice, but decided against it. He wasn't the type of man to put off work until "tomorrow".
"I'll have time to sleep when I'm retired, sergeant." Barba reached his hands up to his face and massaged his temples. He met Benson's gaze directly and narrowed his eyes. "Besides, I only take orders from the D.A." he added, smiling. "However, I am going to get a coffee. Anyone else want anything?"
"Planning an all nighter counselor?" laughed Fin, as Munch wrote down the squad's orders and handed it to him.
Barba left his briefcase on Fin's desk, slipped his jacket on and grabbed his cell phone as he politely declined Captain Cragens offer of cash.
"Hey Barba," called Benson, "thanks!"
Barba turned and nodded at Benson and set on his way. He felt a pang of guilt over displaying his exhaustion in front of the squad. There they all were, still working, not complaining and surely they were tired as well. You're not the only one with long days.
The outside air was cool and the recent rain left the air rather refreshing. It was just what he needed. Maybe he should try getting fresh air more often he pondered as he made his way to the closest coffee shop, just a few blocks away. Walking along the now quietened streets, he contemplated the case he was working on. It was complex and he was having an unusually difficult time figuring out how the D.A. wanted him to handle it. It'll come to me, he reassured himself as he walked into the coffee shop and placed the order. Damn! How the hell am I going to walk with five coffees? Sighing to himself he flashed upon his previous thought that he should have just headed home instead. Too late now, he lamented, as he clumsily balanced the fifth coffee on top the four sitting snuggly in the take-out tray and paid. He smiled and nodded thanks to the woman who held the door for him as he left the shop and began his walk back to work.
Striding carefully so not to splash any coffee on him, he had an odd sensation that he was being followed. He had noticed a man behind him on his way to pick up the coffee, and then thought he saw the same person across from the coffee shop on his way out. Now he thought he could hear footsteps behind him. God, now you're being ridiculous. Nevertheless, he cautiously picked up his pace, still being mindful of the coffees he was awkwardly carrying. As he continued he checked out the reflections in the store fronts and realized that there was no one behind him.
He allowed his mind wander back to the case he was working on. Still no epiphany yet, but once he finished his coffee and got back to work, it would come to him. That was a fact he was certain of. Barba worked hard on all of his cases, but this particular one was tougher than usual. As he carried on, his thoughts now immersed on strategies potentially useful to his case, he didn't notice that the man he had seen earlier was now walking briskly and deliberately in his direction.
Suddenly, the coffee Barba was carrying violently splashed up into his face, scalding him slightly as it trickled down his neck and seeped into his clothes. It took him a moment to process what had just happened, and for an instant, he was worried about his suit and whether or not the coffee would come out in dry cleaning. That thought didn't last for more than a moment, and he soon realized that a coffee stained suit was the very least of his problems. He had been so immersed in his thoughts that he hadn't even seen that a man had purposefully knocked the tray out of his hands.
A fist came from seemingly out of nowhere and connected with Barba's cheek with such force that it spun him around and nearly knocked him over. Gasping with shock, he had no time to react. There was no time to even steady himself before the next punch hit him. Then another punch, and another. Although his vision was now blurred with tears of pain and shock, he recognized his attacker as the man he had earlier suspected of following him.
Barba realized that he was physically no match for this assailant so he took an opportunity to try and run. He wasn't fast enough though, and the man grabbed Barba by the back of his jacket. He managed to break free from his hold, shedding his jacket in the process. Still, not fast enough. The man threw the jacket to the ground, lurched forward, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the narrow alley between two buildings, out of view from anyone passing by. Barba knew that this meant that no one would witness this assault which also meant no one would be able to help. Everything was happening so fast. He had no time to come up with a plan to get away from whomever this person was. Hell, he didn't even have time to defend himself against the relentless flurry of assaults. The man threw Barba to the ground, grabbed his arm, yanked him upright and hurled him to the ground again. A series of kicks to his stomach and groin followed. Barba rolled away but the man jerked him upright once more and slammed him against the side of a building. The assailant held him up roughly by his shirt collar and bent down to stare at Barba in the eyes. He roughly pulled Barba towards him, and then pushed him back. Barba felt the course texture of the brick grinding against his head and back. The noise the rough brick made against his scalp echoed in his head. His entire body began to shake from pain, and he closed his eyes. What did this man want with me?
Weakly, and with false optimism, Barba said, "My wallet is in my jacket." He suspected the man wasn't after his wallet. Still, he managed to muster a hopeful glance at the attacker.
The man pressed Barba harder into the wall and growled into his ear, "Remember me Mr. Barba?"
Barba let out a tiny groan. He had no idea who this man was, or what he wanted. "No," he said weakly, "I'm sorry I don't." Barba realized despite his pain, that quite possibly the only way to get out of this situation would be to try and placate the assailant.
"Is that so Mr. Barba? Is that the way you go through life, forgetting about people you screwed over in the past?"
Barba was again jerked forward and slammed back against the wall, his head making a sickening thudding sound. He was now starting to feel very weak and dizzy. Who is this person? Why is this happening?
The man again bent down and met Barba's eyes with his own and snarled, "You ruined my friend's life, and you think I want your wallet? My friend is like my brother, you understand? You are going to pay with more than your wallet. You fucking little asshole."
"I'm so sorry," Barba shakily replied, blinking his eyes to try and clear the tears from them. "I'll make it up to you. Anything. I promise. I promise."
"I don't think you can. You piece of shit. You've caused too much trouble to make anything up. You little fucker, you don't even know what you've done do you? You don't even know who I am, you little prick." The attacker, gripping Barba by his shirt collar, drew him close so that their faces were mere inches apart.
Barba winced and begged for forgiveness and repeatedly apologized, not something he was prone to doing, but he had no other options. He didn't know what to say to calm the enraged attacker. He began to wonder if he would survive. He rapidly racked his brain and tried to remember this man, to try to appease him, but he was coming up with nothing.
Barba could not have known how very wrong it was of him to apologise again and again; he only succeeded in enraging the assailant further. The man grabbed Barba's throat with both hands and squeezed while pounding his head into the wall. Barba closed his eyes, feeling blood trickling down the back of his neck, wondering if he was going to die. So this is how my story ends. I'm going to die at the hands of a crazed, unknown assailant in a narrow back lane.
"You're sorry? You're so sorry?" the man hissed in his ear. "You don't even know what you should be sorry for Mr. Barba. You must be a fucking liar if you don't even know what you're sorry for. You have no fucking idea."
"P please. S stop," Barba begged weakly.
The man suddenly let go of Barba's neck, laughing. He put his hands on the building, trapping the smaller man between his outstretched arms. Barba put his hands up to his throbbing head, still thinking clearly enough to wonder what was so funny. He looked up at the man and only then realized how tall he was, his head not even reaching the shoulders of the other man. Obviously, there was no getting out of this unless the man decided to let him go.
Still laughing, the man mockingly repeated Barba's words, "P please. S stop. P please. S stop." He once again bent down to Barba's eye level. "Aww. What's the matter? You're crying. Have you had enough of our little game? You want me to let you go? Poor Mr. Barba, I didn't mean to make you cry." He slapped him across the face so hard that the strike sounded like a whip cracking. The attacker was clearly enjoying the power he possessed over him.
Barba tried to not let his eyes tear up again. Don't cry, don't show weakness. He averted his eyes, but despite his best efforts tears welled in his eyes again.
"Please. Stop," the man repeated again with an evil grin on his face. "You know what Barba? That's what my friend says when he's someone's prison bitch. And guess what you little fucking asshole? You sent him there. You know what? They don't stop. And guess what else?"
Barba shuddered, willing with all his might that the man wouldn't say the words he knew were coming.
"Now, you're my bitch. And now, you're gonna find out what that feels like."
With that the man dragged him a little further down the alley towards a doorway of an old building. He tossed him to the ground like a rag-doll. Barba made a feeble attempt to stand up but fell back to the ground and rolled onto his back. He managed to partially sit up and looked up at the man standing over him, laughing. The man was speaking to him, in a strangely calm manner. Barba's head was pounding, and he couldn't make out what he said. The man took his foot and pressed it against his chest, pressing him down to the ground. Barba closed his eyes, his entire body throbbed in pain.
"Take off your pants," he demanded as he began unzipping his own filthy jeans and slid them down to his knees.
Barba struggled again to try and stand up, but fell backwards again.
"I said, take off your pants!" yelling this time.
Barba rolled to his stomach and tried to crawl away. It was a pathetic attempt, he knew that, but he had to try.
The man grew frustrated and bent over Barba and hauled him up to his feet. He held Barba upright with one arm around his chest and used his other hand to undo Barba's belt and slacks. He yanked off Barba's suspenders and flung them away. Barba wriggled around in a futile attempt to free himself from the mans grasp. The man was too strong and all of the kicking and writhing Barba did just made the man laugh. No, no, no. This can't be happening to me. What's wrong with me? I couldn't even defend myself. I didn't even try! I should have tried to fight.
The man scooped up Barba's legs and cradled him briefly before dropping him to the ground. He squirmed on the cold, wet pavement as his attacker yanked off his pants and boxers. Barba groaned as the man then sat down on stomach, grabbed the fabric of his shirt and ripped it open. Next, he removed Barba's tie and snapped it in his terrified face. The weight of the man on his stomach made it hard to breathe, he could feel himself gasping for air and beginning to hyperventilate. Tears were now freely flowing from his eyes, as he anticipated the horror of what was to come. The man leaned over and kissed him roughly.
"This is nice hey?" he panted in Barba's ear, "mmm you taste sooo sweet. I don't usually do guys, but I like you."
Barba squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head to avoid the aggressive mouth invading his own. The man cupped Barba's chin, turned his head back and continued kissing him, causing Barba to gag as the other man's tongue jabbed at Barba's throat. The man smelled of booze, cigarette smoke and sweat. Make this stop, God please make this stop! Barba shook with sobs as the man caressed his cheeks and stroked his hair with a calloused hand.
The man stood up and pushed down his underwear. He crouched down and flipped Barba onto his stomach. Barba begged for him to stop to no avail. The man sat on top of him and wrapped the tie around Barba's neck.
"If you scream, I'll choke the fuck out of you," the man said as he yanked on the ligature. "So just stop crying, relax and enjoy Mr. Barba."
He heard the man spit and rub his hands together. Barba winced, knowing what was to come. I'm being raped. I'm being raped. How can this happen? It was all too frightening and confusing for him to comprehend. People are going to find out about this. Everyone will know. Everyone will think that I let it happen. Maybe I can pretend like nothing happened, if I live. If I die they will find my body and everyone will know.
Barba gasped when the assailant penetrated him. The pain was unbearable and he couldn't help but to let out a scream. The man pulled hard on the tie and momentarily covered Barba's mouth with his hand smothering the cries of pain. He let go of the tie and dug his fingers into Barba's arms, pinning him to the ground. Gravel from the street scraped against Barba's exposed flesh as the man pounded into him over and over. Jumbled thoughts came and went from Barba's mind, Why is this happening to me? I'm a man and I couldn't fight him off. When will this end? Most of the time though, Barba couldn't think much of anything, the pain was too great. All Barba could do was try to catch his breath in between sobs. He was finding it hard to breath again, and wondered when the end would finally come. Just let him do what he wants, maybe he won't kill me.
"Not such a hot-shot lawyer now are you Mr. Barba? I guess your fancy job and your expensive suits aren't helping you now are they? Who is in control of who now hey?" the man snarled, awaiting a reply.
"I asked you, who is in control now?" he asked, jerking the tie.
It took all of Barba's energy to let out a whisper, "You are."
The man laughed roughly. "That's right, counselor, that's right."
Barba felt himself slipping away and resigned himself to what was happening. Feelings of humiliation and shame consumed him. Barba had no idea how long the attack had already lasted for, and nothing was making any sense. He could hear the man breathing and groaning on top of him. He felt his hips being ground into the pavement with each thrust, and his entire body was racked with pain.
"You like this?"
"N no," Barba breathed back. The tie became tighter again. "Yes?"
"Yes, what?" the man demanded.
"Yes, I like it."
"I do too, Rafi. You feel so good."
Barba began drifting in and out of awareness. Suddenly, Barba felt no pain and for a moment, he observed the attack from above. He saw a man whose back was glistening with sweat, thrusting into a small man with dark hair and pale skin. That looks like me. That is me. It can't be. He's being raped. He looks so helpless and small. It was both horrifying and peaceful. The vision was a nightmare, but at least there was no pain.
When it was finally over, the man collapsed on top of him, panting, the wetness of his sweat making Barba cold. He lay on top of Barba for a while before getting up.
"So you probably thought I was going to kill you hey?" he said as he pulled up his jeans. "Nah, you're much more fun alive. God, you were a better lay than I thought. Bit of a baby though. All of that crying? I was surprised by that. Not much fight in you is there? Not such a tough attorney. Now, I'm gonna let you live so that you can think back and remember the good time we had tonight and so that we can do this again sometime soon. In fact, I'm gonna call your cop friends to come and get you. Next time Rafi, no crying." the man laughed in Barba's ear and tapped his cheek, "You had a good time? I did. And now you will know what it's like to look forward to being someone's bitch. That's what it's like for my brother. And now you know will know what that feels like too."
He opened his eyes and saw the man holding a cell phone, "Now, Mr. Barba. Let's see. Who should we tell about the terrific little fuck you are. Hmmm... Benson? Is that the bitch detective? Well lets give her a call shall we? I'll let her know about our little date we just had. I'm sure your cop friends are going to be interested," he hissed, "Maybe some of them would like to test you out too. Maybe the black guy. Fin? He might want a round with you. He looks like a man who enjoys a good fuck. I'll let him know how you taste so sweet. I'm sure he'd love to get into your pants. Or maybe the old captain? Maybe he likes to fuck crying little babies like you."
He knelt down close to Barba and scrolled though the phones contact list. "Hello... No, sorry this isn't Barba. Is this Benson? Yes? Well your little lawyer friend probably needs your help right about now. He's in, quite a state." He held the phone to Barba's mouth so Benson could hear the groans and chocked sobbing sounds escaping Barba. "Yes, yes, you'll find him. An alley way or two over from where you are. He almost made it back. So close, yet so far." His voice sounded joyful as he taunted the sergeant and stood up. He continued the phone conversation as he walked away, leaving Barba lying shivering and clad in only a torn undershirt.
Barba was aware enough to see the man walk and then run away. He suddenly felt his teeth chattering and realized how cold he was. He knew he was partially lying in a puddle, but he had no energy to move or to even roll over. His eyes closed, his body shuddered, he couldn't even cry anymore, there was not one ounce of energy left within him. Then, nothingness took over.
