DISCLAIMER: I don't own Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. That'd be Dick Wolf and NBC. I'm just borrowing the characters, and I promise to return them by midnight, fed, clean, and unharmed. Mostly.

Elliot walked into the bull-pen and noted the gaggle of people crowded around the television on the wall.

He walked up behind Munch and Fin, who each turned to him with grim expressions on their faces.

An Asian woman reporter was standing on the steps of the courthouse that Donnelly worked in. The courthouse that Olivia was visiting.

"We've received word that one of the four hostages inside this courthouse is fatally injured, another suffering from a single stab wound to the stomach. We have reason to believe that the hostages are all members of law-enforcement." The woman raised a hand to her ear, pressing it to the earpiece Elliot knew was inside. "Yes, I've just been informed of the identities of each of the women. Assistant District Attorney Sonya Paxton, Defense Attorney Sophie Devere, The Honorable Judge Elizabeth Donnelly, and the fourth is a member of our very own Manhattan SVU, Detective Olivia Benson."
Elliot felt his stomach lurch. A roar swelled in his ears. He turned on his heel and left the squad-room. Munch and Fin turned to face their Captain and exchanged worried glances. After a brief moment, the three men hurried after him.

"What do you want from us?" Sophie asked, now kneeling beside Sonya and trying to assess the extent of her injuries without removing any of the Prosecutor's clothing. The man knelt down and picked up Olivia's gun from its place on the floor before tucking it into the waistband of his bloodstained jeans.

"I want you to feel the same pain that my brother did," he snarled.

Olivia leaned her head back against Liz and winced, a new layer of sweat joining the sheen coating her skin.
"Why wait," she began, then licked her lips. The pain in her side was horrible, but she refused to let him see it. Besides, she thought, Sonya's is probably much worse. She swallowed and leveled him with her best sympathetic gaze. "Why wait five years?"

The man crouched in front of her and caressed her cheek. Olivia flinched.

The man scowled and pressed his hand into the one she was using to cover her wound. She groaned through gritted teeth. He pressed harder, causing her to cry out, her face contorted in pain.

"My brother died last night, Detective," he whispered cruelly in her ear. "He was gang raped by his cell mates. Cause of death," (he punctuated this last half of his phrase by punching her wound-site and brushing his lips against her jawbone) "was internal bleeding."
Olivia screamed when the blow connected, her eyes squeezed shut, her nostrils flared, head thrown back against Donnelly's shoulder, her body rigid. The man stood and walked away from her. Olivia was panting, her throat muscles tensed, the ligaments and cartilage perfectly outlined.

"What about Sophie," she managed, her voice strained.

The man scratched his eyebrow with his thumbnail.

"What?"

Olivia swallowed again.

"You told us why you want everyone here," she grimaced and pulled her knee up to her chest, "except her."

Sophie was trembling, her hands covered in Sonya's blood. She kept her eyes on the older woman under her, the woman who was slipping away from them slowly.

Don't die, Sophie prayed silently. You're a heartless, mean, vindictive bitch and I know I can't stand you...hell, who can? But you don't deserve this. No one deserves this.

"She was his lawyer," the man scoffed.

"So let her go," Liz barked authoritatively. "She didn't hurt you, she didn't hurt anyone. She defended him, she's on your side."

"She failed!" he bellowed. The women jumped at the sudden outburst, Olivia wincing again. The man was pointing at Sophie with a shaking hand. "If she had succeeded, if she'd done her damn job, my brother would still be alive!"

"What was his name?" Sophie murmured, her head still down.

"What?" the man asked angrily.

"I defended I don't know how many men five years ago, you can't expect me to remember all of their names." Sophie met his eyes.

The man dropped his hand and pursed his lips.

"Jack Rollins," he replied.

Sonya coughed, scarlet foam coloring her lips.

"Guhh..." she moaned. Sophie brushed the woman's hair back from her face and shushed her.

"Grant Rollins," Liz growled.

The man snapped his head round to face her, glaring at her.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

"His name," she snapped, "was Grant Rollins. That makes you Jack, not him."

The man was shaking.

"You shut your mouth," he snarled.

"Why? So you can continue to lie to us? Who are we going to tell?" Liz glared at him in return. "We're all going to die anyway, right?"

Some sooner than others, Sophie thought, pressing her hands into Sonya's side trying to stem the flow of blood from the worst of the prosecutor's wounds.

Elliot stepped out of his town car and slammed the door. Fin pulled up right behind him. Munch and Cragen stepped out of the car he'd been driving, and Munch started in on him as soon as they were all out.

"You drive like a drunk, senile old woman. Never again, my friend, never again am I getting in a car with you behind the wheel."

"I got us here, didn't I?" Fin snapped, then jabbed his thumb in Elliot's direction. "Besides, how the hell you expect me to keep up with Mama Bear if I don't drive like him?"

"You follow the traffic laws!" Munch shouted back, leaning toward his partner. "At the very least you might try avoiding trash cans and little old ladies with strollers!"

"I'm gonna rip your big ears out your bony ass if you don't get out my face," Fin warned.

"I'd like to see you try!" Munch replied, jabbing the short man in the chest with his bony index finger. Fin swung at the older man, his fist just barely missing Munch's jaw.

"Hey!" Cragen shouted, stepping between the two of them and pushing them apart.

"Let me at 'im, Cap'n!" Fin roared, pushing his hands into the captain's arm.

"Stop it, stop it right now!" Cragen shoved Fin back. "Your colleague, your friend,is in that building right now, with a homicidal maniac. She might be fatally injured, and all you can seem to find the energy to do is kick each other's asses. If that's what you want to do, fine, but you'll hand over your badges and guns now,because I have a goddamn job to do and I refuse to let your incompetency cost me one of the best detectives I've ever had. Is that clear?"

Munch and Fin just stared at each other angrily.

"Is that clear?" Cragen bellowed, his face red.

"Yeah," Fin replied, his eyes never leaving his partner's. "We're clear."

Cragen turned to John, who nodded.

"Good," the captain grunted. "Then go do your fucking jobs."