Thank you for reading and reviewing! I know the last chapter shocked quite a few of you, I do hope you'll forgive me for putting our beloved Ichigo through all this.

Here goes…

Renji sighed into his palms as he sat in a chair next to Ichigo's bed. He'd lost track of time, but he guessed that it was now close to four in the morning. Ichigo was fast asleep, curled so tightly under the covers that only a small tuft of his orange hair was visible.

For the past few hours, Renji had been torn between sobbing in relief and shivering in disgust, and in the end had settled for a mixture of both. Last night, when he finally realized that he couldn't do anything to stop Shuuhei, he had fallen to his knees and begged the man not to hurt the boy. It felt surreal, like he was negotiating with the devil for a lighter sentence in hell. Rough or gentle, long or brief, Renji could not deny that it was not any less of a violation on Ichigo. But he had done it anyway.

Shuuhei had laughed in his face, called him a disgrace to the Kuchiki family and many other things that would have riled him in the past, and when it didn't work this time, Shuuhei finally stopped using that to taunt him. What he said next, though, was even worse.

"Now, why would I break my favorite toy?" Shuuhei had said, caressing Ichigo's thigh almost lovingly. "I'm not tired of him yet."

Renji knew he shouldn't feel thankful, but at least Shuuhei had stuck to his word after that. He was eerily gentle, handling the unconscious young man like a delicate doll. Renji couldn't explain why, but that just made him feel even sicker. By the time Shuuhei was fully sated, it was already nearly two in the morning. Then, he had left Ichigo half-dressed on the bed and told Renji to get the fuck out of his house, leaving Renji no choice but to call a cab to take them back to Ichigo's dormitory.

Before Shuuhei left the room, he whispered into Renji's ear, "I expect him to be here same time next Friday."

Renji was too tired and shocked to say anything at the time, but now that he was left alone to his own thoughts in Ichigo's room, the severity of the situation finally hit him. This was getting out of hand, he felt like he was trapped in quicksand, and he was quickly being sucked deeper and deeper into it. What had started as a simple, selfish act on his end had now blown into something that he could no longer control.

The door suddenly swung inwards, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with brown wavy hair stepped in. His eyebrows shot up as he took in the sight of Renji sitting next to Ichigo's bed, then his eyes went to the sleeping form beneath the covers. His lips pursed into a thin, hard line.

Yanked suddenly from his deep thoughts, it took Renji a few beats to recognize the man. "S-starkk," Renji blurted.

The older man gave him a once-over, then said in a tired voice, "Kid got drunk again?"

Not trusting himself to speak properly, Renji simply nodded.

Starrk went to his own bed and sat down at the edge of the mattress. His eyes rested on Ichigo for a few seconds, then he turned to Renji. "He just doesn't learn, does he?" he asked with a shake of his head.

Renji swallowed, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Starrk carried himself with a laid-back, easygoing air, but his eyes bored into Renji's skull with an intensity that sent a chill down Renji's spine.

"You're Renji, right?" Starrk asked casually.

Renji nodded.

Starrk smiled. "He talks about you a lot," he commented. He let that hang in the air for a few seconds, and then as Renji started to sweat, Starrk continued, "He talks in his sleep sometimes. Nightmares." His eyes darkened suddenly, and then he leaned forward.

Renji unconsciously sat back in his chair.

"You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with his…condition, would you?" Starrk went on softly.

Renji averted his eyes, only to find himself looking at Ichigo. A rush of shame, anger, and pain hit Renji squarely in the chest, and something inside of him snapped.

"Yes, I do."

By the time Renji finished the story, his body was shaking uncontrollably. He tried his best to remain calm, but he couldn't stop the tremor that had crept into his voice. Starrk's face became darker and darker as he listened, and when Renji finally stopped speaking, the empty soda can in Starrk's fist had been crushed into a crumpled ball of aluminum.

For the longest time, the two of them sat in silence. They were in one of the smaller study rooms in the basement of the dormitory hall, where they could talk in private. As tension hung heavily in the air, Renji buried his face in his palms and took in shaky breaths, his hands ice cold and unsteady. He'd done it. He'd finally done what he should have done since the very beginning.

"Robbery and grand theft auto." Starrk sighed. When Renji nodded wordlessly, Starrk threw the ruined soda can towards the small garbage bin against the wall. There was a light thunk as the can hit the bottom of the metal container.

There was another long stretch of tense silence, until Starrk finally stirred and leaned forward.

"You do know that you will be held responsible for your part in this, yes?" Starrk asked quietly, looking intently at the younger man. "We can probably work something out to lighten your sentence, but I can't guarantee that."

Renji nodded. It was strange how he no longer cared now. He felt detached, numb. His life as he knew it was over, and to his surprise, he felt better than he had in years.

Starrk uncrossed his legs and pulled out his cell phone. "I'm going to call my mentor now," he explained.

Renji nodded again, grateful for the gentleness in Starrk's voice, something which he knew he didn't deserve.

Starrk straightened up when his call was picked up, and he spoke softly into his phone. Earlier, the first thing Starrk told him after he led Renji into this room was that he was getting his doctorate in Criminology, and that one of his mentors was a captain on the police force. He also told Renji that he should ask for a lawyer before he said anything. Renji had declined without a thought. Perhaps it was stupid to do so, but he didn't care, he was done protecting himself.

"Yes, I'll bring him in now," Starrk finished, then he hung up. With a sigh, he stood up and turned to Renji. "Let's go."

"No," Renji said firmly, his nostrils flaring as he fought the urge to spit at the man sitting across the table. His nails were starting to dig rather painfully into his palm as he tightened his fists, but the pain was nothing compared to the disbelief and anger he was feeling now.

Across the table, the man leaned forward. "To ensure a conviction, we need to do this," he said soothingly. "We have no evidence-"

Renji pounded his fist on the table, causing their coffee cups to slide a few inches across the smooth surface. "Fuck you! Test his blood for the drug, check for bodily fluids! My testimony!"

The man sighed and ran his fingers through his shaggy blond hair. "Number one, Abarai-san," he said in a tired tone. "It has been almost twenty four hours since the drug was ingested, any traces of the drug in his system would be difficult to detect and may not hold up in court, and even if it does, we have no proof that it had been administered by Hisagi-san."

He paused and looked intently at Renji to make sure that the younger man was listening. Renji nodded grudgingly.

"Number two," the blonde continued. "According to your testimony, he used condoms."

"There has got to be something," Renji insisted.

"Please understand, Abarai-san," the man said patiently. "If there is any, it would be minimal, and like I said, may not hold up in court. As for your testimony, it's your word against his, and if you'll excuse me for being frank, with your record…"

Renji clenched his jaw.

"I'm not saying that I don't believe you," the blonde said. "Based on my experience, I can tell you that we do not have enough to get a definite conviction."

Renji slumped in his seat, devastated. Captain Urahara's suggestion was unacceptable in his mind. It would defeat the purpose of him coming forward in the first place, and worse of all, it would put Ichigo in danger.

Starrk leaned back into his chair and looked at his mentor. "How can we be sure that the kid will not be harmed?"

The older man leaned forward once more and laid his hands on the table. "Here is what we'll do."

Ichigo was already awake by the time Renji returned from the police station, and, as Renji and Starrk had expected, had no recollection of last night's events. He did, however, argue adamantly that he hadn't had any alcohol. Renji had to fight the urge to throw up as he blatantly lied to the boy, again, that Ichigo did in fact drink. By the end of their argument, Ichigo was thoroughly confused and upset.

Then came the toughest part: Renji was to invite him to go to Shuuhei's house that Friday. It took a lot of persuading, but after Renji promised - nearly biting through his own tongue as he did so - that he would make sure that Ichigo wouldn't touch a single drop of alcohol that night, Ichigo had reluctantly agreed to go.

"You're such an asshole," he had grumbled.

Despite the name-calling, Renji detected a trace of playfulness in the boy's tone, and it had taken all of his will to not break down in front of Ichigo right then and there. He could tell that the kid was freaked out and antsy. Ichigo was trying to act tough, but any idiot could see through his facade. Who wouldn't be afraid after waking up - yet again - with no memory of a supposedly great night of partying?

What Renji didn't understand was why the boy continued to believe and trust him. He would've thought that after all this, Ichigo would at least suspect that Renji had something to do with his problems. A part of him wanted to shake the boy and tell him to wake up and stop being so stupid.

But, as Urahara had told him over and over again, they didn't have many options. Nobody knew what Shuuhei would do if Renji and Ichigo didn't show up. Either way, Ichigo was in danger. If Urahara's plan succeeded, at least they could be certain that Shuuhei would never be able to hurt Ichigo again. That was the only thing that kept Renji going at this point.

When Friday afternoon came, Renji went to Urahara's office to collect his equipment - a hidden microphone with a recorder that was small enough to fit inside the pocket of Renji's collared shirt. Renji stood stiffly as the older man helped him secure the device and ran through the instructions once again.

"You have to calm down, Abarai-san," Urahara said, resting his hand on Renji's shoulder.

Renji snorted but was too nervous to retort. Hell, he was scared out of his mind. There were so many possibilities that things could go wrong - what if he couldn't send the signal in time? What if he did but the police couldn't hear it? Worst of all, what if Shuuhei found the microphone? He could no longer say that he knew the man. The Shuuhei that they were now dealing with was bordering on insane, in his opinion. Who knew what he would do if that happened?

"Remember, your safety and Kurosaki-san's safety are the top-most priority here. Do not act on your own," Urahara said. "If you sense even the slightest sign of danger, send the signal like I just showed you." When Renji remained silent, the blonde said sharply, "Look at me, Abarai-san. Do you understand?" He squeezed Renji's shoulder and didn't let go until the redhead nodded his head.

"I understand."

Friday came in a blink of an eye. After stopping for a quick dinner, Renji pulled up in front of Shuuhei's double-story house and killed the engine.

Stepping out of the car, Ichigo whistled softly. "Nice house," he commented.

Renji grunted. He hadn't been able to speak properly ever since he left the police station. His nerves were too tightly strung, and he was worried that he would snap if he wasn't careful. He couldn't mess this up, not now. He stuffed his car keys in his left pocket and casually patted his shirt pocket to make sure that the microphone was still there. The small but solid bulge calmed him a little, and he reminded himself that he needed to act normal.

They walked up to the front door, and Renji rang the doorbell. Then they waited. After thirty seconds of silence, Renji hit the doorbell again. This time, the door opened.

"Hey," Shuuhei greeted with a smile.

Renji once again wondered how this man - someone he'd known for years - could turn out to be so low. How had he not see it before? Was he blind, or was Shuuhei just really good at hiding his true self all along?

"Hello," Ichigo said. He kept his hands deep inside his jeans pocket, looking slightly awkward.

"Come on in," Shuuhei said warmly, then he stepped aside for his visitors.

Counting numbers in his mind in order to regulate his breathing, Renji squared his shoulders and entered the house.

"They're in," Urahara said softly into his mouth piece.

There was a brief moment of static, then a muffled voice replied, "Roger that. We are in position and holding."

The blonde sat back in the car seat and pursed his lips, looking uncharacteristically serious. Despite what he had told the young man who turned himself in, Hisagi Shuuhei was no stranger to the department. Over the years, they had received numerous reports that involved the man, including two cases of missing persons. However, none of the cases provided enough evidence for them to take him to court. Hisagi had proven himself to be a cautious and cunning man, preying only on young and inexperienced college students, especially ones from foreign countries. Urahara suspected that the man chose this specific demography because these victims would be less likely to approach the authorities.

Kurosaki's case was the big break that he'd been waiting for. Was it dangerous? Definitely. Was it morally sound for him to put two young civilians on the line? It was questionable, but Urahara had confidence in himself and his team. They had scouted out the area countless times before; now, his team were positioned around the house, ready to storm the building at the first command.

Urahara prayed silently that the redhead would stick to the plan, and most importantly, remember the instructions that they'd gone over many times throughout the week. Three taps on the microphone, and Urahara's men would crash their way in and secure the scene. Urahara knew that the biggest risk in the entire setup was Abarai Renji. One wrong move from him could lead to the end of the entire operation, or worse, his own death as well as Kurosaki's.

Once again, Urahara pushed the ethical aspect of his strategy to the back of his mind, reminding himself that this could be the only chance they had to finally bring the man to justice.

Renji and Ichigo waited in the living room while Shuuhei disappeared into the kitchen to prepare drinks for them. Renji had no doubt that Shuuhei would do something with Ichigo's drink again, and he almost had to pinch himself to refrain from dragging the boy out of the house before Shuuhei returned from the kitchen.

He couldn't bring himself to look at Ichigo, who was currently surveying the decorations in the living room with curiosity in his eyes. Not for the first time in the past week, Renji questioned his decision to go through with the police captain's plan. Everything about it reeked of trouble, but Starrk and Urahara had full confidence that it would work, so he had eventually let them talk him into it.

Before he was done with his thoughts, Shuuhei was back.

"Here we go, two iced Coke for the good boys, and a beer for this old man," Shuuhei announced as he placed a tray of drinks on the coffee table.

Ichigo chuckled and reached over for his glass. Renji hesitated for a few seconds, then he, too, picked up his glass. His entire body tensed as he watched Ichigo gulp down almost half of his Coke at once. Something poked the back of his mind, telling him that something was off, but it faded as soon as he tried to grasp it. Forcing himself to relax a little, he brought his glass to his lips and drank.

As Shuuhei proceeded to hold a casual conversation about sports, Renji couldn't help marveling at the man's charisma. Too nervous to pay attention to their debate about a recent soccer match, he began to fret about what was going to happen. Were Urahara's men outside? Was Urahara aware of what was going on in here? What if Shuuhei didn't make a move soon? What if he did and Urahara wasn't ready?

Then it struck him. How did Shuuhei know which glass of Coke Ichigo would pick? As the realization sank in, Renji's vision began to darken at the corners. The last thing that came to his mind before he went under was that they were in serious, serious trouble.

Renji blinked, gradually being dragged back to consciousness by the pounding headache behind his eyes. His temples throbbed in sync with his pulse, and he struggled to sit up from the floor, only to feel his stomach rise in his throat. Instinctively, he clamped a hand over his mouth and let out an involuntary retching sound.

"You're a strong bastard, aren't you?" Shuuhei's voice came from somewhere in the semi darkness, and Renji immediately forgot his own discomfort.

"You fucking knocked me out," he croaked. Fighting down the rising panic in his chest, his eyes searched his surroundings for signs that could help him recognize where they were. He had no idea how long he'd been out, they could be anywhere now. The thought that they might be alone without Urahara's men made him feel sick all over again. Then, he saw the familiar outline of Shuuhei's cupboard and almost sighed out loud. They were in Shuuhei's bedroom after all, which was dark only because of the thick curtains that were drawn over all the windows.

Shuuhei laughed. "Well, I can't have you in my way," he said light-heartedly, as if he was merely chatting about the weather. "Do you like my work?"

Renji squinted, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the dimness in the room. When they slowly did so, he sucked in a sharp breath at the sight that greeted him. Ichigo was unconscious, his arms spread wide and cuffed to the headboard, rendering his upper body immobile. He was completely bare except for his boxers and a thick piece of cloth that was stuffed in his mouth.

"I like the way they struggle as I rip it off," Shuuhei said dreamily, gesturing to Ichigo's boxers. "The sounds they make, mmm…"

Enraged, Renji lurched forward to lunge at the man, only to find out that one of his wrists was tied to the handle of the closet, which was locked shut. He suddenly felt faint, his heart hammering like it was bouncing around in his rib cage. Grunting in frustration, he pulled at the rope, then again, and again, until it began to chafe his skin. His mind was starting to go haywire in his head, all he could think of was that he needed to get Ichigo out of here. Everything else didn't matter.

Laughing at Renji's frantic struggling, Shuuhei pulled his t-shirt over his head. Then, to Renji's horror, he began to unbuckle his pants.

What happened from that point on was a blur. Renji thew himself at Shuuhei again, not caring if his wrist broke in the process. He wasn't even aware that he was screaming, but he was, screaming the word "no" over and over again, his voice breaking as he became more desperate.

Then, the rope snapped.

Shuuhei's eyes went wide as the redhead stumbled, pushed forward suddenly by the momentum of his struggle now that his wrist was no longer trapped. It only took Renji a split second to realize what had happened, then his eyes narrowed into murderous slits, and he threw himself at the older man.

Urahara hadn't stopped chewing the insides of his cheeks ever since the line went silent on Abarai's end. He didn't know whether that meant that the man simply wasn't speaking, or that the volume was too low for the microphone to pick up, or that the microphone had malfunctioned. He tried not to think of the worst case scenario - that Hisagi had found and destroyed it.

At the ten minute mark, he was ready to give the order to storm the building when he caught a rustling sound in his ear piece. Frowning, he strained to listen. The next thing he heard was Hisagi's mocking voice, followed by the harsh, rapid sounds of Abarai's breathing. Sensing that things were rolling, Urahara sat up straight in his seat and brought his microphone to his lips to ask his men to standby for entry.

Tap the microphone, tap the microphone, tap the-

Then, the screams came.

Urahara cursed and hit the steering wheel in frustration. As he had feared, Abarai had forgotten his instructions in his panic. "Go, go, go-" Urahara yelled into his microphone, but before his command could be acknowledged, a deafening gunshot overwhelmed all other noises, ringing simultaneously through his ear piece and from the outside.

Urahara threw the car door open and sprinted for Hisagi's house, joining the uniformed men who were beginning to kick the front door open.

Renji staggered forward a few steps like a drunk as something slammed into the back of his thigh, then the pain hit him. With a strangled cry, he dropped to his knees. The impact jarred the gunshot wound in his thigh and sent him toppling over to his side. Before he could stop himself, his shoulder had hit the floor, and he rolled onto his back, his hands flying reflexively to his injured leg.

His world was reduced to the sharp, burning pain from his wound, and he squeezed his eyes shut and gasped. He had never been shot before; he never expected the pain to be so bad. It was an absurd thing to think given the circumstances, but even as he curled up on the floor, he wondered why action heroes made it seem like being shot was no big deal. How could they keep running and fighting with multiple bullet holes on their bodies? With another gasp, he rolled to his side and bit his lip against the pain, but it didn't help at all.

"Thanks, Tousen." Renji heard Shuuhei say.

Fighting the shaking of his body, Renji managed to look up towards the door and saw a dark-skinned man standing at the doorway. Despite the tears in his eyes, he could make out the dark-brown braids that hung loosely around the man's face, and more importantly, the pistol in his hand.

Renji was still trying to catch his breath when he felt a crushing weight on his hand that was covering the wound on his thigh. His head snapped back involuntarily from the sudden jolt of pain, and by the time his vision cleared again, he was panting so hard that he began to feel light-headed.

"You think I didn't know that you'd try to back out of this?" Shuuhei said smoothly, his foot grinding down on Renji's injured leg, wringing a string of curses from the redhead. "You think I'd be dumb enough to wait here for you two alone?" He chuckled mirthlessly, then turned to the man at the door. "Give me the gun."

Renji nearly whimpered when Shuuhei snatched the gun from his partner and pointed it at him. As fear coursed through his limbs, he felt a sudden flare of anger at himself for being so damn weak. Instead of the whine that was threatening to escape from his throat, Renji growled and stared defiantly at the muzzle of the gun.

The only warning he got was a small smirk on Shuuhei's face, then his body jerked as a bullet tore into his chest just below his collarbone. His vision went white as the pain registered in his mind a second later. He grabbed his shoulder and coughed, so shocked that it didn't even occur to him to scream in pain.

"It's too bad that you just had to be in my way," Shuuhei went on. "I liked you, Ren. You've been a great fuck."

Shuuhei's voice was distorted in Renji's pain-hazed mind, but he had no problem understanding that he was about to die. Finally remembering Urahara's instructions, he did the only thing he could do. He brought a trembling hand to his shirt pocket.

Urahara was half way across the lawn when the second gunshot rang out. Then, amidst the hoarse, wet sound of breathing, came a tap. Then another, and another, each softer than the last.

Then, came the third gunshot.

To be continued…

Could not…resist…cliffhanger… *coughs*

But before you shoot me, you do know that I update very frequently, right?

This chapter was very difficult to write even though I have it clearly in my head. I've been looking forward to writing this chapter since the beginning of the story, but it's so hard to put it down on paper to properly convey the "feel" of the action. Naturally, the medical information and police procedures portrayed here are by no means accurate, but I figured hey, if the CSI TV series can show us that DNA results can be delivered within a day, I'm entitled to some "improvisation", right? XD

One question I imagine you might have is "why is Ichigo so trusting, why is he so stupid?!". It will be explained eventually, I promise. Oh, and I chose to portray Urahara in this light based on the stunt he pulled with Rukia in the first arc (you know, the whole "I'm gonna hide the hogyoku in your soul without your permission" thing). He's pretty shady there, if you ask me. XP