They must think I'm a gangster who got shot as payback.
As Davien left court, the judge ordered two deputies to escort him to the parking lot, just in case.
Davien knew his biggest hurdle lay ahead: testifying at Santana's trial.
As the case dragged on, Davien felt as if he was doing time, waiting. He began to believe that his aunt and uncle, Joni and Terry Alford, resented caring for him, especially when he bumped into their furniture or urinated in his shabby wheelchair.
They didn't seem to fear for his safety. Sometimes when they ran errands, they would leave him alone in the car, where he felt trapped and exposed.
Davien wanted to put the trial behind him. He wanted out of Monrovia. He decided the best way out was to finish high school and make it to college.
In September, he returned to Monrovia High; back among friends, he thrived. He almost forgot about the trial. Then one day some guys drove by his house, shouting threats. It wasn't clear if the message was meant for Davien or for his uncle.
Some time later, Davien was called to the principal's office. Sheriff's deputies were waiting. They told him they had intercepted a threatening message in gang code at the county jail. He apparently was being targeted.
We're taking you home to grab some things, the deputies said. You can stay in school, but not with your family. You're being relocated.
Back at the house, his aunt watched him pack. Deputies could not say where he was going, or for how long.
"It's messed up," Davien said, trembling. "Not only did he take my legs away from me, now he's trying to take my whole life."
Deputies took Davien to stay with a teacher the officers knew.
Davien felt safer. But he still worried, especially about his brothers at home. One of them had started working at Calvary Grace, the church where Davien was shot.
Over the next three years, as the sheriff's task force tamped down the gang war, Davien's case passed to a new public defender, a new prosecutor and six different judges.
Davien graduated from high school and moved from Monrovia to attend college in Fullerton. He learned to get around in his wheelchair, and had more surgeries than he could remember to deal with the bullet fragments inside his body.
One day last fall, as he was preparing for exams, Davien arrived at his apartment to find waiting sheriff's deputies and a detective he had grown to trust, Scott Schulze. The trial was starting Jan. 26, 2012. They handed him a subpoena. He was startled and upset.
He had agreed to testify. Why were they acting as if they had to force him, surprising him at his apartment with his friends?
Davien called the new prosecutor. He didn't trust her, so he recorded the call. He asked why she hadn't come to see him herself and why she sent deputies when she knew he had agreed to show up.