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Chapter Text

Rafael didn't know how he got so lucky.

It had been five months since Olivia and Tucker had decided to end their relationship—a fact that Rafael felt terrible about reveling in, yet he reveled nonetheless. Adding to his elation was the fact that Olivia had turned to him for support, allowing him access to her at her most vulnerable.

He and Olivia had always been close, so much that he knew there were rumors floating around about them at 1PP and Hogan Place but knowing it was unfounded, he tried not to pay attention. Since Tucker left, he was integrated in her life like never before. She turned to him for advice, leaned on him for her emotional needs and made sure he was a constant fixture in the Benson household. He had grown closer to Noah, something that had terrified him at first but now he cherished that boy like he was his own. Both of the Bensons had burrowed into his heart, and he knew, regardless of what the future held, they would always occupy a central space in his life.

He had a standing invitation to spaghetti night, became Noah's park pal, and shared his deepest thoughts with Olivia during late-night meetings at their respective offices. It was a connection that was everything and yet not enough at the same time. He loved Olivia in a way that he had never thought it possible to love another person. But he was also petrified of doing anything to disrupt the precious gift she had given him—her trust. Sure, there were fleeting moments where he entertained the possibility that she might regard him as more than a friend, but he was never certain enough to risk what they had.

Rafael's office was a sanctuary of organized chaos. Rays of sunlight battled through the blinds, casting stripes across the mounds of case files that cluttered his desk—a tangible representation of his relentless work ethic. The pace of his professional life was a fortress, shielding him from the onslaught of emotions that lay in wait during the stillness of his solitude and the tide of emotions threatening to spill over in the quiet moments when his thoughts turned to Olivia and Noah.

He sat back in his chair, allowing the warmth of the sunlight to wash over his face, contrasting starkly with the turmoil churning within him. His thoughts oscillated between the lines of legal text before him and the memory of Olivia's smile—the kind of smile that lit up her entire face. It was a smile that could bring the strongest of men to their knees so he never stood a chance.

In the silence of his office, his heart waged a silent battle, as any action on his part would have impacts beyond Olivia; Noah too was a pivotal piece of his heart's puzzle. As he sat there, surrounded by the fortress of his files, his mind drifted back to the discussion with Noah at the previous week's spaghetti night.

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Rafael could smell the distinct scent of tomato sauce and garlic in the air, and it enveloped him like a familiar embrace. This place was a collage of comfort and vulnerability, a place where his guard could drop, and his heart could speak louder than his mind

He barely lowered his hand after knocking on the Benson's door, when he heard a jubilant "Uncle Rafa!" followed by the sounds of tiny pattering feet.

"Noah, sweetie…wait for mommy to open the door."

Seconds later, Rafael heard the unmistakeable sound of the lock clicking and the door swung open to reveal a smiling Olivia Benson. Each time he saw her felt like the first time. She was breathtakingly beautiful on a regular day but standing there, wearing comfortable clothes with her hair in a messy bun, she had never looked more radiant. The comfort that she displayed in his presence made him feel invincible.

Before he had a chance to respond, he felt a weight crash into his legs and then immediately felt like he has encountered an octopus as arms and legs wrapped around him. "Up Uncle Rafa! Up!"

Rafael chuckled as he bent down to pick up the littlest Benson. "How are you doing mi chiquito?"

"I missed you Uncle Rafa. You were away for really long."

It was true. His caseload over the past two weeks had almost been unmanageable. The last time he had visited the Benson household was the previous week's spaghetti night, when normally he'd be over multiple times a week.

"I'm sorry chiquito. Uncle Rafa was busy with work and didn't know that you would miss him so much."

"I always miss Uncle Rafa," Noah's grabby fingers scrunched up his tie. "I want you around for always."

Rafael couldn’t help the slight wobble in his voice, Noah's words conjuring emotions that he never dreamed were possible. "I promise that I won’t ever be away from you for that long again without at least talking to you. Even if I can't be here in person, we can talk on mommy's iPad. Would that be better?"

"Can you read on the iPad?"

Rafael smiled, "Absolutely chiquito." He looked up and caught Olivia watching them, unshed tears sparkling in her eyes. "Just let your mommy know when you want an Uncle Rafa story and we can find time to make that happen."

Although Rafael could have done without Noah's subsequent squeal directly into his ear, he was elated that he was able to make him feel better.

"Come inside you two." Olivia opened the door even wider. "Why don't you show Uncle Rafa your new blocks."

"BLOCKS!"
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Rafael turned his attention back to the disaster of files on his desk. He vowed to himself that he would never be away from the Benson house for more than a couple of days and he would do everything in his power not to break his promise to the little boy. If he wanted to be able to stop by after work today, he needed to make a dent in the mountain of papers.

Fifteen minutes into his reading his phone rang. Looking at the caller ID and seeing that it was Olivia he felt a smile small tug at the corner of his mouth. "To what do I owe this very welcomed pleasure?"

"Rafa," came out the strangled gasp. His heart clenched and an unimaginable fear spread throughout his body. He had never heard Olivia sound so broken.

"God Liv. Are you okay, is Noah okay?"

"No," she sobbed. "Noah….he's….someone has taken him."

"Dios."

Chapter Text

The sun filtered through Olivia's bedroom window, the golden rays dancing across her face with the gentle sway of her light blue curtains. She loved mornings like this, waking up peacefully before the ugly blare of her alarm had a chance to rip her from sleep. The only downside was her brain woke up ready to go while her body lay in rest, her mind turned to dissect thoughts that she went to great lengths to keep at bay. Lately, her musings seemed to always circle back to one person: Rafael Barba. The formidable ADA had seamlessly intertwined himself into the fabric of her life, much to the delight of her and her son. But recently her thoughts about the tenacious man had started to veer into romantic territory.

She thought about the first time she noticed her newfound feelings for Rafael. Olivia and her team were in his office crowded around Barba's deep mahogany wooden table going over the details of their latest case. Barba was in his element, opting to prop his feet up on the chair across from him, causing his ridiculously purple and pink socks to proudly be displayed. The ADA had a way of occupying space in whatever sized room he was in and this time Carisi was the casualty having lost his spot to Rafael's comfort.

The Detective was perched on the windowsill, animatedly explaining the evidence they had collected in the coffee shop rape case. During a brief pause in Carisi's onslaught of information, Barba turned to Olivia to ask for her insight. Her exhaustion was palpable; Barba's question sounded distant, her brain struggling to process it.

"Liv?"

"I'm sorry, could you repeat the question."

"I was asking if you agreed with Detective Carisi. That we shouldn't discount the victim's ex-roommate as a suspect."

As she started providing her thoughts on the case, Barba walked over to the coffee machine. He picked up the pot, pouring the rich black liquid into a clean white mug. Olivia momentarily faltered when she saw him grab some cream from the nearby mini fridge and add a splash to his brew. Rafael Barba was a man of habit and always had his coffee black.

As he returned to the group, he stopped by Olivia to hand her the cup of coffee. While extremely grateful, she was curious why he was presenting her with a caffeinated gift.

Sensing her unspoken question, Rafael supplied, "it looks like some young gentleman kept you up all night." At her puzzled expression, he elaborated, "he's about knee high, a pachyderm aficionado, and has everyone in this room wrapped around his little finger."

Olivia let out a chuckle. "He's made it his mission that no one in the apartment is allowed to sleep if he can't." The scent wafting from the mug was enticing. "How did you know?"

Rafael pointed to a spot just above his left eyebrow. "You always get a little crinkle here when you're tired and I remembered you mentioning he's been having a rough couple of weeks."

Olivia took a sip, the dark liquid poured down her throat, warming her chest along the way. It was heaven. She looked into Rafael's eyes and gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you."

He gave her a small, sweet smile in return.

"Uh…thanks for offering the rest of us coffee," Amanda interrupted.

"You know where the pot is." Barba's genuine smile transformed into his trademark smirk. "You're welcome to help yourself Detective."

Amanda let out a huff and rolled her eyes. Olivia heard Fin mutter to his partner, "we all know where Barba's priorities lie."

Olivia had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, but as the meeting continued, Fin's words rattled around in her head. She also noticed that the warmth in her chest hadn't dissipated. It wasn't just the beverage; it was the thoughtfulness behind it, the way Rafael had noticed her needs without a word. Olivia had always admired his keen observation skills in the courtroom, but experiencing it in such a personal way stirred something in her, made her feel cherished like no one had before.

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur, with Olivia periodically glancing at Rafael. She noted the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the slight smile when he felt they were making progress, and the intensity of his gaze when discussing the finer points of the case. These little details, which she had observed countless times before, suddenly held new significance. She knew her friend well but found herself wanting to know him better. Furthermore, she wanted him to know her, to invite him behind the walls she so rarely let anyone past.

______________________________

Lying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, Olivia tried to stop analyzing her thoughts about Rafael Barba. Glancing at her phone, it showed that it was quarter to seven. Olivia knew that she only had a few minutes before a little child sized tornado came barreling into her room and she wanted to make the best of her morning with him. After showering and getting dressed for the day, Olivia started the task of making them both pancakes for breakfast.

As soon as the sugary, cakey scent permeated her apartment, her son rushed into the kitchen to make it known he was ecstatic at his mother's choice of morning menu.

Pancakes plated and served, Olivia and Noah sat down at the table to eat their breakfast. A rare weekday treat in the Benson household.

Turning to her son, Olivia asked, "are you going to have fun with Lucy today my sweet boy?"

Noah nodded, mouth stuffed full of syrupy cake. She really needed to remind him to take smaller bites. Once he swallowed his mouthful of food, he asked, "Will Uncle Rafa come over today?"

She was touched at her son's attachment to the man her plagued her thoughts all morning. Although Rafael was a disaster with Noah in the beginning, it didn't take long before the ADA's heart warmed to the little boy. He was a natural around her son. His preference for talking to Noah like an equal instead of like he was a child really went a long way with her son.

"We'll see sweetheart. I know that Uncle Rafa really wants to see you but he also has a lot of work. I'll ask him later today what his plans are." Seeing the disappointment on her son's face, she tried to change the subject, "a little bird told me that Lucy is planning on taking you to the park this morning."

Noah's eyes lit up and he let out a squeal of delight.

Lucy arrived at 8am, a bag in her arm that Olivia knew was filled with her school books and activities to keep her son occupied. Even though Olivia had told Lucy countless times not to bring extra toys, the bag in her arm suggested she hadn't heeded the advice

Olivia gathered her things for work, getting ready to head out the door. "Luc, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you looking after Noah today. I promise you that his daycare will be open tomorrow, they're just cleaning up a small leak today."

"It's not a problem Olivia." Lucy looked down at Noah fondly, "and I like spending time with my little man. Plus I'll still have time to study when he falls asleep."

Bending down, Olivia wrapped her arms around Noah and picked him up in a great big hug. Dropping a kiss on his cheek, she added, "be a good boy for Luc today. Mommy loves you."

Placing her son on the ground, she opened the door to head out.

"Bye momma!"

______________________________

The squad had just wrapped up a pretty big case and nothing new had come in so they were enjoying a rare opportunity to catch up on some administration. While sounding quite boring, it had been a rough couple of weeks and Olivia knew her team appreciated the down time. She had her own date with a stack of paperwork, so that's how she spent her morning, hunched over her desk making her way through the pile of files.

Around 11:30am, Olivia's phone rang. Picking it up to answer, the screen showed that it was Lucy. "Hey, Luc. Everything okay? How's Noah?"

"Olivia," Lucy's voice, tinged with panic, immediately shattered Olivia's resolve. "It's Noah…I think he's been taken."

The words struck with the force of a gale, her world tilting as the ground beneath her seemed to fracture. The case files blurred into insignificance as a mother's worst fear crystallized before her.

Chapter Text

Olivia's heart hammered in her chest, a tumultuous rhythm that drowned out the buzz of the precinct. The files on her desk became a blur of ink and paper, insignificant in the wake of Lucy's words.

"Noah...taken?" she stammered, gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles whitened. "What happened? Are you sure?"

There was a beat of silence on the other end, filled with unspoken terror. "I just turned around for a second, and when I looked back, he was gone. The park... it was crowded, and I—"

"Calm down, Luc. I need you to breathe and tell me everything you remember." Olivia's voice was firm, honed by years of experience, but underneath it she was crumbling.

"Noah got mud on his hands and I turned around to go grab a tissue from my purse -- it was only sitting a few feet away. When I turned back around, he wasn't there." Lucy paused. "I looked around everyone where for him. I'm…I'm pretty sure I saw him in the arms of a strange man."

No. Not her precious son. Olivia tried to stop the decades worth of cases from flashing in her mind. Each new detail more horrific than the last. She had to keep her resolve for the sake of Noah.

"Do you remember any other details, Lucy?" She tried her best to keep her voice calm.

Lucy supplied, "I saw the man get into a van. It looked like he had a child wrapped in a blanket. I was able to write down the first half of the license plate."

Olivia took down the details of the plate and van description.

"That's really good, Lucy. Can you stay where you are?" she asked. "I'm going to send Fin and Carisi out to you to collect the details and also do a canvas of the park."

"Not a problem Olivia," Lucy paused before adding, "I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay Lucy, we'll find him."

Olivia hung up and her body immediately slumped onto her desk, overcome with unbelievable grief. She needed to pull herself together for her son.

Springing into action, she marched into the squad room. "Fin, Carisi, Rollins! I need you now." She tried to keep her voice firm, commanding but she heard it wobble at the end.

The three detectives assembled around her, faces all showing great concern.

"Lucy, just called," she steeled her nerves, "Noah's missing and she thinks someone may have taken him."

"Oh god, Lieu!" Carisi's words were an echo of Olivia's fear.

"I need…" Olivia started, "I need us all to keep focused." Three heads nodded back at her. "Fin, Carisi, can you go over to the park and talk to Lucy, she's waiting there near the fountains. See if anyone else around has seen anything. It happened within the last 10 to 15 minutes."

Both detectives nodded at her.

"Fin, I may need you to take point on this one." Olivia said, looking into his eyes. She lowered her voice, "I'm keeping it together now, barely. Will you back me up?"

"Whatever you need, Cap," he replied before heading off with Carisi.

Olivia handed the post-it note over to Amanda. "Rollins, can you see if you can find any details on this van. Plate is only partial but see what you can find….it also wouldn't hurt to cross reference against past cases. Maybe it's someone looking for revenge."

"On it, Captain."

Retreating to her office, the walls closed in around Olivia. A sanctuary or a prison, she couldn't decide. Alone, she allowed the façade to fall. On autopilot, her hands dialed the person she needed to hear from the most.

It took only two rings for him to answer. Hearing his cheerful voice on the other end caused her resolve to crumble. An intense sob wracked through her body. "Rafa…." she cried out. She heard his distress that her voice had caused him coming through the phone.

She sobbed, " Noah…he's…someone has taken him."

"Dios."

She heard the rustling sound of papers, like he was packing up his briefcase. "I'm on my way over."

"Rafa, you don't need to come here," she responded, "I know you're busy, I can call you once we have any leads."

"Olivia," he admonished, "I will be over there as fast as I can."

She was grateful for him and although she didn't want to make him feel obligated, she needed him with her. "Thank you Rafael."

__________________

Rafael arrived at the Special Victim's Unit office in record time. He hadn't meant to run over there but he couldn't stop his legs from propelling him at an accelerated pace, fear pumping through his body.

Entering the familiar squad room, he could only see Rollins, slumped over her computer frantically clicking through screens.

"Where is she?"

Amanda looked up and saw the distraught look on the counsellor's face. "She's in her office, trying to hold herself together." Amanda gave a sympathetic look over her shoulder in Olivia's direction, "I couldn't imagine…if my daughter….what she must be going through."

Rafael looked into Olivia's office and saw her sitting with her head in her hands. The tips of her fingers slowly rubbing her temples. He could tell it was taking everything she had in her to keep herself upright and not collapsed in a puddle on the floor. Rafael had never seen her look so small, stripped bare of all the qualities he had come to know and love. Honestly, it broke his heart to witness.

He had no idea what he should be doing in this situation but knew he had to do something.

He cautiously approached her office. She didn't even acknowledge his presence once he stepped inside, which was unusual for her. To give her some privacy he closed her blinds.

"Liv…what can I do for you." When she still didn't acknowledge him, he walked around and started rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Anything you need."

She stood abruptly and threw herself into his arms with a ferocity that almost knocked him off his feet. "Oh, Rafa," she wailed, a sob racking through her body.

Cupping the back of her head, he pulled her further into the cocoon of his chest. "Shh, I've got you Liv."

"I don't…." Olivia sucked in gasping breaths, trying to speak through the tears. "I don't know what I will do if anything happens to him."

"We'll find him Olivia." His voice trembled. Rafael gripped her tighter, "we have to."

Chapter Text

Rafael's heart felt like a drum, too loud in the quiet of Olivia's office. He could feel her pain, a dark cloud in the room that threatened to choke him. His hands, usually so steady in the courtroom, trembled as they rested on her back, feeling the shudders that wracked her body with each sob.

He was supposed to be the rock, the unwavering pillar of strength, but in that moment, as he held her, he felt as fragile as a piece of glass. He felt anger, too, and a fierce protectiveness that surged through him with the force of a tidal wave. It was a feeling he didn't even know was buried deep within him. It clawed at his insides, a primal urge to confront those who dared harm the ones he cherished most. The need to exact vengeance for Noah was a seething fire in his chest, threatening to burst forth as venomous words.

He needed to be strong, sturdy for Olivia so he turned his attention back to her.

"Shh," he cooed into the silk of Olivia's hair, his voice a soothing balm. "We'll find him Liv. I have faith in this team, in you." Fingers gently traced patterns on her scalp, a silent plea for her to find solace, to cling to hope. "Remember all the lives you've touched, all those you've pulled from the darkness in their time of despair," he said, choosing to not let the word 'victim' tumble from his lips, not with Noah's fate hanging in the balance.

He swayed with her gently, a wordless dance of comfort in the stillness of her office. Olivia's weeping had subsided to sporadic shudders that coursed through her. Worry that the silence would cause her mind to race, Rafael hummed a lullaby that his abuelita had sung to him to chase away his childhood nightmares. It always brought him tranquility in times of turmoil, and hoped that it could provide her with a fraction of the comfort.

Amidst the solace of the cocoon he created for both of them, Rafael felt ashamed; he was the one who was supposed to be her unwavering support. Yet, the warmth he found in their embrace, the strength it offered him, was a balm to his own worry and was something he had been dreaming about. He selfishly revelled in it until reality intruded with a sharp knock at the door.

Rollins' head appeared around the jamb, apologetic yet urgent. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's news.” She paused at Olivia's expectant gaze, then continued, "We've narrowed it down to three vehicles fitting Lucy's description and the partial plate. I'm on it. Fin and Carisi have corralled a pair of witnesses for a composite sketch. And there's more — a security camera at the bodega, it's a stretch, but TARU's pulling out all stops on the footage."

Olivia rubbed at her eyes, wiping away the last remnants of her tears. "That's great news Rollins, thank you all for your work." She stretched out her hand, an unspoken request to see the vehicle matches. “I’m going to look into these and see if I recognize anyone.” Grabbing the documents, Olivia headed out into the squad room.

"How is she doing?" Amanda asked.

"Holding on," Rafael replied, his voice betraying a hint of awe at Olivia’s resilience. Amanda’s nod conveyed her understanding.

“Dodds should be informed,” Amanda hesitated.

“I’ll handle it,” Rafael offered swiftly, sparing Olivia from the burden. “She doesn’t need another task added to her plate.”

"Thank you counsellor." Amanda nodded towards the bullpen. "I'm going to go help Liv, try to keep her occupied."

Gratitude and understanding passed between them as Amanda left.

Alone now, Rafael felt the weight of stillness envelop him. He dialed the Deputy Chief, his voice steady, contrary to his inner turmoil. As Dodds spoke, the promises of support were generous, but they did little to quell the helplessness that gnawed at Rafael. Dodds promised that he would stop by the precinct at the first opportunity.

As he sat with nothing by his own thoughts, his solitude was punctuated by a vivid recollection, a contrast to the somber hues surrounding him. He was transported back to Olivia's living room, the comfort of her plush gray couch beneath him, a glass of scotch glowing warmly in his grasp. The soft rhythm of pattering little feet growing increasing louder.

"Rafa!" The small jubilant voice exclaimed.

"Mi amigo!" Rafael's response was infused with affection. He gestured to the vacant spot beside him, a silent invitation. With an earnest effort, the littlest Benson tried his best to scramble up the couch. Rafael extended a supportive hand, giving Noah a gentle boost that brought him close.

"I see Eddie will be joining us for the evening. Does he want to watch the movie too?"

"Brabra!" Noah exclaimed, thrusting the stuffed pachyderm towards Rafael. At the man's puzzled expression, Noah tried again although this time he squealed "Babra!"

The sound of laughter from the kitchen broke Rafael's puzzlement, and he glanced up to find Olivia leaning casually against the counter, an amused sparkle in her eye that softened the lines of worry that had be building there over the past few weeks of tough cases.

"Lucy introduced him to the cartoon Babar and he's decided that it was a more fitting name for his best friend," Olivia supplied.

Redirecting his attention to Noah, Rafael's hands were gentle as they met the stuffed elephant's plush foot. "Mr. Babar, a pleasure indeed," he said, his voice a deep, playful timbre. Noah's response was a tinkling giggle, which resonated in Rafael's chest as a beloved melody.

Throughout the night Noah kept including his stuffed friend in their conversation, although his name constantly morphed into variations of the toy's name. Several times, he had even called the toy 'Barba.'

After the fourth time, Rafael felt the need to reconfirm the name and looked to Olivia for translation.

"Officially it's Babar but unofficially, he's heard me call you Barba and I think he just wanted to name his elephant after you," Olivia whispered, a fond smile growing across her features. In that instant, Rafael felt a warmth bleed into the last of the armour he had surrounding his heart. A sense of belonging that knotted at his throat. He was more than just 'Rafael Barba', a friend from work, through the innocence of a child, he discovered that he had been accepted into this beautiful family. It was beyond anything he could have ever dreamt.

Now, back in the present, as he rose from his seat, Rafael's heart was a battleground of emotions. The stark reality of the squad room clawed at him, a stark contrast to the tender moment he held onto like a lifeline. With eyes dampened by unshed tears, he made his way out of Olivia's office.

_______________________

The shift from the solitude of Olivia's office to the bustling squad room was jarring and threatened to further overwhelm the lawyer. He looked over to Fin's desk and saw that Lucy had arrived to provide her statement to the seasoned detective. A look of grim determination was etched on Fin's face, it was a look that was all too familiar to Rafael and it almost made him sick to his stomach.

Carisi and Amanda were hunched over her desk, chatting animatedly about something on the computer screen. Officers moved around briskly, their steps fueled by urgency. When had so many people arrived?

In the epicenter stood Olivia, her eyes scanning over every piece of information pinned to the bulletin board, looking for something that could potentially lead them to Noah.

Rafael leaned against the cool, unyielding frame of the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. Despite the bustling efficiency around him, Rafael’ felt himself deflate further. Any determination that had been building in him was replaced by a haunting helplessness. Deep down he knew that at this stage of an investigation, with no suspect in sight, he had little to do with the process but he yearned to help.

A sudden commotion snapped Rafael back to the present. Carisi was animatedly waving his arms at Olivia, urging her to join him and Rollins.

Rafael's eyes met Olivia's across the room. In that brief exchange, a silent conversation passed between them. It was a look that conveyed understanding, support, and a shared dread. Olivia joined her squad at the computer.

"I think we found our suspect Lieu!" Carisi stated, hope etching his voice.

Rafael rushed over to join the detectives. He listened intently while Carisi and Amanda laid out the details. They were able to piece together the full license plate number from the partial that Lucy took down and cleaned up footage from the bodega. Amanda tracked the vehicle to a rental company and on faith called to ask if they would be willing to share the details of the last renter. They could figure out details of any warrants needed later. The owner of Rental Town didn't want to have the possibility of a child being hurt on his hands so willingly gave the information over. It had been rented by a Joseph Templeton from Hunts Point. Checking the database, a record came up; Templeton was a known man for hire and a dealer.

"I can call someone over in Narcotics," Fin offered. "They will likely have a last known address for this scum and may be able to give us other information that could come in handy."

"I also have the address he provided to the rental, if we need a starting point," Amanda supplied.

Olivia looked at Rafael. "Just go and get this son of a bitch," he answered her silent question. "I'll figure out anything we need after the fact."

"You heard the man," Olivia ordered, "let's go get my boy."

Chapter Text

As dusk fell, casting a somber hue over the city, Olivia’s team finally had Joseph Templeton in custody—five grueling hours since Noah’s disappearance. They first visited the address the rental company had on file, finding the abandoned van but no Noah or Joseph. Fin’s liaison within Narcotics had proved invaluable, leading them to the suspect's girlfriend's apartment where they were able to arrest Templeton. Unfortunately Noah was not found on location and Templeton had decided to feign ignorance even though the cleaned up TARU footage had been able to capture images of him ushering Noah into the van. Olivia tried to calm herself with the knowledge that her son did not appear to be in distress in the video and Templeton was not handling him roughly.

True to his word, Rafael had obtained warrants as needed. He had pressured Judge Cohen to be on call, which he obliged once he knew that Benson's son was involved. Truthfully, Rafael suspected that McCoy had called over prior to his arrival and used whatever pressure the District Attorney's office had at their disposal. Rafael set up a system with Carmen, stationing themselves at Cohen's office and taking turns running the warrants as they were needed.

Once Rafael had found his purpose in the case, he was able to control the storm swirling inside with more ease. Pushing down the worry he held for Noah, he adopted the commanding presence he usually employed with the Special Victim's Unit.

Forensics was combing the van for anything that could provide a clue to Noah's whereabouts. Until their job was complete, the squad would need to press the suspect for information. Olivia had heeded Rafael's advice to not lead the interrogation herself. Her reluctance was palpable, a maternal instinct clashing with procedural duty, yet she recognized the necessity of Rafael’s impartial approach —to adhere strictly to protocol, to keep their case ironclad. Detective Tutuola took the lead.

Fin entered the interrogation room. Templeton was as difficult as they assumed he'd be and after a mere five minutes, he had lawyered up. About 45 minutes later, John Buchanan strolled into the precinct.

"Mr. Buchanan, what an absolute displeasure it is to see you," Barba sneered at the defense lawyer walked past him to the interrogation room.

"Someone piss in your coffee this morning?" Buchanan jabbed back. "Maybe consider having yourself another cup, you seem cranky." Before entering the room to confer with his client, the defense attorney turned back to address Rafael, "I'll need a few moments with my client. Be a good lad and prepare the information I need to understand what crime he's allegedly committed."

Rafael rolled his eyes in irritation. The day had been long and his patience was running extremely thin. He knew it was going to take a herculean effort to not snap at the pompous lawyer.

After 20 minutes, Buchanan and Templeton were ready to begin questioning; Rafael and Fin entered the interrogation room, occupying the two vacant seats. Olivia, Rollins and Carisi all watched through the one way glass.

"So, Mr. Templeton, do you understand why you have been arrested," Rafael asked.

"For some bullshit charges you pigs are trying to pin on me," Joseph Templeton snapped back. "Ever since drug charges were pinned on me five years ago, cops keep harassing me for every little thing they can't solve."

"Cut the crap man, we have you on video shoving the kid into your van." Fin laid a screenshot on the table for the Templeton and Buchanan to see. "Plus we have records of you renting the van and the owner has identified you as the person who completed the rental."

"Fellows, there's a completely logical explanation for all of this." Buchanan supplied. "Mr. Templeton did rent the van but he was doing it on behalf of a friend who doesn't have the means to get approved for a rental at the moment -- so you see, it's all just a big misunderstanding."

"I'm sorry, what exactly are we misunderstanding?" Rafael pointed at the screenshot. "Is this not your client in the van with the missing child?" Grabbing the receipt next, "this is your name on the rental agreement."

Templeton scoffed. "I'm so glad you can read. Maybe if you took your face out of your precious files, you'd understand. No one is saying that I didn't rent the van. As for the image, it looks a little grainy to me and I'm sure one of the pigs in this place knows how to use Photoshop."

"Come on man," Fin started, only to be silenced by Rafael raising his hand.

“You're right, I do know how to read,” Rafael calmly responded. “I read a lot in fact, it comes with this job -- but I don't limit my reading to materials solely related to my profession.” Rafael slowly cocked his head to the side, looking Joe right in his eyes. “Medical textbooks are endlessly fascinating to me.”

He could see Fin look at him out of the corner of his eye. Rafael knew that this conversation was taking an usual turn and the seasoned detective was trying to decipher his next move.

Barba pointed at Joe's upper chest. “I could cut a torso starting here, all the way down to the navel,” he gestured the path of the phantom scalpel with his right hand. “It's possible that the intestines might fall out -- that's called evisceration -- but the person certainly wouldn’t die right away.” Rafael paused to let his words sink in. “It’s a marvel at what the human body can endure, even though the pain would be immense.”

“Goddamn,” Rollins exhaled. “Remind me never to piss him off again.”

Wide-eyed, Carisi turned to face her, nodding his head emphatically.

While Olivia was slightly taken aback by the ADA's words, she was more focused on Templeton's reaction to them. With her eyes glued to Templeton, she was able to catch the slight bob of his Adam's apple has he gulped. Barba had rattled him.

Templeton and Buchanan sat in silence, not quite knowing how to recover their footing. Rafael could feel Fin's eyes boring into the side of his face and could only imagine the expression he wore.

“Why Mr. Barba," Buchanan sputtered, "this isn’t very becoming of you. Threatening a suspect? That is highly unprofessional.” Buchanan admonished in an almost condescending manner.

The nonchalance at which Templeton and his counsel were treating this situation had run it's course, and Rafael could feel his resolve crack, the rage bubbling up. He slammed his fist on the weathered metal desk, the sound he produced echoing in the small room. “Fuck professionalism. Give me back my boy!”

Olivia heard both Rollins and Carisi gasp beside her and the interrogation room once again fell silent with Buchanan and Templeton both looking taken aback. She could feel her heart beat in her ears, Rafael's words ringing in them. She knew that they came from a place of significance but she didn't have the faculties to let her mind venture down that path at the moment.

“I…” Rafael started but stopped. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He needed to reign himself in for Noah’s sake. "That boy means the world to me and this whole squad. Rest assured, you can expect the NYPD and the District Attorney to throw their full weight at your client so I suggest that you start cooperating fast." The bite returning to his voice.

"Wait," Templeton started, "you have a relationship with that fucking kid?"

"Shit for brains! You took the child of a police Lieutenant, that is not something that you ever walk back from. With the evidence that we have, there is absolutely no question that you were the one who grabbed the child. But if, and that's a big if, you start giving us answers it's possible that you'll have a chance at seeing the light of day again." Turning to Buchanan, Rafael added, "do you want a minute with your client to tell him how serious this is?"

"Benson's kid?"

Rafael nodded to acknowledge.

Buchanan turned to his client. "If you did know something that could help find the boy, I would suggest you disclose."

"Look, I don't know a lot. The guys who hired me appreciate a don't ask, don't tell relationship." Templeton provided. "I was given a photo, a time to nab the kid and instructions for a hand off."

"I'm going to need more than that, or you're going to spend your life locked in a small windowless room. And I will personally see to it that someone adds bodily fluids to your food, every single day." Rafael glared at Template, eyes blazing with animosity.

"The guy who hired me is scary, like tied to the Mafia, you wash up in the river if you cross him type scary."

Rafael scoffed, his voice dropped in a threatening manner, "you haven't even seen scary yet. Keep wasting my time and I'll be happy to show you."

"I honestly didn't ask questions and only know what they told me." Templeton looked rattled, his body started to vibrate with nervous energy. "Look, I've heard rumors that the kid had importance to a detective at Organized Crimes who has been investigating the man who hired me. Not just investigating but really invading his personal life like he's obsessed. I think his name is El…Ellias Staple or something like that."

Fin's eyes went wide, his head snapping to the window as though he could catch his friend's gaze through the one way glass. "Elliot Stabler?" he breathed out.

"Yes!" That's it."

Rafael's eyes were now on the glass.

"Liv", she heard Rollins ask but it sounded garbled like she was underwater.

Fin turned back to the suspect, shoving a pad of paper and pen towards him. "You are going to write everything you remember on this pad of paper. What you've heard, what you remember, absolutely everything. Do not leave anything out. If I have to come back to ask you again, it won't be pretty."

__________________________

Olivia hadn't moved since she heard the words "Elliot Stabler" come out of Fin's mouth. She stared straight ahead, her vision not focused on anything. She heard shuffling around her but she was stuck, her brain not able to process the information she heard.

"Olivia?" Fin put his hand on her should trying to get her attention. "Did you know that Stabler was back?"

The contact from Fin broke her from whatever catatonic state she was in; she let out an exasperated sigh. "No. I didn't know he was back. I heard about Sergeant Ayanna Bell's appointment to Organized Crimes but nothing about the team." She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. The headache that she had been managing all day started throbbing at the mention of her former partner. "I haven't heard anything from him since he left ten years ago."

"Do you want me to head over to Organized Crimes," Fin asked. "Get some information from Elliot -- ask him to take a look at the case?

"If he's investigating Templeton's contact, he may have some important information," Amanda suggested. "He could even be in danger himself."

"Fuck Stabler," Olivia snapped. She could tell her team was shocked. "I'm going to Dodds. Let him sort Elliot and this mess and get any information we need. I just want my boy." Truth was, Olivia knew she couldn't trust herself around Elliot at this moment. That selfish son of a bitch got her boy wrapped up in whatever mess he was in and she wanted nothing more than to strangle him at the moment. Ten years was a long time and she no longer felt the need to blindly give him utter devotion.

Rafael exited the interrogation room, a small smile on his face. "Well, my job just got easier -- I'm pretty confident that Buchanan has convinced his client to plead guilty." At Olivia's quizzical look, he added, "and I didn't even have to offer a deal. Bastard is likely to do the maximum. That being said, you detectives need to piece together the full picture so I know how much I can charge him with. Thinking kidnapping and conspiracy as a start but anything else I could tack on would be lovely."

"Thank you Barba," Olivia replied, "what would we do without you." A soft blush spread across the lawyer's face. "Okay, once Templeton has finished writing all of the details down, I need you guys to start working on tracking down any leads," Olivia commanded. "Maybe we should start thinking about shifts, I know it's been a long day and it doesn't look like we'll have this wrapped up soon. I know that you all must be tired…"

"Liv, you couldn't get rid of any of us if you tried," Fin stated. Rollins and Carisi nodded their agreement.

She was touched by their loyalty. "I can't thank you all enough."

Buchanan exited the interrogation room, dropping the pad of paper in Fin's hands. "Here you go detective. Barba, I'll call you tomorrow to discuss my client's plea."

As her detectives set off to chase down new leads supplied by Templeton, Olivia caught Rafael's eye and nodded her head towards her office. The blinds were already shut and she knew that it would provide them a private space to unpack the last 10 minutes of that shit show interrogation. He knew implicitly what she was asking, he always did, and followed her wordlessly into the room.

One she closed the door and switched the lock into place he started, "Liv, I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

"Liv," he started, "I don't…not the right time….this isn't what you need right now and I shouldn't have…"

Olivia silenced him with a hand over his mouth. "Shhh." She took his face in her hands and pulled him in close, pressing the softest kiss to his lips. It lasted only a second but Olivia felt warmth spread through her whole body. When she pulled back, he had a dazed look on his face, his lips opening and closing like he was trying to say something but had forgotten how to form words.

"You're right. This isn't the time." She grabbed his dress shirt collar in her hands and tugged lightly. "But it is definitely something that I would like to revisit." She gave him a small smile. Although she didn't have the mental capacity to turn her head to their shifting relationship, she wanted to give him something to stop the spiral she knew he would send himself down with all his overthinking. And the truth was, she had been thinking about how to approach him about wanting more for weeks.

A crooked smile graced his face. It was a smile that she knew he reserved for her. "I look forward to it," he whispered.

Feeling safe in the sanctuary of her office, she added, "I want to thank you for today. You've helped more than you could possible know. I would have crumbled to the floor had you not been in my corner." She grabbed his left hand and caressed her fingers over his knuckles. "You always find a way to be my strength when I can't find mine. I know this isn't easy for you either, I know how much Noah means to you and I just wanted to say thank you."

"You never have to thank me Olivia," Rafael ran his thumb across Olivia's cheek, cupping the side of her face. "I would do anything for you and Noah."

She nuzzled her cheek into his palm. "Let's find our boy so we can revisit what that means."

Chapter Text

Her conversation with Dodds went fine, although she knew that there was an edge to her voice that she couldn’t control no matter how hard she tried to keep it light. She could feel Rafael's eyes on her the entire time and knew that if she looked his way, his features would be etched with concern for her. Dodds ended the discussion with a promise to wrangle Sergeant Bell and Detective Stabler, bringing them over to SVU within the hour.

Olivia was struggling to wrap her head around the fact that she'd soon be face to face with her former partner. A man, who she had built her life to revolve around and who one day snatched her whole world away when he vanished without notice. In the first few years after Elliot left, she held onto the flicker of hope that she'd one day see him again. But as the years passed, she let that hope die and she never fathomed that she'd be in the position she's in now. Early on she had hoped that if she did ever get the opportunity, she would have time to prepare what she wanted to say to him -- explain how much his abandonment had hurt her but that underneath it all she was grateful to him. She had grown so much as a person and his departure had forced that. She had a family now, one that she would fight tooth and nail to keep. If he had stayed, she would have remained tethered to him, drowning in her own loneliness.

Rafael softly calling her name broke her thoughts. "Liv," he probed. “How are you? Can I get you anything?”

She replied with a scoff, a mix of fatigue and frustration in her voice. “I'm drained, Rafa. The thought of dealing with Elliot now—it's the last thing I need."

His hand traced comforting circles across her back, a silent promise of support.

"What am I even supposed to say to him?" she asked. "Hi, hope the last ten years have gone well, your family well? Oh yeah, what the hell kind of mess did you get my son tangled up in?"

Rafael let out a chuckle. "All good questions but I wouldn't start there." Looking deeply into her eyes, he reasoned, "besides, Dodds will likely pull what he can from Bell on the way over. He'll come prepared with answers to help find Noah." They continued to look into each others eyes until the moment was interrupted by the chirping of Rafael's phone. Glancing at his cell, the words Jack McCoy flashed across the screen. "I'm sorry, I need to take this."

Olivia moved to step away from Rafael to give him privacy for his phone call but he pulled her into his left side, cradling her under his arm. He rubbed soothing circles on her back as he spoke to McCoy. She tried not to listen but it wouldn't have made much difference if she had. Rafael's responses were clipped and it was clear that he was responding to whatever Jack was asking. "Yes…Yes…Are you sure?...I understand."

'Fuck' she heard Rafael breathe out after hitting end on his call. "Liv, I'm sorry, but McCoy is calling me to his office." He looked pained. "I've tried to put him off but he's insisting that it's urgent."

"It's okay, I understand." She gave a small shrug. "Duty calls."

He shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. Shifting closer to her, he lifted his hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Are you sure? I know how difficult this is going to be for you….I can try to be here."

She couldn't bear the thought of him feeling guilty about doing his job, he had been nothing but supportive. "It's okay Rafa, I'm serious. I have Fin and the others here to have my back." She gave him a soft smile. "I know that you'll be here in spirit and just knowing that means more than I can explain right now."

"I'm always with you. Never doubt that." He gave her a small, soft kiss on her left cheek before gathering his things to head out to meet McCoy, pausing just before he made it to the doorway. Looking down at his wrist, he suddenly had an idea. "Why don't you take my watch?" At Olivia's puzzled expression, he explained, "wear it, look down at it if you need a reminder that I'm here in your corner."

"Rafa," she exhaled. "I don't know what to say." Tears glistened in her eyes as she was overwhelmed with gratitude. "That's one of the nicest things.." her voice caught as it wobbled with emotion, "…one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me."

"Come on now," he soothed, "I didn't want to make you cry again." He took her left hand gently in his, using the opportunity to run his thumb across her knuckles. Taking her watch off delicately, he placed his on her wrist and fastened it in place. "So it's a little big but hopefully I'll only be gone for a few hours. Do you think this will work?"

She nodded in response, not trusting her voice at the moment. He gave her hand one last squeeze before taking his leave to 1 Hogan Place.

Fin appeared in her office moments later, confusion etched on his brow. "Barba's leaving? Now?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "McCoy needs something," she added 'urgently' in air quotes. She took her seat behind her desk.

"Far be it from me to question the District Attorney but that man has the absolute worst timing."

"You're not wrong."

Fin took a seat across from Olivia. "Amanda and Carisi are looking into the information that Templeton provided but I don't think there is going to be a lot there." He reached across the desk and patted Olivia's hand in an attempt to provide comfort. "I don't think he knew much. He gave the hand off location and a vague description of what the man looked like. We'll look into that but if this is connected to a case that Organized Crimes is working on, they're likely our best bet."

Olivia let out a sigh, giving her long time friend a nod in agreement.

"How are you feeling?" Fin asked. "Do you know what you're going to doing when Stabler arrives?"

She closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. "Honestly, no idea. My first instinct is to hide away in my office but knowing that isn't an option, I'll let Dodds take the lead." Remembering that her friend also had a history with their former colleague, she asked, "how are you feeling about his return?"

Fin shrugged, "it is what it is. Stabler is who he is, always did what he wanted." He diverted his gaze for a second before looking back at her. "Underneath it, he's a good guy but I learned to stop relying on him before he left." He shifted forward in his seat, his actions suggesting that he wanted her to hear the importance of his next words. "If he does anything to hurt you or Noah, I'll drive him out into the middle of nowhere and his body will never be found."

Olivia chuckled. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Fin nodded his head towards her hand. "I see that you have some new bling."

Olivia couldn't stop the rosy hue that bloomed across her cheeks. "Barba…he gave me his watch…" she didn't know how to explain without delving into her changing relationship with the ADA.

Thankfully she was spared by Fin, he raised his hands to stop her. "He has your back, I'm just happy that he's here for you in a way that you need right now. Barba's a good guy." Olivia smiled in appreciation.

A sharp knock had them both turning towards the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt," Amanda apologized. "Dodds, Bell, Stabler and some other detectives from Organized Crime just arrived. Carisi is setting them up at the meeting table, showing them what we currently have on the board."

Olivia huffed, "I guess it's showtime."

__________________________________________

"Dodds," she nodded towards the Deputy Chief, "Sergeant Bell, Detective Stabler for coming in to provide your expertise on this case." She glanced quickly in Elliot's direction, purposefully avoiding holding his gaze for too long.

"Whatever we can do to help. The Deputy Chief brought us up to speed on the way over here," Bell responded. "I had my squad pull some information quickly, which is here in this file. They'll send anything else they uncover to your detectives."

There were a few other people standing with Bell and Stabler. After a brief round of introductions, Olivia learned they were detectives in Bell’s unit.

As she had hoped, Dodds took the lead on guiding the discussion and the group spent the next 45 minutes going over all the details that had been uncovered in the case. Bell and Elliot provided theories on who Templeton was referencing: Richard Wheatley. The owner of a pharmaceutical company they believe had close ties to the Mafia, who were using it as a front for an illegal narcotics ring. He and Elliot had several run ins since the inception of Organized Crimes, with the later never quite finding enough information to bring forward any charges.

As Olivia listened to the discussion, she couldn't help analyze her current situation. The only word Olivia could think of to describe being face to face with Elliot Stabler for the first time in 10 years was 'anticlimactic'. Throughout the years she had built this moment up in her head to be a grandiose reunion but there he stood, looking only slightly older than the last time she saw him. A man that she knew better than herself at one point in her life was now just a memory. A memory she kind of wanted to punch in the face at the moment.

She could feel his eyes boring holes into the side of her face, almost like he was willing her to look at him but she kept her resolve by refusing to look unless it was warranted. Feeling the weight of Rafael's watch on her wrist helped to keep her grounded and she found herself twirling it around her wrist when she needed to be reminded of her current life, how far she'd come in Elliot's absence.

"Liv, are there any other details about…it's Noah?" he asked for confirmation. At her nod, he continued, "about Noah's disappearance that could help?"

She knew that he saw her flinch at the use of her nickname, a moniker that was second nature when they were partners. She also knew that it wouldn't have escaped him that she was using his full name or detective when addressing him but she found that she didn't care how he felt about either observations.

"Nothing," she supplied, keeping her response succinct.

"Okay, I'm going to ask the obvious question that we haven't talked about," Amanda started. "If this is Wheatley looking to get some sort of revenge or send a message, why would he think that Olivia and Noah would be the way to do that? You haven't had contact with Liv for ten years."

"He's a sick bastard, what other reason does there need to be? He probably knows my history with the force and that Liv is my longest partnership." Elliot crossed his arms, shifting his shoulders back. Olivia wanted to roll her eyes at the movement. Same old Elliot, posturing to intimidate and shut down an argument. She couldn't fathom how she had ever found this man charming. From the second that he stepped into her squad room, he was nothing but rude to her detectives -- he was a bully.

Olivia saw Fin and Rollins exchange a glance, their expressions reflecting their awareness of the hostility emanating from him. Carisi, ever the optimist, chimed in with a hopeful note, trying to find logic in chaos. "But there has to be another reason, right? You don’t just take a commanding officer’s son. That's asking for a spotlight."

Elliot’s response was guttural, a growl of frustration as he looked away, "He’s just a piece of shit criminal with impulse control problems." The room could feel the bitterness of his words, "I doubt he's put that much thought into how this is going to play out for him."

"But you've been looking into this man for months, right?" Carisi reasoned. "He's got to have some intelligence to avoid getting caught for so long."

That hit a nerve.

"Do you have trouble understanding?" Elliot took a step in Carisi's direction. "You called me here to provide insight on the way Wheatley operates and don't seem to be grasping that there is no reasoning to him. He's scum."

"Guys," Dodds interjected. "This isn't helping the situation. Let's go over what we know." Turning to Bell, he recapped, "so you have a list of known locations that Wheatley could potentially stash Noah. Any known associates he would trust to watch over a child?"

Ayanna thought for a moment before turning to Stabler to ask, "What about Angela?"

"The ex-wife?" Dodds inquired.

"No way," Elliot protested. "There's no way that Angela is involved in this."

"Maybe not willingly," Bell offered. "But if he lied, positioned it like he was asking her for help. She might, if a child is involved." She quickly glanced in Olivia's direction, willing Elliot to comprehend what she was trying to do. "Do we want to start with a more grim theory?" she whispered.

Elliot let out a sigh. "Okay, I know where Angela is currently living, we can start there."

Chapter Text

"You!" The thunderous exclamation clapped around the precinct. A surge of voices hushed as if swallowed by the walls when Barba’s silhouette darkened the precinct doorway.

At the sound, Olivia whirled around, her pulse leaping seeing an enraged Barba, his predatory gazed latched onto Elliot. Even from across the room, she could feel his fury rolling off him in waves. His energy felt strong, feral and she couldn't stop her body's reaction to him, desire rolling up through her body emanating from her core.

"This is because of you, you son of a bitch!" he accused, pointing at Elliot.

Before Barba’s foot hit the ground in Elliot’s direction, Olivia’s voice sliced through the room, “Fin! Help!” Her plea was sharp, desperate. She could envision the collision of the two men— part of her wanted nothing more than to see Elliot beaten to a bloody pulp but she knew he would have the upper hand and the last thing she needed was the two of them covered in wounds.

Fin intercepted Barba at the halfway mark with precision that years of taking down perps had honed. “Goddamn, Barba!” His arms locked around the attorney like two steel bands, but Barba was a force, pushing against Fin with unyielding determination, their shoes scuffing along the floor. Rafael pushed Fin towards his target, his fierce gaze never leaving Stabler.

“Carisi, now!” Detective Tututola shouted in desperation.

Detective Carisi lunged from his desk, his arms joining Fin’s in a desperate bid to anchor Barba’s storm. "Jesus Christ, Counsellor!" The Italian man exclaimed.

“What the fuck is happening?” Elliot’s voice rang out in confusion amidst the chaos. Olivia hardly registered it; her focus was honed on Rafael, the man in the eye of the tornado he brought into the office. She approached, her hand outstretched.

She placed it gently on Rafael's shoulder and softly said his name as though he was a scared animal she was trying to soothe. "Rafa." Her voice was a whisper meant for him alone. "Rafa, look at me," she implored. For a moment, it seemed as if her pleas were falling on deaf ears, but gradually, the intensity in Rafael's eyes began to wane, his focused gaze softening as he finally met hers.

Elliot watched, a frown etching his features as he witnessed the intimacy of their connection.

The precinct fell silent, everyone acutely aware of the unfolding drama.

She pushed down her discomfort that she was about to be vulnerable in front of so many witnesses, her boss included, but she needed to say these words to him, needed him to hear them again. Keeping her voice low, to keep her words for the two of them, "I need…you're my rock remember, my partner, and the only reason I haven't crumbled. I need your calming, unwavering strength…I need you."

His breath hitched, and the fury in his eyes ebbed into something raw and human. Olivia knew that her Rafa was back.

"Liv," he breathed out. He wrapped his left hand around the back of her head and pulled her forehead to his, luxuriating in the contact for a brief moment. He breathed in deeply. "I'm sorry." He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "It seems that you and Noah are my kryptonite." He shrugged and gave her a self-deprecating smirk. "But I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Her gratitude was heartfelt as she gripped his hand. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Flicking her eyes down to her watch. "This was more helpful than you can imagine."

Feeling the weight of the room's gaze, especially Elliot's—intense and searching—Olivia knew she needed a reprieve from the scrutiny. She had never called him ‘Rafa’ in the company of anyone besides Lucy or Noah, nor had she engaged in such intimate contact. It left her feeling exposed. “Do you need a moment? Fin can take you to interrogation room A." Her eyes implored him to understand.

Rafael nodded, a silent acknowledgement of what she was asking. "I do need to talk to you -- it's very important -- but will take a few minutes. Thank you, Liv -- for bringing me back to myself." With one last hand squeeze that conveyed more than words ever could, he turned, allowing Fin to guide him away from the crowd that had watched him transform into a person he didn't recognize.

As Olivia watched the men retreat, she felt Amanda slowly shift to move beside her. Turning to face she saw Amanda give a small nod signalling that she wanted to step to the corner of the room. Olivia followed her detective away from the rest of the group, who were listening to Elliot go over details about Angela Wheatley.

"Sorry Liv, not to add to an already stressful situation but how did Barba know that was Detective Stabler? They've never met before, right?"

Olivia let out a quiet gasp — Amanda was right. She hoped that stepping away from Elliot helped Rafael calm his emotions because although she suggested a few minutes, Olivia needed to talk to him right now.

Chapter Text

Rafael paced around the interrogation room like a caged animal, the soles of his dress shoes leaving scuff marks in his wake. He clenched and unclenched his fists, channeling the pent-up rage coursing through him. His breaths came out in sharp huffs, a testament to his effort to stay calm. Olivia's calming presence had helped but he could feel himself getting worked up again.

"Calm down, Counsellor," Fin piped up. "You're making me dizzy and creating a track on the floor."

Rafael muttered "sorry," as he edged closer to the wall and leaned his forehead against it. The cooling sensation of the rough, gray brick, soothing his mind, letting him collect his thoughts. When he arrived at the precinct, he hadn’t meant to have the reaction he did but as soon as he saw Elliot, his mind replayed the conversation with McCoy. Every time he thought to the file tucked away in his briefcase, he couldn't help the torrent of anger and fear that overtook him.

Rafael had rushed over to McCoy's office, the logic of the sooner he got their meeting over with, the sooner he could get back to Olivia was the driving force. McCoy's assistant had been expecting him and waved him through on arrival. Upon entering, he was greeted by the sight of his boss standing near the large window, looking out at the people walking on the streets below. McCoy's arms crossed behind his back. In the shadowed profile cast by the sunlight, Jack's figure loomed, an unspoken authority in the room. Had he not know McCoy, Rafael would have found the sight intimidating.

He cleared his throat to get Jack's attention.

The senior attorney whipped around at the noise. "Ah, Rafael, thank you for coming so quickly." Jack nodded towards the plush, leather chairs in front of his large, weathered mahogany desk. " Sit. I'll make this quick. I know how much you want to get back to your team."

Once the two men were settled in their respective chairs, Jack continued, "I wanted to give you an update on an ongoing investigation that I believe is pertinent to your case." Jack opened the top drawer in his desk and pulled out a tan coloured file folder. "There is an ongoing investigation into the Organized Crimes unit -- 1PP suspects there is a leak, someone on the inside working for Richard Wheatley, a known affiliate of the Mafia."

McCoy pulled some information from the file, fanning it out on the desk for Barba. The papers included various phone records, police reports, receipts but Rafael's eyes landed on something that made him feel sick to his stomach. Amongst all the documents were two photos of Olivia and her son. They had been taken from a distance, one of her picking Noah up from his school and the other was of the two of them eating at a diner. Rafael felt tears bubble up as his eyes fell to Noah’s chocolatey smile. They were eating dessert and as usual, half of Noah’s sundae ended up on his face. Barba involuntarily reached out and softly ran his hand over the picture, almost as if he was trying to will the image into reality.

“I…” Rafael’s voice wobbled. “What am I looking at? What are you trying to tell me?”

“You’ve heard from your suspect the possible connection to Detective Elliot Stabler. If that is true, the man who likely hired him is Richard Wheatley.” McCoy continued, pointing at the photos of Olivia and her son. "These two photos were pulled off of the Organized Crimes server. Based on the data that TARU has pulled, it looks like these were taken and saved by Stabler."

The air seemed to evacuate Rafael’s lungs, his chest constricting as he stared at the photos. "He?" the ADA looked at his boss, the unspoken question shining in his wet eyes.

Jack's fingers tapped a staccato rhythm on the polished mahogany, punctuating the silence. "All I know is these were found on the server as potential files that had been accessed. I don't know Stabler's intent for taking them."

He swallowed "Does Dodds know all of this?"

"Yes. This investigation has been going on for two months. He called me just before I called you to let me know about the potential connection to Wheatley." McCoy responded. "Although I'm not sure how he plans on playing this with the SVU team now that the Organized Crimes unit has been pulled in. He might be planning on keeping this from Olivia, he's keeping his cards close to his chest on this one." The senior litigator paused, before adding, "not that I blame him. It must be hard knowing who to trust."

"He can't do that!" Barba's sudden outburst caused Jack to shift back in his seat slightly. Reigning in his emotions, the younger man continued more calmly, "she has a right to know, Jack."

"Look, this isn't my call." Jack gave Rafael a small smirk, "but it is my call on whether I inform my staff of what I know."

There had always been a tension between Rafael and the man across from him. Both men were opinionated and usually hellbent on getting their way, which has lead to a handful of intense disagreements. But Rafael has never felt more grateful to be working for Jack McCoy. "Thank you sir."

"I know how much the child means to you -- how much his mother means to you," Jack responded, a knowing glint in his eyes. At Rafael's stunned silence, he continued, "you know how much the walls in this office talk, the stories that circulate about the two of you."

"Sir, I…" Rafael faltered. "Nothing has happened between me and Olivia. But you're right, I do care about her and Noah, very much." He decided to stay silent on the wonderful kiss and Olivia had shared less an hour ago. Until they had a chance to talk about it's meaning, it was nobody's business but their own.

Jack raised his hand as to brush off Rafael's response. "I never believe the gossip I hear in the hallways but I do have eyes Rafael. I see how you look at her -- how she looks at you."

He felt heat bloom across his cheeks. He tried not to let Jack's words fluster him but he felt like a teenager again who was being grilled by a determined Lucia Barba trying to get him to reveal the name of his high school crush.

McCoy took pity on the ADA. "When you're ready, come tell me. You'll have nothing but support from this office." Jack started gathering the documents up to place back in the file. "I like Benson. She's smart, strong as hell and you two are great partners." He handed the file over to Barba. "This is your copy. Now get back to your team."

Rafael carefully placed the file into his briefcase, feeling the weight of its contents heavier than the paper it was printed on. He gave Jack a nod, steeped in gratitude, and left the office with the resolve to protect his team — his family.

Back in the interrogation room, he punched his fist into the wall, the burst of pain it brought was a much-needed distraction. He looked up at Fin, the SVU detective was watching him with a critical eye, as though he was trying to decipher the thoughts in Rafael's head. The door swung open with force, the sound of it bouncing off the wall reverberated in the small room. The two men turned to see Olivia Benson standing in the doorframe, eyes blazing with determination.

"Barba --what the hell was that all about?"

Chapter Text

The instant their eyes met, the storm of Rafael's anger dissolved, as if her gaze had the power to calm the hurricane within him.

Olivia's stance was resolute, her features were etched with her unwavering determination to bring her boy home. He watched her for a moment, the burden that Jack had bestowed on him sat heavy on his chest. Rafael knew that the foundation of their partnership was built on trust and openness, yet he found himself at an impasse, grappling with the decision on what he should tell her about the file he could feel burning a hole through his briefcase.

Rafael turned to Fin, who had been quietly observing from the corner. "Fin, could you please find the Deputy Chief and ask him to join us? It's urgent." Fin's departure was swift, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity in Rafael's voice.

Momentarily lost for words, Rafael felt the weight of the situation pressing upon him.

"Well," Olivia's voice broke through his hesitation, frustration threading her tone. "Talk to me, Rafa. What happened with McCoy that had you storming into the office in a blind rage?"

Rafael's discomfort was palpable, "can you please take a seat? Speaking more to himself, he added, "yeah, I think we need to be sitting." Once they had both taken up spots at the cold, metal table, Rafael grabbed his briefcase and took out the file. As he started to spread the contents before her, he continued with urgency, “we have only a few moments before Dodds arrives, so let me explain as much as I can now.”

"God, you're making me nervous."

The lawyer took a deep breath before starting his explanation, "Jack called me over to give me an update on an ongoing investigation into the Organized Crimes unit. They suspect an informant -- someone leaking information to a criminal named Richard Wheatley."

Olivia interjected, "that's who Bell and Stabler identified as the person who is likely behind this."

Rafael picked up the two photos, he was dreading this part of the conversation but knew he had to get this out. He looked at Olivia, trying to convey as much empathy as he could in his expression. "These photos were amongst the documents that may be tied to the leak."

Taking the photos in her hand, Olivia let out a strangled gasp that pained Rafael to hear. "Oh my god. I don't understand. Why do these exist?" she demanded to know.

"I don't know much," Rafael responded. "Jack could only tell me that these were taken by Detective Stabler and stored on their office server."

"That bastard!" Olivia shouted, violently throwing the photos back on the table. "I'll strangle him! Beat any piece of information out of him that I can with my bare hands."

"Liv," Barba said in a tone meant to soothe her, "you need to calm down.

She glared at him, and he shrunk down in his chair. An angry Olivia Benson was a sight to behold and he usually had the luxury of admiring her fierce beauty from the sidelines but when her anger was directed at him, it was downright terrifying.

Olivia lashed out at him. "Calm down? How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?"

"Just take a deep breath.."

"Don't you fucking…"

Her response was cut short as the room was pierced by the grating screech of metal on metal, a sound that spoke of years of use and too little care. The door burst open with such force that it seemed to cut through the tension in the room. The aged hinges protested loudly, announcing the arrival of the Deputy Chief. His eyes zeroed in on the papers strewn on the table. "Fucking McCoy," the exasperated words tumbled out of his lips. He turned to Fin who was on his tail and commanded, "Detective Tutuola, please wait outside and make sure no one comes in this room." Before Fin walked out the door Dodds added, "oh, and please make sure the intercom stays off."

"Sure thing," the detective replied, as he hustled to get himself away from the pissed off Deputy Chief.

Once the door clicked in place, Olivia let her outrage loose, "what the fuck is this Dodds?"

Deputy Chief Dodds raised his hands, signaling for calm. "I intended to discuss it once we had a private moment. The connections weren't clear until just recently..."

Before he could finish, Olivia cut in, her voice sharp with urgency, "Why was I not informed the moment these were found?"

"Olivia," Dodds began, a note of weariness in his voice as he massaged the bridge of his nose, "consider the magnitude of a potential leak within the NYPD and its far-reaching consequences. We had to validate the evidence thoroughly before widening the circle of knowledge." His eyes flicked to Barba, betraying a flicker of irritation, then returned to Olivia. "Rest assured, it was all on a strict need-to-know basis." Holding her gaze steadily, he continued, "believe me, if there was any hint of danger to you or your son, I wouldn't have hesitated to enact every safeguard." A brief pause underscored his sincerity. "It was only after a comprehensive scan of departmental records, initiated due to your son's disappearance, that we stumbled upon these images. They emerged from an initial data pull months back, unnoticed until our recent deeper probe revealed we had photographs involving you."

Olivia let out a huff, shoulders falling in defeat, "fine, I accept that there were some circumstances that were out of your control. But I want to know about this investigation, and be kept in the loop going forward." She demanded, "do you understand?"

Dodds replied, "you have my word that you will know everything that I know."

Satisfied with his response, Olivia proceeded to ask her first question. "Does Ayanna know?"

"She knows that her team is under watch," Dodds explained, "but it was positioned as a security precaution, given the line of work they're in. She doesn't know there is an investigation into the loyalty of her team, or the possible corruption."

Rafael's legal mind, always looking at a situation from every angle, pieced together what Dodds wasn't saying. "You suspect it's her."

Dodds nodded. "We did," he responded but quickly added, "but not anymore. Especially not with what has recently happened." His sympathetic gaze flicked briefly to Olivia.

"Elliot?" Olivia prompted, dreading to know the answer if it was true.

Dodds let out a frustrated sigh. "As thick as that man is, no, we don't think he's involved in the leak. We don't think he would willingly put your son at risk."

"Willingly?" Olivia questioned.

"So you saw the photos," Dodds explained, "he was looking into you and your son." Before she could ask him to elaborate, Dodds supplied, "and no, I don't know why. That's a question that you'll need to ask him." He continued, "but he was using NYPD resources for his -- uh reconnaissance, so they were pulled as part of the ongoing investigation."

Rafael asked, "why do you not suspect him anymore? If it's not Elliot then who?"

Dodds took a seat at the table and started shuffling through the files. "Most of the documents we suspect are part of the leak have one commonality," he paused before adding, "they were all accessed by Detective Gamble."

"He's the man who came with Bell and Stabler," Olivia inquired. "The one who did the first profile on Wheatley?"

Dodds nodded. "That's him. The timeline of when we think the leak started and when he joined the team also matches up." Dodds let out a long sigh, "I really hate to say this Olivia but if he is our leak, the fact that he didn't make any form of protest when Angela was suggested as a suspect means Noah probably isn't with her."

A sob broke from Olivia. Rising, Barba moved to stand behind her, offering a gentle touch to her shoulders, a silent offer of comfort. "Liv," he whispered, his voice a soft anchor in the turmoil of her emotions, "we're on this. Every piece of the puzzle we gather, no matter how small, is a step toward finding him. Even if Angela doesn't pan out, it brings us closer to Noah."

Gratitude flickered through Olivia's distress as she reached up to acknowledge Barba's steady presence, her hand briefly squeezing his. "But why would Gamble or Wheatley even care about me... or Noah?"

"Templeton wasn't lying," Dodds supplied. "Detective Stabler is like a dog without a bone on this. I'm not going to sugar coat it, let's just call a spade, a spade -- he's harassing Wheatley." The Deputy Chief paused before adding, "I really shouldn't be saying this to you but putting aside the fact that he's misused NYPD resources, Detective Stabler is going beyond what we can justify as reasonable pressure. He'll likely be forced to take early retirement when this is all over." Turning to Rafael, Dodds asked, "did McCoy tell you anything about these photos?"

The lawyer responded, "just that they were taken and saved by Stabler."

Dodds rolled his eyes. "The saved part is important -- I can't believe he just glossed over it." Dodds picked up one of the photos to look at it, almost to remind himself what this was all about. "These were on the server, that's correct -- but it was obvious to anyone looking for them that these were personal — not linked to any case. These combined with Stabler's history with you --they probably figured they could use you or Noah to hurt him."

Olivia picked up the second photo and examined it closely. That still didn’t make sense, Elliot has children of his own and it would be easy for someone working in the NYPD to track down their information. "No," she started, "Carisi was right." At the confused expressions on the men's faces, she continued, "you don't kidnap the child of an NYPD commanding officer without putting yourself in the spotlight, a spotlight that shines all the way to the top -- maybe it's less about hurting Elliot and more about highlighting what Elliot's doing to Wheatley."

Dodds eyebrows raised in contemplation, "that's a good theory." He added, "if that is the case, then it's likely this isn't about hurting Noah."

"So where do we go from here?"

Dodds responded to Olivia, "I know this is going to be hard but you need to forget everything we just said and proceed like you were going to before entering this room." He continued, "you're going to need to follow up on the Angela Wheatley lead, even though it's a possible dead end."

"I can do that," Benson responded.

Dodds looked at Barba, "and you raging bull, are you going to be able to control yourself?"

Barba's gaze fell to the floor, a silent wave of remorse washing over him for his earlier outburst. "Yes," he affirmed, his nod more a gesture of resolve than mere agreement.

Dodds offered a sympathetic frown, acknowledging the complexity of emotions at play. "Look, your reaction was understandable," he reassured, his finger tapping on the stack of documents before him. "But let's ensure this file," he continued with emphasis, "is secured away. No eyes but ours — absolutely no one's — are to see what's inside." Rafael responded with another decisive nod, sealing the vow of confidentiality.

"As badly as Detective Stabler has been managing his case on Wheatley, he's not wrong," Dodds said. "He's a cunning man who can be dangerous when backed into a corner. We cannot risk tipping off Detective Gamble if he is the leak." Dodds stood up. "Now let's get back out there, I fear we've been in here too long 'comforting Olivia'," he added the last part in quotes, knowing that the two would understand what he was implying.

As the three prepared to head back into the squad room, a flicker of confusion shadowed Olivia's features as she remembered the original reason she entered this room. "Rafael, there's one thing I'm still not piecing together," she said, "you recognized Stabler immediately, but how? You hadn't met him before."

Rafael's response was a spontaneous burst of laughter, his tension breaking for a moment. "Please -- Detective Stabler's IAB file is practically a part of the SVU ADA onboarding package. It's under the 'what not to do' section." He continued, "it was handed to me less than a month after I started supporting your squad. I've known what he looks like for years." He muttered under his breath adding, "but he's aged terribly."

Dodds let out a small chuckle and Olivia responded, shaking her head, "why am I not surprised."

The Deputy Chief was the first to leave the room, as Olivia moved to leave, Barba grasped her wrist to hold her back. Taking her left hand in his, he twirled his loose fitting watch around her wrist. "I'm happy to let you continue to borrow this."

"Please," she whispered, "I like having you with me."

"When this is all over, I'll figure out a more permanent solution for that." Rafael's mouth twisted up into the smirk he saved just for her. "Before we head back out there, I just wanted to make sure that you're okay." His thumb stroked the underside of her jaw, fingers cupped gently behind her neck. "I know this is a lot."

"I'm just trying to keep my head above water, but honestly," she paused, "I feel like I'm drowning most of the time. Not as much when you're around -- you're my own personal life preserver." She grabbed the wrist that was on her neck, running her thumb over his pulse, "I just keep pushing myself forward towards the goal of having Noah back in my arms -- back to normal."

Rafael leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead, "how about when this is all over, I take you and Noah to spend a day at the zoo. There is nothing more normal than penguins."

"I'd really love that," her smile was soft, a reflection of her appreciation for Rafael's optimism that they'd find Noah.

"Good, it's a date." He nodded towards the squad room, "now let's get back out there before Dodds sends someone back to find us."

"Here goes nothing," Olivia responded. Pushing her shoulders back, she headed out of the interrogation room.

Rafael watched her retreating figure and whispered under his breath, "no. There goes my everything."

Chapter Text

Dodds' words were easier said than done. Olivia struggled to maintain her composure while facing Detectives Gamble and Stabler. She clenched her jaw tightly, a determined effort to hold back the harsh words that threatened to escape. Whenever Elliot caught her gaze, a sense of betrayal bubbled up in her throat.

Olivia took a moment to study Detective Terrence Gamble. He presented the quintessential image of a dedicated NYPD detective. His stature was athletic yet unassuming, and his demeanor exuded a calm professionalism. His hair was impeccably styled, and his clean-shaven face suggested a man who valued order and precision. His eyes, a deep and clear brown, were the sort to inspire trust and confidence. On the surface, Terrence's every gesture—from the way he displayed his badge to his firm, reassuring handshake—reinforced the image of a loyal law enforcer devoted to the city's safety. Even his smile, open and honest, seemed to be an emblem of his integrity. If Olivia didn't know the betrayal that hid under his carefully crafted mask, she might have considered him attractive.

While she struggled, Rafael seemed to fare even worse. With every covert glance she threw his way, she caught Rafael's intense stare at Gamble, his eyes burning with silent fury as if they could ignite flames. She found herself nudging Rafael discreetly, more than once, in an effort to break his scorching gaze and redirect his focus away from Gamble.

Elliot's keen detective eyes also took notice, catching every incendiary stare that Barba cast in his colleague's direction. He observed with a detective's curiosity, trying to piece together the puzzle of Barba's identity and the roots of his aggressive entrance. As Rafael's persistent glowering carried on, Olivia noticed Stabler's features contort into a deep scowl, signaling an impending confrontation. With her concerns mounting, she silently hoped they would locate her son before the two men came to blows.

After the two teams walked through the details that Organized Crime had on Angela Wheatley, they agreed the best approach would be for Bell, Stabler and Benson to head to Angela's apartment while the others monitored the perimeter for any suspicious activity. As Sergeant Bell meticulously outlined the operation, Elliot interrupted, "I didn't catch your name." His intense, azure stare anchored on Barba.

Olivia's eyes lingered on Barba as he rose to his full height, shoulders squared and tie meticulously adjusted. A smile crept upon her face, a private amusement at his ritualistic preparation of his courtroom armor. His actions of readiness were charmingly familiar, and once again she found herself luxuriating in the calmness that Rafael's closeness brought her.

Rafael, now poised, turned to Elliot. "Rafael Barba, Assistant District Attorney for the Sex Crimes Bureau," he declared, his voice carrying a steel-clad certainty.

Elliot's tone sharpened, "Okay, now that I understand who you are -- I fail to understand why you're here," the bite in Elliot's voice making the entire squad room tense.

In a deft tilt of his head, Barba threw the challenge right back, "I'm here helping my partner and her team -- just like I do and will continue to do on every case." The word 'partner' resonated in the air, and Elliot's involuntary flinch did not escape Olivia's notice.

Elliot sneered, his voice cold and mocking. "I'm struggling to see the use for a lawyer here." He continued, "if you insist on occupying valuable space can you try to cut back on the hostility—or is it jealousy?" The smirk that followed was sharp, as pointed as his words.

"Jealousy?" Rafael's retort came hot and fast, "Why on earth would I be—" His indignant rebuttal was abruptly silenced by Olivia's soothing touch, her fingers pressing gently against his chest. Her eyes locked with his, a silent plea whispered.

Elliot's gaze dropped to Olivia's hand, his eyes widening in recognition as if he'd just found the missing piece of a puzzle. "Just Christ, Liv?" the horror evident in his voice. "A lawyer?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she ground out, ignoring the insinuation Elliot was making. "And don't call me Liv, Detective Stabler."

"Liv…" he murmured, a softness breaking through the hardness in his eyes.

"I'm serious, whatever it is you THINK that you've figured out - it's none of your damn business."

It was Sergeant Ayanna Bell's authoritative voice that sliced through the mounting tension, redirecting their focus. "Let's focus on the case at hand -- we're here to work." She cast a pointed look at Elliot before pivoting towards the freshly pinned map on the bulletin board. "Angela's apartment is our target," she declared, pinpointing the location. "I want teams stationed here, here, and here," her finger tapped the map decisively for emphasis.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Olivia echoed her sentiment, "Thanks, Sergeant Bell. Alright, team, we roll out in fifteen— grab what you need."

Olivia caught Rafael's eye and gestured towards her office hoping that she could catch a few minutes with him. She knew that he would want to go with the team but she couldn't afford to have him there in case the situation turned dangerous. Once the door clicked in place she turned to him and said, "Rafa, I need you to stay back at the precinct."

"But Liv," he started to protest but she quickly cut him off.

“Noah’s probably not with Angela. But if it’s a trap…” She stepped closer, their proximity an unspoken bond. “I can’t have anything happen to you.” His lips parted, ready to counter, but she forestalled him with a gentle squeeze of his hands. "I will call you immediately if we find him there and the first thing we're going to do is come to you -- I promise."

Rafael brought her hands up to his mouth and delicately placed a kiss on each of her hands in a silent acknowledgement of her ask. A lightness flickered across his features, as he quipped, "so that Stabler sure is an asshole, huh?"

The laugh that bubbled up from Olivia was pure and unguarded, it sent a wave of warmth through Rafael’s heart.

______________________

Elliot's stare lingered intently on Olivia's office door, a mix of emotions brewing behind his eyes as he watched her vanish inside with that insufferable Rafael Barba. He knew that there was something going on with those two. Barba he understood -- she is a gorgeous woman but he was failing to see what Olivia could possibly see in a lawyer, this one in particular.

Olivia had always possessed a beauty that was arresting, the kind that could catch your breath in your throat, as it did the first time he saw her. Time had only refined her features; she was a portrait of the past, aged yet somehow more radiant, an inner light now shining through that seemed new to him. She was more than stunning—she was captivating.

He had hoped to catch a moment alone with her after the meeting, but Barba had swooped in first. Elliot's reunion with Olivia, sprung from necessity, not choice, left many things unsaid between them that he wanted to rectify as soon as possible. His return to New York over a year ago had been shadowed by the fallout of his divorce from Kathy, and despite the pull of his old life—especially Olivia—he had hesitated, unsure of the welcome he might receive.

In the time since, his focus had been twofold: piecing back together the fragments of his personal identity and restoring the life he had once known. Rejoining the NYPD was the cornerstone of his new beginning; it gave him purpose and direction. He had secured a new home, forged stronger ties with his children in the city, and slowly, the fragments began to form a coherent whole. Now, he felt the ground beneath him was stable enough to possibly reintegrate Olivia into this new chapter. The priority was finding her son, but after, he clung to the hope of renewing the bond they once shared.

Interrupting his deep thoughts, Detective Gamble stepped up with an expression that suggested he was in on the secret. "So that's the renowned Olivia Benson, huh?" A teasing smile danced on his lips, both playful and insightful. "I'm beginning to see what the fuss is about."

Elliot's own smile was an echo of Gamble's. "Keep it to yourself, buddy," he replied, his tone casual yet firm.

______________________

Fin, Carisi, and Amanda stood in the dimly lit corridor by their open lockers, the metallic clang of equipment being gathered echoed off the concrete walls as they prepared for the operation.

Carisi, propped against the cool metal door, shattered the silence with a candid remark, "I've got to say it -- that was unbelievably awkward."

"No shit," Fin responded, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement as the trio shared a knowing look.

Amanda, her fingers deftly checking her sidearm, turned to Fin with a quizzical arch of her brow. "So, what's the deal with the impromptu meeting between Dodds, Benson, and Barba?" She probed further, "did it have anything to do with Liv and Barba staring daggers at Stabler and Gamble?"

Fin shook his head. "I don’t know man, but Dodds was pretty insistent that whatever they were talking about remain private." He nodded in the direction of the squad room. "except for Elliot, I don't know those Organized Crimes folks, so I'd try to keep any theories to yourself."

Amanda, her eyes lingering on the photo-covered bulletin board pondered briefly. "Changing gears—did anyone else pick up on how touchy-feely Olivia and Barba have been since this morning?" She hesitated, then with a tilt of her head noted, "Olivia's been fidgeting with a new watch that's dangling loose, and Barba's wrist is conspicuously bare."

Fin's smirk was a silent seal of discretion. "I'm staying out of this one."

Carisi, gazing off to a distant point, let out a wistful sigh. "I think it's really sweet," he mused, his voice tinged with fondness.

______________________

In the charged atmosphere of the squad room, the clock marked exactly fifteen minutes since Olivia's command. The two teams, clad in their operational gear, gathered in a tense huddle. Dodds cast a hopeful glance at the assembled officers, offering a solemn nod of luck and a promise that he would be back after the operation had been completed.

The plan was set, and their roles were clear. Olivia would ride with Bell and Stabler, the key trio taking Bell's car.

Amanda and Carisi would be stationed nearby in an unmarked car, vigilant and ready to provide backup or pursue if needed. On the street, keeping a discreet watch, Gamble would position himself strategically, eyes sharp for any sign of trouble or unexpected developments. Meanwhile, Fin and Detective Jet Slootmaekers, a member of the Organized Crimes unit, would hold the rear in the police van, equipped with gear and able to coordinate communication amongst the team.

The group departed, but Olivia paused, her hand fleetingly touching the precinct's door frame. She turned to Barba, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions, "I promise, you won't be out of the loop."

Rafael responded, his voice thick with emotion, a testament to the gravity of the situation. "Go get our boy," his words were a whisper, a poignant mixture of hope and fear.

______________________

Rafael's composure shattered in less than ten minutes after the team departed. Restlessness propelled him from his seat, his footsteps echoing in the squad room as he paced. Overwhelmed by a suffocating sense of helplessness, he roamed with aimless urgency, his mind racing for a solution, only to grasp at straws. Exhausted, he collapsed into the nearest chair, the force of his own frustration driving him downward. Cradling his head in his hands, he exhaled a weary huff, fingers entwined in his hair. With a grimace, he tugged at the dark locks, almost as if he was expecting the pain to kindle a spark of brilliance.

He lifted his eyes, allowing them to rest on the walls lined with commendations and memories of cases closed. Working with this team had been the most fulfilling thing he had done his entire career. Although they all gave each other a hard time, he knew that they valued him and his contribution to their cases. Now, with Noah's safety at stake, his personal stakes clouded his professional judgement. He needed to recalibrate, to engage with this case as he had countless others.

An idea sparked. Snatching up his phone with renewed purpose, he thumbed through his contacts and initiated the call. The line rang twice before a voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Rita, it's me," Rafael's voice was even, infused with a newfound resolve. "I have a favour to ask of you."

Chapter Text

As the clock passed 9 pm, the vibrant pulse of New York City continued unabated, its energy seemingly undiminished by the descent into night. Amidst this bustling cityscape, the grand apartment building where Angela Wheatley resided was the epitome of elegance. The entrance, bathed in the soft, warm glow of tastefully positioned lights, welcomed visitors with an air of exclusivity. A courteous doorman offered a respectful greeting, ushering guests into the opulent embrace of the lobby. Inside, the atmosphere was one of understated luxury; the marble floors shimmered under the ambient lighting, while the art-adorned walls spoke of a refined aesthetic sensibility.

Angela's apartment, nestled high above the streets, provided a sanctuary from the city's ceaseless rhythm. The hallway leading to her residence was quiet, the soft, plush tan carpet muting the footsteps of those who passed through.

Even at this late hour, the neighbourhood around the building thrummed with life. chic restaurants and exclusive shops, though quieter now, still held the allure of the city's cultural heartbeat. The September air, crisp and invigorating, carried with it the promise of the coming autumn, adding a fresh dimension to the night.

The detectives were in their assigned positions outside, with the exception of Detective Gamble -- a last minute change had him in the lobby with the concierge as he would have access to security cameras placed all over the building. Once everyone was in place, Olivia, Bell, and Stabler went up to the 15th floor to Angela's apartment.

After exiting the elevator, the group turned left and walked down a hallway that ended in a juncture. Olivia quietly observed Elliot's familiarity with the layout as he confidentially took a left and continued to the end of the hallway, almost as if he had been here before.

As the trio approached Angela's door, Elliot turned to the women and said, "it might be best if you let me take the lead on this." He added, "we've interacted before -- she knows me."

Olivia nodded her head in agreement.

It took less than a minute after Elliot knocked on the door for Angela to answer. Dressed in a casual outfit, a palette of charcoal and cream draped her form in classic lines. Her hair cascaded in dark loose waves, tenderly framing the vibrant hazel of her eyes, that sparkled with a light curiosity upon seeing her late-night visitor.

Her lips curved into a gradual, knowing smile, an unspoken dialogue playing across her features. "Elliot Stabler," she greeted, her voice laced with a mixture of amusement and intrigue, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this late night visit?" She widened the door, leaning her posture against the frame, presenting an alluring invitation.

Olivia's eyes flicked to Elliot's profile, observing a faint unease in his demeanor. She also thought she detected the subtle rise of colour in his cheeks, the telltale sign of a blush.

With a subtle clearing of his throat, Elliot gestured casually with a thumb over his shoulder. "This is Lieutenant Olivia Benson," he introduced, then pivoted slightly to indicate the other woman. "And this," he continued, with a nod, "is Sergeant Ayanna Bell."

Angela's welcoming smile wavered for a moment as she took in the sight of the two officers. "A pleasure," she offered, though the tightness in her voice betrayed her concern. Her gaze flicked back to Elliot, searching his face for an unspoken clue. "Three officers on my doorstep so late in the evening? I presume there's a matter of some urgency." With a graceful sweep of her arm, she stepped back, inviting them into the sanctuary of her home. "Please, enter," Angela said, her tone a mix of cordiality and trepidation.

__________________

Across town, Rafael stood outside a building. The law firm of Crowder & Associates was housed within the commanding presence of a sleek commercial building in the heart of New York's bustling financial district. The building's exterior, a mosaic of reflective glass and polished steel, soared towards the sky, mirroring the ambition and stature of the city itself.

The office on the 7th floor had an entrance of imposing, dark wood that was both inviting and stately. It featured a large frosted glass panel that occupied the upper half, etched with the firm's name in bold letters. The font was modern, yet timeless and the firm's subtle but elegant logo was positioned just above the firm's name. Flanking the door were panels of the same frosted glass, providing privacy while still allowing the soft light from within to spill out casting a warm glow into the cool toned hallway.

Rafael had called Rita to ask if she knew who represented Contrapos, Richard Wheatley's pharmaceutical company, or the man himself. Telling him that she was on it, she called back less than 15 minutes later with the name Allen Crowder along with the address of his firm. Aware that it was a long shot, Rafael nonetheless decided to visit Crowder's office, if only to keep himself occupied. He knew that Liv would call him immediately with any news so he didn't need to be tied to the precinct.

While he knew that Crowder's foremost priority would be safeguarding his client's interests, Rafael held onto the hope that he might uncover some detail, some overlooked piece of information that would edge them closer to unraveling the case of Noah. This is how he helped the team, his legal prowess and navigating the network he had built throughout his career.

He was surprised to find light emanating from the office. Hours were late for private practice, and with such a high profile client, Rafael knew that Crowder and his team would have more than enough work on their hands. But it was after 9 pm so he had prepared himself for disappointment. Seeing the light ignited a glimmer of hope.

__________________

The four occupants in Angela Wheatley's apartment were seated in the living room. The open-concept home featured a backdrop of exposed brick, rough-textured, bathed in the lights from the street. It added a raw, earthy charm to the space and created an alluring contrast against the modern furniture. There were two couches, plush, draped in neutral fabrics, flanking a sleek coffee table. The white rug was soft under their feet and above industrial lights dangled like stars in the sky.

Angela nestled into one corner of the couch, Elliot sitting close by, while Bell and Olivia made themselves comfortable on the adjacent sectional. Elliot had briefed Angela on the purpose of their late call, to which Angela had regrettably informed them she neither had Noah in her care nor had she ever seen him before. Clasping a creased photograph of Noah in her left hand, she offered a helpless shrug. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be any help," she said with a hint of sorrow.

Elliot leaned forward earnestly. "Any detail, anything unusual you've noticed, might give us something to go on," he urged.

Angela's expression shifted, a mix of confusion and skepticism. "Do you really believe Richard is involved in this?" she asked, her tone laced with incredulity. "I know he's far from a saint but kidnapping a child? What makes you think he has something to do with this?"

Olivia piped in, "we have the suspect who took Noah in custody -- he implied that Richard may have some involvement."

Angela's demeanor hardened slightly as she addressed Olivia, "and you haven't considered the possibility he may be lying?"

Olivia maintained her composure, though the weight of the situation and Angela's icy demeanor bore down on her. "We're considering every angle," she assured. "All leads are being pursued."

Angela nodded, her eyes flickering to the photo in her hand. "I grasp the gravity of it," she breathed out, a tinge of regret in her voice. "I wish there was something I could offer—Noah looks like such a sweet child. But I'm at a loss myself -- I haven't heard anything that could be connected."

Olivia felt a wave of discouragement wash over her. She tried to hold little hope of uncovering Noah's whereabouts here, yet a part of her had clung to the possibility that Dodds was wrong. The fatigue of the long hours and the emotional toll of the case were beginning to erode her resolve.

__________________

Rafael's knuckles hovered inches from the door, poised to knock against the wood, when a familiar sound stopped his hand mid-air.

Chapter Text

The sound of the handgun's safety clicking reverberated around the corridor. His pulse hammered against his temples, a rush of adrenaline sharpening his senses. He took a measured breath, steadying his nerves, as his eyes narrowed on a sudden glint of metal against the light of the hallway.

An abrupt inquiry jolted him. "What do you think you're doing?"

His arm, poised in the air, lowered slightly. "I thought that I saw something," he muttered, more to himself than as an answer.

The response came not with concern but with a gruff impatience. "There are at least 20 other units on this floor."

He holstered his service weapon. "I could've sworn..." he trailed off. "I saw a flash of metal. Swear it could've been Wheatley."

"It was probably one of the other residents. Let's be careful," Olivia reasoned with Stabler. Aiming to ease the tension, she added, "we can check with Gamble downstairs to see if he caught anything suspicious on camera." Despite her suggestion, she was well aware that Gamble was unlikely to admit seeing anything to the team if Wheatley was there.

_________________

Across town, Rafael burst through the law office door, driven by a potent blend of hope and trepidation. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, he was struck by the realization of his impulsiveness—he should have called Olivia first but the laughter that cascaded through the air, so full of life and familiarity, melted his doubts away.

The clamor of the door swinging open drew the gazes of three onlookers. His breathing hitched as the smallest set of eyes met his—a pair of bright blue orbs alight with recognition. And just like that, any flicker of regret that had sparked within him was extinguished.

"Uncle Rafa!" a jubilant squeal rang out.

"Noah!" Rafael cried as he ran towards the boy. Dropping to his knees, he enveloped the child in a loving embrace, cradling him into the safety of his chest. As they knelt on the plush dark green carpet, Rafael inhaled the comforting scent of the boy's hair, and a soothing calm flowed through him.

"Where’s momma?" the little boy inquired, his curiosity painting his youthful face. His small hand rose, tenderly touching Rafael's cheek. The tiny, chubby fingers scrunching into the side of his face with familiarity. It was a touch as comforting as home, and Rafael felt his eyes welling with tears.

He responded to the little boy, voice rough with emotion. "We'll go find your momma in a bit, Uncle Rafa just needs to talk to your new friends." He looked up and wearily eyed the two other occupants in the space. He was struck by the man standing beside the expansive, dark cherry desk at the focal point of the lobby. His presence was as seasoned and commanding as one would expect from a veteran lawyer. His hair was a distinguished blend of gray and dark strands, neatly combed back, lending him an air of gravitas. His eyes, sharp and discerning, watched Rafael and Noah with curiosity.

Behind the desk sat a young woman, who despite her age held a poise and elegance one would normally associated with someone much older. Her attire was impeccable—a sharp, tailored blazer that was both stylish and professional, suggesting a keen fashion sense and an eye for detail. Her posture was upright, exuding an air of confidence that seemed to fill the room.

"Al-wen," Noah proclaimed pointing at the man, who let out a soft chuckle in response.

Rafael stood, still clutching Noah tightly in his arms, as the man moved towards him. The silhouette of the gentleman's suit was timeless, and the material whispered quality—evidence of a man who revered the classics yet navigated the present with ease. His every motion was measured, highlighting a career's worth of time spent in a courtroom.

His voice, when he spoke, carried a resonant depth, "Allen Crowder," he said, extending his hand, "it looks like we've found this little gentleman's family."

The warmth in Rafael's smile was instinctive, touched by the connection to Noah implied in Allen's words. He grasped the offered hand firmly. "Rafael Barba."

Recognition flickered in Allen's eyes. "Ah, the District Attorney's office. Interesting." The two men exchanged a look, appraising each other in a silent moment of assessment.

"Do you mind if I text this little man's mother to assure her he's safe?" Rafael inquired, a hint of urgency beneath his request. "I'm going to have some questions afterward."

"Of course."

Turning to address Noah, Rafael asked, "how about a picture for your momma?" Noah's squeal of joy vibrated through the room, almost deafening.

With his phone held out in front of them, Rafael captured the moment. He chuckled at the image—Noah's little beaming face as he was in the middle of saying 'cheese', one arm flung wide, the other holding on to Rafael's ear like it was a security blanket. It was the kind of photo that deserved to be seen every time he unlocked his phone.

Text sent, he addressed Allen, maintaining his composure. "His mother is nearby. She'll be here shortly, if that's alright." His statement was more hopeful than certain, buying time for Olivia and her team to arrive.

Allen's smile was easy and reassuring. "There's no rush. We're just eager to see him back with his family." He paused, adding, " you should know though that Ms. Price, my assistant, went to the police station on her way home from work to report him missing. We may also have visitors from the NYPD."

'Interesting' Rafael thought - but he kept his response to Allen measured. "Speaking of which, how did Noah end up here?"

__________________

The team huddled around the police van, manned by Fin and Slootmaekers, dissecting the events of the operation. Bell relayed that Angela Wheatley had no new information, while Detective Gamble had seen nothing suspicious on the security feeds—similar reports, or lack thereof, came in from the teams on the street.

"We need to circle back to the precinct and strategize our next move," Sergeant Bell suggested, her tone leaving no room for debate.

At that moment, Olivia's phone vibrated in her pocket. Her exclamation, "Oh, thank God!" startled everyone around her. Eyes locked on the photo of her son's beaming smile, she was overwhelmed by a tide of relief so profound it left her speechless. Below his image, Rafael had texted an address beckoned with urgent repetition: "Come now!!!"

With newfound urgency, Olivia issued her orders. "Everyone, on Bell's tail. I'm sending out the address as we move. Let's go—now."

Chapter Text

The door to Crowder & Associates slammed open as Olivia rushed in. Her eyes immediately honed in on the scene before her: her son resting comfortably in Rafael's lap on the luxurious dark leather couch, animatedly playing with Rafael's tie.

"Noah!" Olivia's voice broke with emotion as she darted forward, her feet carrying her faster than she thought possible.

"Momma!" Noah's cheerful shout filled the room.

Rafael began to rise, intending to pass Noah to his mother, but Olivia surprised him by enveloping them both in a fierce embrace.

"My baby," she sobbed, peppering Noah's head with kisses that spoke volumes of her relief and love.

Then, turning to Rafael with teary eyes, she cupped his face in her hands and pressed a grateful kiss to his forehead. "Thank you, Rafa—thank you," she murmured, her voice thick with gratitude.

"Shh," Rafael cooed, grabbing her left hand that was still pressed against his face and giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

Olivia, closely followed by Bell and Stabler, had not hesitated for a moment, propelled by the fierce maternal need to see her child. The rest of the team would join them shortly, once they completed their sweep of the building's perimeter for any potential threats.

Rationally she knew that she should keep any displays of affection with Rafael limited but in the emotional moment she didn't care. Even Elliot’s palpable disapproval, which she could sense without looking, did nothing to diminish her need to express her gratitude for her reunion. She gave Rafael another kiss on his forehead, this one more tender than the first.

As Olivia pulled away from him, Rafael caught Stabler’s gaze directing icy daggers his way. Rafael was no stranger to the type of barely contained fury that Elliot Stabler exuded; it was a temperament he had seen in countless men, including his own father. As the tension emanated from Elliot in almost tangible waves, Rafael knew the focus of Elliot's ire was about to shift. With Olivia, a buffer between them, it was Allen Crowder who would likely be the recipient of Stabler's anger.

Seeking to steer the situation away from confrontation and keep it productive, Rafael quickly bridged the conversation to what he learned from Allen. "Liv, allow me to introduce Mr. Crowder," he said with a nod toward Allen. "He was just filling me in on Marcus Shaw, his client, who found himself unexpectedly caring for Noah when he couldn't reach Noah's uncle."

Elliot's impatience threatened to spill over. "Oh, what an absolute crock…" he scoffed, but Olivia's stern look silenced him.

"Detective Stabler, please," Olivia interjected with a firmness that left no room for argument, then gestured for Rafael to continue. While eager to hear what he had learned, she found Rafael's calm demeanor comforting and yet, distracting her from the frustration simmering within. After she confirmed Noah's well-being, her focus sharpened to the reason they were in this law office, her eyes narrowing on Crowder.

Rafael continued, his voice even. "Marcus was left to look after Noah by his friend, Joseph Templeton. After unsuccessful attempts to contact Templeton and hearing of the arrest, Marcus sought Mr. Crowder's counsel." He glanced at Allen, seeking affirmation. "Do I have that correct?"

"That's right," Allen confirmed, a note of professionalism in his tone. "Additionally, my assistant is currently at the station filing a missing persons report."

Fin entered the office breaking the mounting tension with a brief update. "All clear outside," he reported. Turning to Noah, he provided a reassuring grin. "How's it going little guy?"

Noah's response to Fin was a bright, if slightly clumsy, wave. "Hi Uncle Fin!" he chimed, unwittingly easing the room's charged atmosphere.

Olivia rose to her feet, gently cradling Noah in her arms. "Thank you, Fin." She then turned to Crowder, her tone official but sharp, "Mr. Crowder, we need to have you come to the station for a formal statement."

Allen Crowder gave a nod, his face a mask of cooperation. "Of course, whatever you need."

She glanced towards Fin with a nod. "Fin, please escort Mr. Crowder to Carisi's car downstairs."

Elliot, reaching out towards her, offered a supportive gesture. "Let's head back to the station, Liv. You and Noah."

Olivia instinctively took a step back from Elliot's extended hand. She turned to Rafael with a questioning look. "Did you drive over?" Receiving Rafael's affirmative nod, she turned back to Elliot, her voice firm. "Thanks, Elliot, but I'll ride back with Barba."

__________________

Rafael found it challenging to keep his focus on the road. Every instinct urged him to glance at Olivia and Noah, his most precious cargo.

The excitement from the day left Noah exhausted and he fell asleep almost immediately, snuggled against his mother's chest. Olivia's hand reached out to find comfort in Rafael's grasp over the console. He relished the contact, weaving Olivia’s fingers with his own. Yet he sensed a heaviness in her silence that concerned him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he ventured. When she remained silent, he gently probed, "Liv, are you okay?"

She blinked back to the present. "How was Noah in Crowder's office?"

"He was fine," Rafael assured her. "What's on your mind?"

She hesitated, her words laced with concern. "I'm worried about the impact all this will have on him. Did he seem off?"

Rafael's response was immediate and confident. "No, he was perfectly at ease—playing with toy cars on the floor when I entered and his regular inquisitive self when I was talking to Crowder." He paused, reflecting. "You know, I think your theory was right. This seemed more like a message -- a play to spotlight Stabler's increasing pressure on Wheatley." He paused before adding, "God forbid, this could have been a lot worse, but I got the impression that they took good care of Noah." A soft smile touched his lips. "He even bragged about having pizza for dinner with his new buddy 'Mawkus'."

A mixed sigh escaped Olivia, one of relief shadowed by sorrow. She clung to Rafael's hand. "I can't begin to express how much your help means to me—saving my little boy."

Rafael's humbled response was accompanied by a blush. "Really, it was nothing, Liv. I didn't do anything -- just in the right place, at the right time."

At a red light, she locked eyes with him, her gaze intense and full of gratitude. "It was far from nothing, Rafael—it was everything to me."

He gave her a tender smile in return and squeezed her hand in acknowledgment.

__________________

Deputy Chief Dodds had been notified by Ayanna Bell on their way back from Crowder's office and he was waiting at the precinct when they arrived.

Rafael gently touched Olivia’s arm as they entered the bullpen, drawing her attention to Dodds. “Looks like he wants a word,” Rafael said, tilting his head toward the Deputy Chief. “I’ll call Lucy and tell her about Noah.”

“Oh Rafa, thank you so much,” she gushed with gratitude. “That completely slipped my mind.”

“You’re welcome, Liv,” came his soft reply.

“Catch up with us after,” Olivia said, a soft command in her tone. “Whatever Dodds has to say to me, he can say in front of you.”

Rafael nodded and discreetly moved away to make his call.

Olivia, carrying a sleeping Noah, approached Dodds.

“He’s had quite the day,” Dodds observed, glancing at the sleeping child in her arms. “Let’s talk in your office where you can sit down with him.”

Settled on the office couch with Noah resting peacefully, Olivia listened as Dodds relayed the information from Sergeant Bell. “Sounds like a load of bullshit,” Dodds remarked dryly, his disbelief clear.

Olivia's response was measured. “It aligns with what the secretary said, and Fin corroborated that Natalie Price reported a lost child.”

Dodds asked, “do we know what time she made the report?”

Olivia nodded. “Yeah. Around the same time we arrived at Angela Wheatley’s apartment.”

At that moment, Rafael peeked in, and Dodds invited him in with a gesture, saying, “we’re discussing Crowder’s bull crap story.”

Rafael nodded in agreement with Dodds' assessment, and sat down next to Olivia.

Dodds continued, “So, the assistant was at the station when you were at Wheatley’s apartment — that seems a little too convenient.

“Yes,” Olivia affirmed, the coincidence not lost on her. She reflected on Elliot’s earlier suspicion, “Stabler thought he saw Richard Wheatley as we left her place. Nothing concrete, but…”

Dodds finished her thought, “It’s within the realm of possibility.” He took a moment, then added, “And we shouldn’t discount Detective Gamble either. There’s a chance he was feeding information to Wheatley’s people about our plans to investigate Angela.”

"Where do we go from here?" Rafael wondered.

Dodds responded, "I have some people looking into Gamble's records, it might be a long shot."

"What about checking out near Angela's place?" Olivia mused. "In case he was using a burner, he could have dropped it. We could also check to see if concierge saw anything unusual. Gamble was stationed alone at the security desk."

"That's a good idea, I'll get someone on it." Taking a pause, he added, "Lieutenant, you should head home." His direction was in a firm yet measured tone.

Olivia opened her mouth to object, only to be gently overruled by Dodds' authority.

"You need rest, Olivia. The team has control here. It's crucial we remain impartial, and with your personal ties to this case, it's best to maintain distance." His smile was reassuring. "And you can't exactly go into the interview room with Noah in your arms, can you?"

Olivia felt a twinge of reluctance, her instinct to stay and contribute warring with the logic of Dodds' words.

Dodds, perceptive as ever, reassured her. "Look, we have five detectives, a sergeant, and a deputy chief on it. I'm personally handling Crowder's statement. Trust us, we're on top of it."

Convinced, Olivia began to gather her belongings.

Dodds then turned to Barba. "Counselor, would you mind driving Olivia and Noah home?"

Barba's expression revealed his surprise, but Dodds continued, "No arrests tonight, and McCoy has volunteered to be on standby if needed. Besides," he quipped with a knowing grin, "your focus hasn't strayed from Benson or Noah since you came into this office. You're not going to be much use to us here."

Rafael didn't respond but the sheepish look on his face was enough to acknowledge the truth in Dodds' observation.

"I'm going to send the others home shortly." Dodds said. "Be back here by 10am tomorrow and we'll regroup -- bring Noah and we'll take down what he remembers." He gave them a nod before heading into the bullpen.

Rafael turned to face Olivia. “Well you heard the man. Looks like I owe you two a ride home.”

————————-

Rafael's drive to Olivia's apartment was unhurried, the gentle rhythm meant to keep Noah asleep in the backseat and perhaps, on a subconscious level, to postpone the inevitable farewell. The day's events had taken a toll on him emotionally, and his growing feelings for Olivia only heightened his vulnerability. As they arrived, he smoothly shifted the car into park and announced with a hint of warmth, "home, sweet home."

Olivia met his gaze, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Rafa, for everything. You've been my rock today." Her smile was tender and full of genuine affection.

In the pause that followed, with neither ready to end the moment, Rafael's voice broke the silence, hesitant yet hopeful. "Would it be okay if I came up? I just..." His voice faltered.

Olivia's response was immediate, her words carrying the comfort he didn't know he needed. "Absolutely. I could use the company right now."

Rafael carried Noah up to the apartment, relieving Olivia whose arms had grown weary from carrying her son over the past hour.

Letting go of Noah, Olivia experienced a moment of panic, but it was softened by the deep trust she had in Rafael. The day's events had unveiled new depths of her feelings for Rafael, and while the intensity didn't surprise her, she didn't quite know how to focus on them with the other emotions swirling inside.

"Should I take him to his room," Rafael inquired softly.

"No, please just lay him down on my bed. I can’t stand the thought of not having him close tonight," Olivia replied, her voice laced with exhaustion.

"Certainly, Liv," Rafael said with understanding, making his way to her bedroom. After ensuring Noah was comfortably settled, he faced Olivia, his expression open and attentive. "What do you need from me, Liv? Anything."

A blush tinged Olivia's cheeks as she hesitated, then asked in a half-whisper, "Would you stay with us just for a little while?" She gestured to the space beside Noah and added, "I know we still need to talk about this," she acknowledged, indicating the unspoken words hanging between them, "but right now, I need to hold my son, and I'm afraid I might crumble without you here."

"Of course," Rafael agreed. "What's your preference?"

With a hint of color still present on her cheeks, Olivia hesitated slightly. "I'm going to slip into something more comfortable." As she began to remove his watch, she added thoughtfully, "I should return this to you."

"No, keep it," he gently insisted, a soft smile in his voice. "I remember my promise to find something more permanent."

Her grateful smile, accompanied by a quiet "thanks," warmed the room.

As Olivia stepped out to change, Rafael took the moment of privacy to shed the layers of the day. He slipped off his shoes, methodically loosened his tie, and removed his jacket and dress shirt, reducing himself to just an undershirt in the quiet comfort of her home. When he glanced up, Olivia's figure filled the doorway, a gentle blush still coloring her expression.

With a brief, unsure laugh, he asked, "I hope this is okay?"

Her response was shaky but paired with a reassuring nod. "I'm definitely okay with it."

He took note of the subtle heat in her eyes and felt the rosy bloom spread across his cheeks. Instinctively he cast his eyes downward to try and mask the fluttering in his chest. He heard Olivia let out a light laugh and looked up to meet her eyes, which were dancing with mirth.

“Did I fluster THE Rafael Barba?” she asked, her voice tinged with mischief.

Deciding to put him out of his misery, she settled into the bed and drew Noah close, her face hidden in the softness of his hair. Rafael edged into the space beside them, his movements cautious, unspoken questions lingering in his posture.

Olivia's hand found its way across Noah and intertwined her fingertips with Rafael's with delicate assurance.

"Is this alright?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

As Noah nestled closer to Rafael, a profound emotion washed over him. He met Olivia's gaze, his voice soft and warm, like the current feeling in his heart, "more than alright—this is all I've dreamt about."

Chapter Text

As Rafael's eyelids fluttered open, a soft morning light streamed through a sliver in the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow. It had been ages since he last woke up feeling so refreshed, greeted by a sky already aglow with daylight.

His senses awakened slowly, attuning him to the unfamiliar yet comforting surroundings. A cozy weight lay across his chest, and another nestled close against his side, cradled by the sheltering curve of his arm. As he turned his head, a sharp intake of breath caught in his throat, his heart swelling at the tender vision before him. There was Noah, molded to his side, enfolded in his embrace as if seeking solace in his slumber. And Olivia, her arm thrown over them both in a casual yet intimate gesture. The scene, so rich with quiet, soft affection, brought a warm rush of emotion to Rafael. Tears, born from the purity of the moment, welled in his eyes, holding the promise of a connection deeper than words could capture.

When he was young, Rafael had dreams of a family: a sprawling home filled with laughter, a loving partner, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet. The harsh reality of his father's temperament eroded that innocent vision with every unkind word and strike that was doled out against Rafael's young, fragile body. When he managed to escape away to college, Rafael turned his gaze to ambition, to the allure of success far from the shadows of his old neighborhood. He dedicated himself to his career as a shield against the vulnerabilities of his past.

Entering his thirties confident in his career, the thought of fatherhood was tainted by the specter of his own father's failings. The fear of becoming the man he grew to loathe was so profound that Rafael buried the very idea of a family beneath layers of resolve and metaphorical bricks. It wasn't until he met Olivia Benson, that thoughts of family started creeping back into his consciousness. Her smiles, effortless conversations, and affectionate touches began to weather the walls Rafael had meticulously crafted. Day by day, the fantasy of a family he had once dismissed started to take root again, but this time with Olivia and Noah's images ingrained in every imagined moment, bringing a startling awareness to what his heart truly desired. It also brought forth his one of his greatest fear: failing the two people he held most dear to his heart and becoming his father. But snuggled against the two Bensons, Rafael came to a profound realization that his fears were unfounded, that failure was not an option where Olivia and Noah were concerned, and that he would do everything within his power to protect and cherish them.

He was drawn out of his own inner turmoil by the sensation of a warm arm retreating from where it lay across his chest, seeking out its owner in the quiet light of dawn.

"I slept better than I thought I would," Olivia's voice, soft and laced with the remnants of sleep, floated to him. Turning to her, Rafael was greeted by a smile, warm and intimate, a silent acknowledgement of shared comfort.

Rafael began to murmur an apology, "I sorry for falling asleep here, that wasn't…"

Olivia's words overtook his, a gentle interruption. "Don’t apologize, Rafa," she insisted, her eyes holding a tenderness that halted his self-reproach. "We were both spent." A fleeting bashfulness graced her features, then with a vulnerable honesty, she confided, "I don’t think I would have felt safe enough to sleep through the night without you here."

"Mi amor," the words escaped Rafael’s lips, a whisper laden with unspoken affections. Her words overwhelmed his emotions, a palpable tide of pride, warmth and love swirled in his chest. His eyes widened with the realization of what he had said out loud.

Olivia reached over her son, her hand gentle as it brushed away a stray lock from Rafael's forehead, her touch a whisper against his skin. "Cariño," she murmured, her gaze locking with Rafael's eyes, which had widened even further at her term of endearment. "We need to meet with Dodds, regroup on the case. But afterward, will you come back home with me?" Her eyes, alight with a hopeful glint, searched his. "Remember what we talked about yesterday? This, us," she emphasized softly, her hand subtly gesturing between the two of them. "I want to continue that discussion."

Rafael's heart fluttered at the mention of 'home,' he could almost see the day's end, stepping through a doorway to find Olivia and Noah waiting, their presence turning any space into a haven. "Yes, Liv," he replied, his voice steady with resolve, his smile an unspoken promise. "I'm looking forward to it."

In the quiet that followed, Noah shifted closer, seeking the comfort of Rafael's side. Rafael cast a fond glance downward, his heart expanding. "What's the plan for Noah today? Is he heading to preschool later or do you want him at the precinct all day?" he probed, knowing that Olivia would be reluctant to let him out of her sight.

Her answer was swift, laced with conflict. "Yes," she affirmed, the word heavy with unspoken trepidation. "I just... I know I should let him Lucy pick him up for school, but..."

Rafael's instinctive reaction was to sigh, but he quickly swallowed it. "Liv, forget should. Tell me what you need," he urged, his tone soft yet firm.

Olivia exhaled a burdened sigh, a soft admission escaping her lips. "I need him with me, Rafa. The thought of being apart... it's too much right now."

Understanding her fears, Rafael reached up, his hand finding hers—a reassuring anchor. "Then it's settled. He stays with us," he declared, the gentle pressure of his hand reinforcing his words. "You do what's best for you. We’ll handle the rest, everyone will understand."

Noah's small hand, adventurous and seeking, found its way to Rafael's chin, his innocent touch drawing a line of warmth across his skin. "Uncle Rafa?" The question, wrapped in the soft timbre of childhood, held a note of sleepy curiosity. "You sleepover?"

Rafael's response was a soft tickle, a playful gesture that elicited a cascade of giggles from Noah. "Yes, I did. Is that all right with you?" he asked, his voice mixing mirth with affection.

Giggles bubbled up as Noah answered, his laughter a melody in the room. "Yes! We love Uncle Rafa."

For the third time that morning, Rafael felt his heart flutter in his chest. "I love you too, Noah," he responded, trying to keep the wobble out of his voice. He caught Olivia's gaze, her eyes glistening, a testament to the tender moment. Clearing his throat, he mustered a more cheerful tone. "How about we kickstart the day with a hearty breakfast? Pancakes sound good, Noah?"

"PANCAKES!!" Noah’s exuberant shout echoed, brimming with delight.

A laugh escaped Rafael, as heartfelt as it was infectious. "I'll make you both breakfast. Go home and change, then I'll meet you both at your momma's work. How does that sound?"

Noah’s energy was contagious as he sprang to his feet, seizing Rafael’s hand and pulling him towards the promise of breakfast. "Let’s go, Uncle Rafa—pancakes!"

_______________________

After indulging in a breakfast filled with laughter and syrupy treats, Rafael knew it was time to depart. Noah was now engrossed in a fortress of blocks on the living room floor, his imagination in full swing. Olivia, with a silent offer of intimacy, accompanied Rafael to the threshold of their temporary sanctuary.

At the doorway, Rafael paused, his hand cradling Olivia's face with a tender touch. "I’ll see you at the precinct," he assured her, his voice a soft murmur. "Remember, I’m just a call away if you need anything." He studied her for a moment, noting the strength she wore like armor, though her eyes betrayed a glimmer of vulnerability.

Olivia closed the distance between them, her kiss a whisper of gratitude on his lips. "Thank you, Rafael. Truly," she murmured, her forehead resting against his in a moment of silent acknowledgment. "Having you here with me through all of this meant everything to me. I wouldn't have made it without you.

"Yes you would have -- you're the strongest person I know." With a gentle inclination, Rafael pressed his lips to her forehead, a silent promise conveyed in the gesture. "I’ve left my watch on your nightstand," he said, thumb tracing the delicate line of her wrist. His half-smile was tender, a shared joke between them. "I will work on getting you something more permanent." With a final, lingering look, he added, "See you at work."

Chapter Text

Olivia was the last to arrive. She should have known that Dodds would give her more time in the morning knowing how emotionally drained she was yesterday. She had Noah cradled snug against her right hip, with a bag full of his supplies slung over her right shoulder. She had packed enough to keep the toddler occupied and fed for the whole day.

As she stepped into the precinct, a noticeable change from yesterday's oppressive atmosphere greeted her; the space felt open, almost inviting. It wasn't just the sunlight streaming through the windows, casting a golden warmth that seemed to push the shadows into the corners, it was something more. The air was alive with the rich, deep scent of freshly brewed coffee, a stark contrast to the usual sterile tang of the precinct. Olivia inhaled deeply, the robust aroma hinting at a special blend – the good roast that was rarely savored. It had Carisi's thoughtful touch written all over it, likely a gesture meant for Barba or perhaps a subtle play to win favor with Dodds. Regardless, Olivia felt a wave of appreciation wash over her. Today, she would savor the rare treat of a truly excellent cup of coffee.

Absorbing the atmosphere of the bullpen, Olivia observed her team clustered around Fin's desk, their heads bowed pouring through scattered papers that sprawled across the desk's worn surface. The team from the Organized Crime unit — Bell, Stabler, Gamble, and Slootsmaekers — had taken the space at the conference table. They huddled together, speaking in hushed tones and murmurs. Their body language spoke volumes; they seemed like fish out of water, slightly adrift in the unfamiliar territory, missing the comfort of their home turf.

Her gaze drifted and settled on Rafael, who had made Rollins' desk his temporary throne. He lounged with an air of casual confidence, his left foot propped up on her chair as a declaration of his easy familiarity with the space. He was leisurely sipping his coffee, the steam curling like a wisp of morning fog, while his thumb flicked through the cascade of emails on his phone. A smile, unbidden and warm, bloomed across Olivia's face as she watched him; he was the picture of relaxed concentration, but still close to respond if the SVU team needed him.

It had been difficult to separate from Rafael earlier that morning when he had to go home to get ready for work. Noah had shed a few tears and had only been placated when the lawyer promised him that they would see each other in only a few hours. Olivia herself had been no better. The last 24 hours she had come to rely on Rafael in a way that she hadn't found herself doing in a long time, and when he walked out her door, it felt like a part of her went with him. The feeling scared her a little but mostly she was anxious to reunite with him this morning.

Almost as though a silent signal passed between them, Rafael eyes lifted from his phone, finding Olivia's in a moment that seemed to suspend time. His smile, a knowing and shared secret, reflected the joy in hers, and for a heartbeat or two, the world contracted until nothing existed but the silent conversation held in the sanctuary of their gaze.

Their moment was interrupted by a loud squeal from the child attached to Olivia's hip. "Uncle Rafa!!" Noah reached out to the lawyer, making grabby hands at him signaling he wanted a hug.

Rafael stood up and scooped the toddler from Olivia's arms, snuggling him into his chest. "Hola mi chiquito. Were you good for your momma the rest of the morning?”

Olivia tensed for a second, hoping that Rafael's slip didn't draw too much attention. But she caught the heads of her three highly trained detectives turn towards her. Fin’s eyebrow raised in a silent question, a badly hidden smirk on his lips. She sensed—without needing to verify—the weight of Elliot's stare, laden with unspoken questions, drilling into her spine. A pin drop could be heard in the station.

At Noah's enthusiastic nod, Rafael continued. "Didn't I promise you it would only be a few hours before we saw each other again." Rafael tickled Noah's stomach earning him a round of giggles.

Elliot's rough voice broke in with a surprised, "What the hell?"

Rafael's gaze snapped up and met Olivia's, wincing when he realized what he had said.

The tense silence of the bullpen shattered as Dodds strode out of Olivia's office, his commanding voice echoing off the walls.

"All present and accounted for, I see," he announced, a hint of levity in his tone as his gaze landed on Noah, securely cradled in Rafael's arms. "Counselor, perhaps your little friend here would enjoy recounting his adventures from yesterday with Detective Rollins?"

Amanda rose to her feet and gently disentangled Noah from Rafael's hold. "Let's take a walk down memory lane, shall we?" she suggested warmly, reaching for the colorful backpack draped over Olivia's shoulder. "Noah, your mom has packed some surprises for us to explore."

With Noah secure in her arms, Detective Rollins headed towards the interview room that was set up for children. As she walked past Olivia, Amanda muttered under her breath, "And maybe later, you can spill the beans on what your mom and Uncle Rafa were up to this morning."

Noah's ears seemed to prick up at the mention of 'Uncle Rafa.' He swiveled his head, eyes wide with curiosity, and pointed at Rafael. "Uncle Rafa?" he queried, his voice laced with hopeful innocence, silently pleading for his uncle to join their little entourage.

With a reassuring pat on Noah's back, Amanda responded. "How about a little adventure with just us for now? Uncle Rafa will join in on the fun a bit later, I promise," she said, her voice a blend of tenderness and excitement.

Dodds addressed everyone else in the bullpen. "Okay people, let's go over what we know."

It had been just over an hour and the team wasn't any further along in making a solid case connecting anyone to the kidnapping other than Joseph Templeton. The interviews with Allen Crowder and his staff had yielded nothing but the same, rehearsed lines. Each one echoed the narrative that Noah had been escorted to Crowder’s office by Marcus Shaw, who was asked by Templeton to watch him. Amanda, in her gentle probing, was able to corroborate their statements with Noah providing a vague description of Templeton, Shaw and finally being in Crowder's office.

As the hands of the clock crept towards noon, a crescendo of frustration filled the precinct, with Stabler's clenched jaw and tight fists embodying the team's rising tension.

"This is bullshit!" The words ripped from Elliot's throat, a raw expression of the day’s mounting pressures. "We all know that Wheatley is behind this."

Fin leaned in, skepticism written across his face. "Do we, though?" he questioned, prompting a collective, weighted silence.

Elliot's response came hot and fast, his voice conveying nothing but conviction. "Templeton, Crowder, Shaw—they're all Wheatley's pawns, playing his game."

Rafael, ever the voice of caution, interjected. "Circumstantial," he reminded the room. "Without concrete evidence, it's a house of cards in any courtroom."

Elliot's scorn was almost palpable. "Of course the lawyer only cares about what plays out in court."

Rafael’s retort was swift, laced with the sharp wit of a seasoned prosecutor. "Precisely, because the last thing I want is to have to present the case of 'Detective Stabler's gut feeling' to a jury." His words, sharp as a scalpel, cut through the tension.

Elliot countered by standing taller, his shoulders squared in a display of defiance. Although it had been a decade since Olivia had witnessed this particular posture, she recognized the familiar signs of Elliot's brewing storm that would quickly turn to violence if he wasn't placated.

Her instincts were spot on; Elliot took a deliberate step towards Rafael, his body language reading like a challenge. Before the confrontation could escalate, Olivia cut in firmly, "We need to focus on connecting the dots to Wheatley. That’s the priority."

"So how did Poindexter over there even know to go to Crowder's office if Wheatley isn't involved?" Elliot argued, a triumphant edge to his voice as if he had cornered the truth.

Rafael couldn't believe how childish Detective Stabler could be and in spite of his better judgment, he found himself responding to the provocation. "It's still circumstantial. No one is saying that Wheatley isn't involved. What we're saying Detective, is that maybe it would help if you went and…I don't know…detected some tangible evidence to tie him to this."

"Hey," came Carisi's slightly wounded response. "We're trying here."

Rafael’s demeanor softened at Carisi’s earnest interjection. "I know, and Templeton’s role as the fall guy doesn't sit right with me either," he conceded. "I'm really not looking forward to having to call Buchanan to rescind our deal, if Templeton needs to be the one we prosecute for this."

Dodds tired of listening to the back and forth interjected with a practical suggestion. Glancing at the wall clock as it signaled the arrival of noon, he announced, "Let's put a pin in this for now. We'll reconvene after lunch, say, in an hour? Sometimes a short break can lend a new perspective."

As the team members began to collect their belongings, Dodds’ voice cut through the shuffle, signaling Olivia with a subtle, yet deliberate gesture.

"Olivia, a moment in your office, if you will," he said, his tone suggesting it wasn't just a casual request. He gave a small, meaningful nod toward Rafael, adding with a hint of formality, "and maybe bring your lawyer."

Chapter Text

As the door clicked shut, Deputy Chief Dodds leveled a stern gaze at the duo before him.

"Disclose, don't disclose, I don't care. But whatever this is," he said, gesturing between Olivia and Rafael, "can you try and be more discreet for the time being?"

Rafael, momentarily taken aback by Dodds' blunt directness, stumbled over his words. "Sir, I—"

Before he could gather his thoughts, Olivia interjected, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her unease. "There is currently nothing to disclose but when this is over and Rafael and I have a chance to talk through what exactly this is, you and McCoy will be the first to know."

Acknowledging with a nod, Dodds' expression softened marginally. "Thank you. And for the record, whenever you come and talk to me about the worst kept secret in the NYPD, you'll have my full support." His eyes then fixed on Rafael, pointedly. "but Counselor, can you try to rein in your contempt for Detective Stabler. The animosity, jealousy, or whatever it is that's going on between you two is getting tiresome."

Colour crept into Rafael's cheeks again. He exhaled deeply, his next words laced with a blend of frustration and vulnerability. "Stabler's actions—whether intended or not—put Olivia and Noah in danger. That's unforgivable and I'm…I'm furious."

A look of understanding shone in Dodds eyes. "I understand, believe me, I do. But everyone in that room can feel the tension rolling of the two of you as you circle around Lieutenant Benson. Let's keep focus on the investigation."

Rafael was transported back to middle school, feeling like a young boy, sitting in the principal's office being scolded for talking too much in class. He knew that he was angry at Detective Stabler and Gamble but didn't realize that it was permeating throughout his actions. "You're right," he acknowledged. "I'll try to keep my anger under better control and not rise to his challenges."

Dodds clapped his hands together and perched on the edge of Olivia's desk. "Now that's out of the way, I want to provide you with an update on what we've uncovered on the leak."

Olivia and Rafael took up space on the couch, conscious about not sitting too close to each other after the embarrassing lecture they just received.

Dodds continued, "so, on to the bad news." He picked up a file from Olivia's desk. "Our people found absolutely nothing on Detective Gamble that connects him to the leak." Opening the beige folder, he took out a piece of paper and handed it over to Olivia. "We did, however, find an incoming text sent to Wheatley from an unverified number -- likely a burner phone."

Rafael looked over Olivia's shoulder at the document. "How did you get these records?"

Dodds eyebrow raised in response. "I told you McCoy was on standby." Continuing, "he's working on getting a warrant so we can read the message but in the meantime, we have nothing on Gamble other than speculation that he sent it."

"Or maybe Elliot's behind it," Rafael muttered under his breath, only to be met by two stern sets of admonishing glares and he held his hands up in surrender.

Olivia weighed in, "so where does that leave us with the leak and how do Elliot's photos fit in?"

"It looks like Gamble might still have the phone on him," Dodds went on. "McCoy's also chasing down a warrant to get the records off that phone, and to watch for any new calls or texts." Dodds paused, choosing his words. "And there's a chance that the photos linked to Stabler, while part of this mess, are something entirely separate. But only Detective Stabler knows why he took them."

Rafael spoke up again, this time with caution. "Then let's ask him."

At this, Olivia spun around towards him, her gaze sharp as she locked eyes with Rafael. "Excuse me?" she snapped, disbelief etched on her face.

"Throw Stabler under the bus —put the pressure on him and see how he reacts," Rafael suggested with a slight edge to his tone.

Despite her anger, Olivia's conviction held firm; Elliot was impulsive but in her heart, she couldn’t believe that he would ever intentionally put her in danger. "We can't just accuse him without solid proof. The evidence we have does not implicate him. And despite your anger..."

Rafael cut her off, his voice firm yet earnest. "Listen, it's one of two ways—he's mixed up in this, or he's not. We're in the dark about his involvement. But someone's working hard to direct the blame his way," he argued, holding Olivia's gaze, trying to convey his point. "At this point, the strongest evidence we have points to it being him. If we act on it, it might just throw them off, make them overconfident and slip up."

Olivia's expression softened, but her skepticism remained. Rafael pressed on, "Liv, you've got a past with him, and I understand that trusting him is hardwired into you. I see it differently—I don't trust him."

Their eyes locked, an entire conversation passing in the silence that stretched between them. Olivia's expression was edged with something indefinable that Rafael was trying to decipher. It was Dodds who finally broke it, his tone carrying the weight of his authority. "From a strategic standpoint, confronting Stabler is our best option right now."

With a heavy sigh, Olivia slumped back into the couch. "So, what now? Do I bring Stabler in for questioning?"

Dodds, steady and calm, replied with a gentle but firm shake of his head. "No, you're not going to do that." He braced for her reaction, knowing full well the storm that was about to come. "This one's on me. I'll be leading the interrogation."

Olivia sprang to her feet, a mix of determination and conflict in her eyes. "That's not acceptable. I need answers. I have to be the one to confront him; I need to look him in the eyes when I ask him about those photos—why he has pictures of me and my son."

Dodds reached out, trying to bridge the gap between protocol and empathy. "I understand how much this means to you, and you'll hear every word from the other side of that glass," he assured her, his voice laced with as much kindness as the situation allowed. "But you can't be in the interrogation room, Olivia. It's non-negotiable." His eyes then shifted to Rafael, adopting a more authoritative tone. "I think it goes without saying that you will not be in that room, Counselor. For the integrity of the case, you both need to sit this one out. McCoy will join me as we go through this."

Rafael gave a solemn nod, acknowledging the weight of the decision.

Dodds rose, the determination in his stance casting a long shadow across the room. "Okay," he declared with purpose, "I'll make the necessary calls. We'll confront Elliot and unravel all these questions as soon as possible." Without another word, he slipped out into the bustle of the hallway.

Left in the quiet aftermath, Rafael turned to Olivia, seeking out her hand in an attempt to forge a connection. "Liv," he murmured, the concern etched in his voice, "I know you don't like this but it's the best option."

Her response was terse, the words clipped. "I'm aware."

"Talk to me, Liv. Tell me what you're feeling," Rafael urged gently, his tone a soft.

Olivia's sigh was a surrender, her body falling against his side like a weary puzzle piece finding its fit. "Frustrated," she whispered, her breath warm against the fabric of his shirt, "tired...helpless."

In the silence of her office, Rafael did his best to wrap a protective shroud around her. He pondered on the chaos that had rolled into their lives.
Noah's disappearance, Elliot's abrupt return, the investigation ripped from her grasp. She was resilience personified, yet even the strongest person needed to bend. He pulled her into his gentle embrace, his fingertips tracing comforting patterns along her arm.

In the hush that followed, each heartbeat was a shared rhythm until Rafael's voice sliced through the quiet. "I think I need to clarify something. My doubts about Stabler don't reflect on you—your judgment is something I know I can rely on." A pause lingered between them, heavy with unspoken trust. "Your word is my compass; if you trust Elliot, then so do I, because I trust you."

When Olivia lifted her gaze, her eyes were wells of vulnerability, and Rafael knew he'd touched the core of her unrest.

"You are amazing, you know that," she acknowledged, a smile dawning in her voice.

Rafael's lips curved into a smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm well aware of my many positive attributes but I'll never tire of you vocalizing them. In fact, I encourage you telling anyone and everyone you can—maybe start with Fin, Carisi and Rollins."

He tenderly brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'd follow you to the end of the world if you asked." Wanting to lighten the mood he added, "but the next time Dodds calls us both into your office, you're on your own." He shuddered for dramatic effect, "so fucking embarrassing."

Olivia's laughter rang out, clear and bright, but he didn't miss the tear that ran down her cheek. As Rafael caught it with a gentle thumb, resolve knit between them. "Let's go find that son of yours," he whispered, "I think you could do with a cuddle before the shit hits the fan."

Chapter Text

Elliot's entrance to the interrogation room was teetering on the edge of hostile, it was a barely contained storm of simmering rage that threatened to spill into the precinct. The moment Dodds and McCoy started corralling him inside, Elliot's defenses went up. Olivia, standing with Sergeant Bell and Rafael on the other side of the glass, silently appreciated the foresight of having the teams disperse post-lunch. Bell was read into the situation as it involved a member of her team and her discomfort with the situation was obvious.

For the first 10 minutes, Elliot refused to sit down, pacing relentlessly. His gaze roved over the room’s confines like a wild animal searching for any crack in its cage.

Dodds and McCoy, both seasoned professionals, sat unwavering and refused to respond to his posturing or engage until he calmed down. Eventually, Elliot's energy waned, and he sank into the chair, although his tension could still be felt in the room.

Dodds was the first to break the silence. "Detective Stabler, let's get to the point of this meeting," he said, pulling papers from his file and methodically laying two photos on the table before Elliot. The photos seemed to strike a nerve, Elliot's eyes snapping to them, widening with shock.

"Care to shed light on these photos? They’ve surfaced on our server, tagged as part of an information leak," Dodds inquired. His tone even, but probing.

"What the fuck!" Elliot's response was a visceral one, his fist pounding the table, the sound of the clanking metal reverberating around the room as he exploded. "Are you actually sitting there accusing me of leaking information, and even worse, purposefully putting Olivia and her son in danger," he seethed. "I don't care who you are. How dare you."

Dodds remained collected, "it's not an accusation, it's a question about the origin of these photos—taken with NYPD equipment, found on the NYPD server and are now part of a leak. Let's start there."

Elliot stood up again, pacing around the room, seemingly trying to dispel his anger. "Absolutely not. I am not discussing my personal affairs with you." He walked around the room, clenching and unclenching his fists before he abruptly stopped and smashed a fist into the bricked wall. Resting his forehead against the cool surface, he let out a deep breath to collect himself before returning to his seat.

Not accepting that response, or letting Stabler's outburst stop him from getting answers, Dodds pushed. "It's not your personal business when you use NYPD resources. Now I'm asking you again, why did you take these photos."

Elliot, rattled, cast a desperate look towards the glass, seeking Olivia. "I need to talk to her," he muttered, his usual stoic demeanour giving way to panic.

"No, Detective. You will provide your explanation to me," Dodds insisted firmly.

Ignoring Dodds, Elliot's stare pierced through the glass, as if willing Olivia to feel his urgency. Standing beside her, Rafael subtly intertwined his fingers with Olivia's, a silent promise of his support and willingness to stand by her through anything. The tension in her body visibly ebbed the second their hands touched.

McCoy broke in, "Detective Stabler, the severity of this situation can’t be overstated," he said, capturing Elliot's gaze with a steely one of his own that he had honed through years of courtroom experience. "These photos, originating from you, are now evidence in a leak—photos of individuals targeted in an abduction. You're a detective, what does the evidence point towards?"

Defeated, Elliot's posture crumbled, "it says that I'm the mole, working as Wheatley's informant," the weight of the accusation bearing down on him.

Olivia's gasp was involuntary, sharp in the charged silence. Rafael's gave her hand a squeeze before releasing and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. If Sergeant Bell noticed, she didn't say anything.

Dodds pressed, undeterred, "So once more, Detective Stabler, the question stands. Why did you take these photos?"

Chapter Text

Rafael's voice cut through the close, stagnant air of the observation room, his words weighted with a concern that mirrored the furrow in his brow. "Olivia," he urged softly, "how are you holding up?"

She gave a small nod, her affirmation quick but her eyes revealing the unease within. "It's unsettling," she confessed, her voice a mere whisper, "to hear him say what the evidence suggests. Even if he isn't involved, just hearing him say it."

The air in the observation room was thick with tension and the heavy breathing of the team. Thirty minutes had passed, and each minute felt like an hour as Elliot stood firm in his resolve to evade answering the men's questions. They finally decided a break was needed so Dodds and McCoy left to join the others.

"What's our angle?" McCoy asked, his voice slicing through the thick air. "Wait him out? See if he calls a lawyer?"

Dodds, hands on his hips, let out a heavy sigh that was laced with burden. "I'm starting to see his silence as an admission of guilt," he admitted, glancing around to gauge reactions, "but I know that's not an option... frustrating as it is."

As the others ran through the list of options, Olivia's voice emerged steady and clear. "I should go in," she stated, locking eyes with Dodds. As she spoke, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, in an attempt to keep her emotions neutral. "He's clearly not going to speak unless it's with me."

Dodds' response was swift, his head shaking with a finality that left no room for argument. "That's out of the question, Olivia. I need everything above board, and you're too close to this."

His words hung in the air until Ayanna offered a tentative alternative. "Could it be worth trying with me?"

Before Dodds could respond, Olivia was already countering, her voice firm and authoritative. "You know how stubborn he can be. Plus he'll likely see you and Dodds as the same threat to him."

Sergeant Bell nodded in response, knowing that Olivia was right.

Dodds pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture of deep-seated frustration. He turned to McCoy, seeking another perspective. "Your thoughts?"

McCoy, scratching his chin thoughtfully, weighed in. "His stubborn streak is legendary. We might be at a stalemate."

Olivia stepped closer, her resolve hardening. "The camera is already rolling. If you think I'm stepping out of line, pull me out," she promised, her gaze unwavering as she held Dodds' eyes, a silent plea hanging between them.

The tension in Dodds' posture eased, just perceptibly, as he gave a resigned nod. The lines of exhaustion etched on his face deepened. "Alright," he conceded, "but on my call, we end it."

Olivia's nod in return was solemn, her jaw set in determination. "One more condition—Rafael goes in there with me," she declared. She felt the lawyer's gaze whip in her direction and could imagine the look of shock she knew was etched on his features. She had to stop herself from looking at Rafael, needing to keep her eyes locked with Dodds.

Dodds' arms flew up, his frustration boiling over. "Absolutely not. That is out of the question, Lieutenant."

But Olivia stood unyielding, her eyes flickering to Elliot, who sat with his back straight, radiating confidence. But she could still read him after all these years and observed the subtle fear in his stiff posture, the way his hands gripped the edge of the table. "Rafael is my partner now, and Elliot needs to see that unity. I need to see that unity." Quieter, she added, "I don't know if I can do this without him."

Rafael moved closer, his movement almost imperceptible but his presence a solid reassurance. He placed a supportive hand discreetly on Olivia's back, offering her his strength.

Dodds finally relented with a curt nod, his voice tinged with a command. "Fine," he huffed out in frustration. Pointing at Rafael, "you keep your emotions in check. I mean it. If at all possible, you keep your mouth shut. Understood?"

Rafael, who simply nodded, had an expression of calm resolve.

McCoy, who had observed the exchange, chimed in, offering a subtle endorsement. "Rafael knows when he needs to exercise tact," he assured. "He won't step out of line."

____________

Olivia entered the interrogation room. Upon seeing her, the icy scowl etched into Elliot's features had begun to dissolve, giving way to a tentative smile. But the thaw halted abruptly as his piercing blue eyes caught sight of the man lurking behind Olivia.

With a grating drag of metal on tile, Elliot shoved his chair back, a jarring sound that matched Olivia's rising irritation.

"No way. I'm not doing this with him in the room," he spat out, each word piercing the stillness of the space.

As they settled, the air between them was charged with unsaid words, Olivia redirected the conversation with authority. "That's too bad. He stays."

Elliot’s steely gaze snapped to Rafael. His brows were knitted tightly, a silent challenge woven in his scrutiny. Rafael, no stranger to facing down hardened criminals, was uncompromising as he met the glare. Olivia's frustration simmered, watching the pointless posturing.

"Detective Stabler," she interjected, her voice piercing through the tension. "Rafael is staying. We're wasting time." She drew a calming breath, the air heavy with the scent of stale coffee and Elliot's stubbornness. "Why did you take these pictures?" She fanned the photos across the table.

Elliot's gaze broke first, a crack in his armor that allowed Olivia a fleeting glimpse of his unease. "I can't tell you, Liv, not with him here," he muttered, barely veiling his disdain with a jerk of his head toward Rafael.

Olivia's sigh was a hiss of exasperation. "And as I told you, Detective Stabler, he's staying. Also it's Lieutenant Benson." She added that last part with authority, attempting to stay firm to her desire to keep him at arm's length.

A flicker of pain shadowed Elliot’s face, before he quickly hid it behind feigned disinterest.

His energy, searching for an outlet, found a target in Rafael. "I bet you're loving this," Elliot sneered.

Rafael's response was measured, but Olivia could hear the strain in the lawyer's voice in his attempt to avoid confrontation. "I'm just here to help Liv and provide her legal advice if needed."

Elliot's voice, dripping with contempt, cut through her resolve. "This clown gets to call you Liv?"

Olivia clenched her jaw and silently counted to ten before addressing his comment. "Detective Stabler, can we please just focus on the question surrounding these photos."

Elliot, a storm of emotion, surged to his feet, his chair scraping back against the worn concrete. He strode to the room's end, each step a drumbeat of his irritation. "It's El, remember? My name is El, Elliot." The plea etching his voice, he spun back to face her, the desperation clear. "For the love of god, Liv, will you please call me Elliot."

Elliot's gaze caught hers. "Please, Liv."

A pause, and Olivia felt her breath catch. Rafael's eyes met hers, offering a pillar of support amidst the chaos. He could see past her mask, noting the slight tremor of her upper lip—a subtle tell that she was trying to keep her emotions in check. "Liv," he exhaled, his voice wrapped in concern.

She faced him, her expression a master class in neutrality, yet her eyes betrayed her true feelings. Rafael whispered again, a gentle nudge, "Liv?"

Time stretched, unspoken words passing between them. Olivia’s slight nod was a silent agreement, a gesture that spoke more than words.

Rafael turned back to Elliot, observing the gears turning behind the detective's furrowed brow. "Detective Stabler, let's not focus on names right now. We need to understand why these photographs exist," Rafael interjected, hoping to shepherd the conversation down a productive path. "Maybe later, you two can unpack the past," he added, although the words left a horrible taste in his mouth. If he had his way, Detective Stabler would never be allowed in the same room as Olivia ever again.

Elliot's reaction was instantaneous, his eyebrows arching in revelation, as the truth became clear to him. "You're in love with her," he announced, the words hanging heavy in the air, a declaration that seemed to suck all of the oxygen out of the room.

Rafael sputtered over his words. "That's not…I'm…we're not here to talk about my feelings…that is to say…"

It was Olivia's turn to jump in and steer the conversation back on course. "Elliot," she started, hoping that using his name would make the atmosphere friendlier. "Rafa's feelings aren't what we're here to discuss. Can you please just explain why you took these photos."

Elliot's gaze sharpened, his eyes casting suspicion as he registered the familiarity in Olivia's tone and picking up on the nickname. "Why do you even want him here? I thought you didn't like lawyers."

Olivia responded, "No, Elliot. You don't like lawyers. I don't like certain people, who just happened to be lawyers." She selected her next words carefully. "Rafa is," she paused, knowing what her next word would do. "He's my partner."

The room fell silent. Elliot held it together, projecting a calm demeanor, but his face showed a different story—it looked like he'd taken a punch to the gut. Olivia knew she had to pick her words carefully now. Beside her, Rafael was quiet, giving nothing away. They waited for Elliot to make the next move.

The silence dragged on, making seconds feel like hours.

Then Elliot found his voice. "Liv, he can't…this jerk can't be your partner," he said, his eyes searching hers for some sign he was wrong.

Olivia resolve cracked and she snapped back. "He's not a jerk." She took a deep breath, her tone less sharp. "He IS my partner."

Elliot squinted at her, as if trying to see something hidden in her face. Then his expression changed to one of shock. "You're in love with him!"

Both men looked at her, expecting her to back down, deny Elliot's claim. But Olivia responded with a simple, "I am." Her tone clear and sure, leaving no room for debate.

Rafael's surprise was cut short by Dodds knocking loudly on the glass. It startled all of them, but Olivia still heard Rafael's sharp intake of breath.

Chapter Text

To say Dodds was pissed was an understatement. Getting back into the interrogation room wasn't an easy feat. Dodds had reservations, especially about Rafael. But he knew that Olivia was likely the only person who could get Elliot to lower his guard. Reluctantly acknowledging this, Dodds agreed to Olivia's terms. She was persuasive enough to have Rafael by her side, promising he'd be a quiet presence, tucked away from the center of action. With a resigned nod, Dodds gave the green light.

Back in the room's stark atmosphere, Olivia took the steel chair opposite Elliot, with the tabletop between them serving as a cold divide. She knew that Elliot wanted to protest Rafael's presence but was thankful that he seemed to take the hint that arguing was a lost cause.

Rafael, to his credit, silently anchored himself to the furthest corner keeping true to his promise. Elliot, stewing with silent fury, directed a searing glare toward the lawyer, his eyes like flint sparking against steel, as if willing the air to ignite between them. Olivia's gaze remained focused on Elliot, her eyes sharp, dissecting each unspoken thought that flickered across the detective's taut features.

The silence filled the room with its oppressive weight until Olivia's voice sliced through the air. "So. Can we start again and talk about the photos?"

"So," Elliot parroted back, the words dripping with disdain, his face set in an expression of unmistakable disapproval. "You let him put his manicured hands all over you?"

Rafael's sharp response echoed around the small space. "You asshole!" Propelled by indignation, he surged forward. "Don't you ever speak to her like that."

"Rafa," came Olivia's clipped response. Her voice held a warning, urging the lawyer to keep away. Heeding her unspoken command, Rafael's hands unfurled, offering a silent truce as he retreated to his spot leaning against the wall.

Elliot's words curled in the air, contempt tinging his tone, "you deserve better than him, Liv."

Olivia snapped back, "you don't even know him!"

"I know you," he responded, "and you deserve better than some stuffed shirt who thinks he's better than everyone. Some lawyer." He spit out the last word like it was poison in his mouth.

Her rebuke was swift, "No, you don't." It halted the words that were on his tongue, confusion knitting his brow as his searching eyes tried to peel back the meaning of her words.

She continued. "Elliot, you don't know me. I'm not the same Olivia you knew 10 years ago. That Olivia died the moment you walked out the door."

She saw a mask of hurt wash over his face and while there was a small part of her that felt bad at causing him pain, it was something that needed to be said.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you Elliot but you have to stop approaching this like I'm the same person you used to know."

He clenched his jaw in a barely perceptible movement that Olivia caught. His arms crossed in front of him like a wall being built brick by brick.

Exasperated, Olivia pressed on. "Elliot, it's been a long 24 hours and I don't want to do this. You need to tell me why you took these." She pointed at the photographs, sharply tapping her fingers against them as if to punctuate her words. "You owe me that."

His posture deflated as the fight drained from him. He seemed to fold inward, the wall he erected crumbling. His eyes shifted towards Rafael and Olivia could see they held discomfort and trepidation.

Olivia's intuition was sharp; she answered the unasked question in Elliot's hesitant gaze. "Rafael's presence is non-negotiable," she declared, her tone leaving no room for debate.

Elliot exhaled, the sound laced with tension, and his next words were almost lost in a whisper. "I've been wondering... about your life now."

"Sorry, what was that?" Olivia's voice was a mix of confusion and surprise.

His voice firmed up, "I've been out of your life for so long… I wanted to know about you. Who's been by your side…" his voice trailed off.

Olivia could feel Rafael's body stiffen from his spot behind her, the tension rolling off his body. She used every amount of training she had to keep herself from reacting, wanting to keep a calm outward appearance. "Okay," she started, "you need to give me more than that. I don't quite understand how that translates into these photos."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture of remorse. "Taking those photos wasn't the plan," he admitted, unable to meet her eyes, a blush creeping up his neck. "But there I was, outside your apartment..." His sentence trailed off incomplete as he glanced at Rafael, questions lingering in his eyes.

Rafael's stance was rock solid, his voice determined. "I'm staying right here." Even without turning, Olivia could picture the uncompromising glare he was leveling at Elliot, the kind he reserved for staring down scumbags in court.

Olivia's words tumbled out, heavy and awkward. "Why were you at my apartment?"

His reply came hesitantly, "I was gathering evidence and found myself there. I thought about coming to your door... then you and Noah appeared." At the mention of her son's name, her protective instincts flared, and she bristled. "You both seemed so carefree, stopping at that diner. I already had the camera for work," he ended weakly.

She could feel Rafael vibrating behind her, his body coiled ready for a fight. She raised her right hand and flicked her wrist, signaling to him that he needed to stand down. Her own emotions were tumultuous, caught between incredulity and a rising wave of nausea.

With trepidation in her voice, Olivia implored, "and the photos from Noah's school?"

"I was curious." He continued, "I'm happy for you Liv, you look so content."

A surge of disgust rose in her throat, a visceral reaction to the invasion of her privacy. Seeing the photos had been one thing but hearing that Elliot had been lurking, watching her and Noah made her feel violated in a way that she had hoped to never feel again. After Lewis, she worked hard in therapy to undo the damage that he had done, learning how to feel comfortable in situations where she felt like she had no control. Having Elliot return to her life without her knowing, was disorienting. It was if the ground beneath her shifted, the walls of the stark interrogation room seeming to close in, echoing her mounting panic. She gasped for air, each breath an anchor dragging her back from the abyss she felt looming beneath her.

The next sensation she registered was Rafael rubbing soothing circles on her back. His voice cut through the fog, steady and grounding. "Liv, are you okay? Liv?" Her eyelids lifted heavily, revealing Rafael’s face etched with concern.

"Livia, talk to me".

"Rafa?" his name the only thing her lips would form.

"You're shaking," he noted softly, his thumb sweeping away a tear that she didn't realize was falling.

"What can I do to help?" His plea was a soft-spoken filled with a gentle urgency.

She turned towards Elliot, his face a canvas of horror. Their eyes met, and he started to rise, a misguided instinct to close the distance between them.

Rafael's voice shattered the moment, its volume thunderous in the confined space. "No! You sit down, Detective Stabler. Now!"

Elliot hesitated, then sank back into his chair, the shame apparent in his subdued posture.

Rafael then turned to the one-way mirror, his command resolute. "We're done for now. Someone else can finish up with Stabler." He assisted Olivia to her feet, supporting her. "Lieutenant Benson needs a moment."

Rafael ushered Olivia from the room, her steps unsteady as they retreated to the sanctuary of her office, leaving the cold, sterile confines of the interrogation behind.

Sergeant Bell assumed Olivia's role in extracting Elliot's statement about the photos. With the initial wave of embarrassment shared, Elliot's reluctance dissipated, giving way to a stream of information. He delved into the specifics, oblivious to the fact that the images had found their way into the NYPD server alongside the others he had captured for his case. When he found the error, he thought he had removed them and saved them just to his own computer.

Separated by the one-way mirror of the observation room, Dodds and McCoy watched the back and forth between Stabler and Bell in contemplative silence.

McCoy spoke first, his gaze fixed on Elliot. "What do you think?"

Dodds exhaled sharply. "I think he's an idiot," he paused before adding, "but I buy that he didn't have anything to do with the leak."

Agreement flickered in McCoy's eyes. "And after all this settles?"

"He's out." Dodds response was immediate. "Early retirement." He turned towards McCoy, "we're going to have to arrest him for this to keep up appearances."

"Have you doctored the files?" McCoy inquired, a subtle intensity to his voice.

Affirmation came with a nod. "Gamble's digital footprint is erased. Now it shows Stabler rifling through the leaked files. And when we get the burner phone records, we'll craft a neat little trail right to his door."

McCoy's eyes drifted towards Olivia's office, his voice taking on a directive tone, "once those two are back, we should send Sergeant Bell out to get representation for Elliot so we can regroup on the next part of the interrogation."

The confirmation was a simple nod from Dodds.

Their attention still on the closed door of Olivia's office, McCoy's curiosity piqued. "Any thoughts on what's going on there?"

Dodds let out a laugh, unrestrained and rich with irony. "Earlier I asked them about it and they said they'd work it out," he mimicked, his fingers drawing quotes in the air.

A shared chuckle passed between them, McCoy's relief was palpable. "Thank god. I'm tired of watching them dance around each other and hearing the gossip it generates in my office."

Chapter Text

Rafael stroked the back of Olivia's head, which he had pulled against his chest in an attempt to shield her from everything outside the cocoon of her office. This was the second time in less than 24 hours that he had found himself with her cradled in his arms and his heart broke for her. Olivia's tremors had lessened, yet deep, measured breaths hinted at her ongoing struggle for composure. Rafael made to pull away for a better look at her, but Olivia's grasp clenched with renewed urgency at his slightest motion.

"Shh," he murmured, his breath caressing her silky tresses. "I'm right here, Liv. You're safe."

Her frame quivered and she burrowed further into him, seeking solace in the warmth of Rafael's chest. Testing out her grip, he felt it relax and he cautiously withdrew to peer into her eyes.

"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened?" he coaxed gently.

Drawing a fortifying breath, Olivia nodded, bracing herself. "It made me feel…having him watch me, made me feel like I have no control over my life," she confessed.

Rafael remained silent, offering her space to voice her ordeal without interruption.

Struggling with her next words, she faltered, "Ever since Lewis..." Unable to continue speaking about that man, she shifted direction. "Elliot's actions left me feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way I did with…" she stopped short, the other name lingering unspoken.

"Jesus Christ, Liv," Rafael exhaled, drawing her close once more, a tender kiss planted on her temple. He weighed his next words with care. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am that you're going through all of this. If I could take away your pain and bear it myself I would." He pulled back to look into her eyes. "Whatever you're feeling is valid but you are a badass Olivia, and no one can take that away from you."

Her response was a soft, heartfelt smile.

"Do you think when this over a visit to Doctor Lindstrom will help?" Rafael ventured.

She nodded. "He's good at helping me put things into perspective. We'll focus on the good space I was in before," she trailed off.

"Before you got caught up in some creepy loser's new found photography hobby?" he quipped.

Olivia’s reaction was a mix of amusement and reprimand; a snort escaped her as she shot him a warning look that spoke volumes.

He raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Am I mistaken?"

"No," she conceded, "but was it necessary to phrase it quite so bluntly?"

His response was swift. "Yes." At Olivia's raised eyebrow, he continued, "venting my anger is the only thing stopping me from marching back into that room and strangling the life from his throat."

"Speaking of that," she started. "Thank you for the restraint you showed in the interrogation room. I know that wasn't easy for you."

His reaction was a dismissive chuckle. "It was hardly noteworthy."

She needed him to understand the magnitude of his actions and looked deeply into his eyes. "No, Rafa, you don't get it—it was monumental." His puzzled expression prompted her to elaborate. "Elliot, he was a decent partner once, supportive, yet...he had his limitations." She paused, ensuring her words struck home. "His emotions often clouded his judgment, especially when it involved those he cared about. If he was in your place, he would not have been able to restrain himself." Her voice softened, laden with sincerity, "But you, you've shown me what it's like to have a partner I can trust implicitly. That’s everything to me."

Rafael's voice betrayed him, so instead, he communicated with a silent gesture, lifting her left hand to his lips for a tender kiss upon her knuckles.

They continued to revel in the solace of Olivia's office until Rafael became acutely aware that he was still cradling Olivia within the circle of his arms. Her closeness had him grappling with the urge to address her earlier words.

The silence that filled the room stretched until Rafael’s voice, faint but laced with meaning, broke through. "Did you mean it?" he inquired, his timbre barely above a whisper.

At her quizzical expression, he continued, "when you said that you love me?"

Her affirmation was swift, a decisive nod, "absolutely."

A wave of emotion surged within Rafael, culminating in a confession that felt torn from the depths of his being, "And I love you too, Olivia Benson, with all of my heart."

In the wake of his declaration, the space between them seemed to pulsate with a newfound intensity. His words lingered in the air, encapsulating a moment that felt both vulnerable and momentous. She looked into his eyes, a torrent of feelings reflecting back at him, her heart beating rapidly at his confession.

He gaze held affection with a hint of nervous anticipation. Slowly, almost hesitantly, his hands reached up to gently cradle her face. It was a movement that was steeped in tenderness. His thumb, in an exploratory gesture, lightly brushed across her lips. The touch was soft, almost questioning, as if discovering this aspect of her for the first time.

The world around them seemed to fall away, leaving them in their own bubble. When the kiss came, it was a gentle affirmation of his words. Unlike their first kiss, which had been a light peck earlier in Olivia's office, this one was underscored by the weight of his declaration. It was a kiss that spoke of beginnings and promises. It was tender and said more than words ever could.

As the kiss deepened, Rafael's fingers found themselves buried in Olivia's hair, using her tresses to pull her further into him. As passion swelled, their lips grew more fervent and they grasped at each other like they were the air the other needed to breathe. Rafael pressed his tongue against the seam of Olivia's mouth and she parted her lips in response. Tentatively, he introduced his tongue into their dance, massaging hers with slow, rhythmic motions. From deep within, a moan was torn from Olivia's throat, spilling into the silence of the room. The sound raw with desire, echoed the intensity of their growing connection.

Knowing that they were on borrowed time, Rafael slowed his movements and pulled away breaking the kiss. As they parted, a silent reverence filled their eyes, a testament to the moment they'd shared. They remained wrapped up in each other, breaths mingling in the narrow space between them, foreheads pressed together with their eyes still locked.

"Dios," Rafael whispered, the word a hushed exclamation, filled with wonder.

Olivia's nod was slow, full of discovery. "It's never felt like that before," she admitted.

With a touch as light as a feather, Rafael brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek, his fingers lingering against her skin. "I always suspected a kiss from you would be my undoing," he confessed, his voice a soft murmur. Gently, he placed a kiss upon her forehead, a sweet gesture to punctuate his next words. "There's no one else who could stir my soul the way you do."

"Rafa," Olivia exhaled, her voice a tender note in the quiet room, as if trying to release the swell of emotions that his proximity invoked.

His gaze drifted to her mouth and he had to bite his lip to stop the overwhelming desire to kiss her again. Now that he was aware of the allure her lips held, the silent promise of their softness taunted him. He had always been drawn to Olivia like a moth to a flame and should have known her kiss would be equally as addictive. Images of other parts of her body he knew he would crave flashed through his mind. With a disciplined inhale, he quelled the rising tide of longing.

Glancing towards the door, a subtle acknowledgment of reality, he spoke with a gentle firmness, "As tempting as it is to forget the world outside and acquaint myself with your lips over and over, duty calls." His question hung in the air, tinged with reluctance, "Are you ready to step back into it?"

Olivia's answer was filled with certainty, her eyes steady on his. "With you by my side, I'm ready for anything."

Chapter Text

"We can't put him in gen pop," Dodds noted. McCoy nodded in agreement.

Elliot did not take the rest of the interrogation well, evidenced by the grotesque contortion of the metal chair now resting in defeat against the cold, sterile floor. As the team debated next steps, Olivia's gaze fixed on its twisted form, her mind replaying the crescendo of fury that happened in that room.

Emerging from the sanctuary of her office, Olivia and Rafael were immediately pulled into Dodds' overview of the contents in the doctored file. He presented the fabricated evidence, each word a calculated effort to paint Elliot's guilt before an unsuspecting Sergeant Bell.

McCoy and Dodds re-entered the interrogation room with purpose and laid all the contents of the file before Elliot. The records of accessing leaked files, the incoming message sent to Wheatley, and his apparent closeness to Angela Wheatley —they threw in after Olivia noted their interactions in Angela's apartment. That last part struck a chord with Elliot and the angry contempt that had been simmering ratcheted up to blind fury and ultimately the death of her chair.

Ferocity etched onto his features, Elliot's voice thundered across the room, "It's that son of a bitch Barba, isn't it!" His hands, driven by wrath, seized the chair and sent it crashing against the wall with a clatter. He advanced on the one-way glass, his glare piercing as if he could bore through the barrier to confront Rafael. "He's orchestrating this against me!"

Dodds, with a measured calmness that starkly contrasted Elliot's rage, responded firmly, "Detective Stabler, we're merely laying out the facts our investigation has unearthed."

Elliot's roar was visceral, a raw explosion of indignation. "Bullshit!" He jabbed a finger accusingly toward the glass, each word a hammer strike. "It's him. It has to be."

Dodds, exasperation bleeding through his composed facade, pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a weary sigh. "I hate to even encourage this irrational line of thinking, but what possible reason would ADA Barba have for framing you? You just met yesterday and these records go back months."

Elliot's scoff carried a bitter edge. "He's jealous. That little weasel feels threatened—knows that he can't keep someone like Olivia satisfied without underhanded manipulation."

McCoy's intervention cut through the tension. "Enough," he commanded, his voice booming with authority that filled the room. "I will not listen to your baseless accusations. We're here to sift through evidence and record your statement. Cooperate or not, but this—this ends now."

Olivia was on the other side of the glass, absentmindedly playing with Rafael's watch on her wrist. The simple, repetitive motion was soothing to her. Rafael watched her for a moment before he reached out, took her hand gently, and stopped the nervous movement by lacing his fingers through hers.

His chuckle broke the quiet. "Seems I'm quite the villain," he mused, with a teasing edge.

She spun to face him, her smile blooming, a warmth that echoed in her gaze. He had a knack for drawing her back from the precipice of getting lost in the labyrinth depths of her own mind.

"What about protective detail?" McCoy’s voice brought her back to the present.

Olivia shook her head joining back into the discussion. "I don't know, I think it could be risky." She continued, "you said this Wheatley guy is dangerous, right?" We don't know if Gamble is the only one he has in pocket. Shining the spotlight on Elliot is one thing, but think about how much easier his life would be if he got rid of Elliot entirely?"

Dodds piped up, "I think protective detail can work but I take Lieutenant Benson's point. I'll look into arrangements for him."

McCoy let out a huff. "Maybe consider organizing a psych eval while you're at it?" He looked back into the interrogation room at Elliot. "That was…unhinged."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Dodds responded. "For now, I'll need to figure out what we're going to do with him overnight. I'm also going to get a couple of people monitoring Gamble."

At Olivia's glance towards the precinct's holding cells, Dodds jumped in. "Absolutely not. He can stay here the rest of the afternoon but I'm not leaving him here overnight." Before Olivia could pipe up, Dodds continued, effectively cutting her off, "I'm also not giving him to Sergeant Bell. It's going to be hard enough as it is to keep her from looking into this herself. I can't imagine how motivated she'll be after listening to him whine all night."

"What about holding at Hogan?" Rafael piped up. At the questioning looks he continued, "if we take him out of here discreetly, no one is going to think twice about checking for him there. Tell Bell that it's for safety and she'll keep quiet." He took a pause before adding, "besides, Ernie's on security tonight and if we ask him to look out for Stabler, he'll make sure he stays safe."

McCoy, intrigued, raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were so tight with our security."

Rafael just shrugged in response. "I work late."

Olivia wasn’t taken aback by Rafael's knowledge of the security schedule; she knew that under his tough façade the lawyer was nothing but a squishy marshmallow. To others, Rafael might have presented an impenetrable front, but Olivia had seen through to the compassionate core that he reserved for those he held dear. Ernie, an older and personable security guard, was a case in point. Their relationship was built on mutual respect and care, evidenced by the casual check-ins whenever Rafael’s office light burned late into the night. Ernie was the kind of man who naturally looked out for others, always nudging Rafael with gentle reminders about the fuller life beyond their casework. And it was a two-way street; Rafael reciprocated by showing a genuine interest in Ernie's world—his family, his pastimes, the fabric of his day-to-day. Olivia had witnessed first hand when she had been in Rafael's office during one of Ernie's pop ins.

His hidden compassion for others was just one of the many reasons Olivia loved Rafael Barba.

Wanting to back up her partner, she chimed in, "Ernie's solid; he'll make sure that Detective Stabler is safe. Especially if the request comes from Barba."

McCoy nodded his face still held a look of intrigue. "I'll make arrangements for him to stay in the court holding tonight. Barba, can you talk to Ernie when he gets in?" Rafael's agreement was swift, a quiet confirmation. Turning to Dodds, there was a hint of steel in McCoy's tone, "Proceed with the arrest."

A sly grin played across Dodds' face, a momentary lapse into levity amidst the gravity. "Miranda rights, huh? Guess it's time to see if I remember how this goes."

___________

After his formal arrest, Elliot was moved into the empty interrogation upon arrival of the representation that Bell was able to secure.

What to charge him with became a bit of a debate. He was charged with obstruction of justice for leaking information and conspiracy.

Rafael leaned forward with a pointed question. "Why are we not including stalking as one of his charges?" His comment was met with exchanged glances of uncertainty. Sensing the need for clarity, Rafael continued, "He didn't just follow Olivia and Noah; he misused NYPD resources to track their every move."

Dodds turned to McCoy, who, after a moment's reflection, acknowledged the truth in Barba's statements. "Indeed, we have grounds to charge him. His own admission was documented during his confession."

Dodds released a weary sigh, his eyes settling on Olivia. "Ultimately, it's Lieutenant Benson's decision."

Olivia's conflict was palpable; her voice wavered as she began, "I...," before trailing off into a heavy silence. Rafael interjected with a blend of urgency and concern, "Come on, Liv! Think about the potential risks."

She drew in a deep breath, her resolve hardening as she faced the unwelcome possibility. "I don't want to escalate this... yet."

Rafael's voice was soft but insistent as he simply said, "Liv."

She locked eyes with him, her tone firm yet tinged with reluctance. "If he crosses the line again, if he so much as casts a shadow on my family's privacy, I'll have him behind bars without hesitation," she asserted, yet she could tell that Rafael wasn't satisfied.

With the charges settled, McCoy headed back to his office to make arrangements and Dodds called the two squads into the conference space to let them know about the arrest.

Dodds' eyes, earnest and probing, scanned the faces before him. "I know this is a lot of information to take in. Does anyone have questions?" His voice was a grounding force, acknowledging the shared unease about charging one of their own.

Gamble's voice piped in, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Stabler's methods are unorthodox, sure, but this ... I can't wrap my head around it," he admitted, the words trailing off before adding, "although he was unusually fixated on Wheatley."

Olivia tried to keep her face impassive at his final remark but could feel Rafael's eyes on her.

Fin's response came next, a frown etching his features. "Stabler might be rough around the edges, but a rat? That doesn't add up." He asked, "are we sure?"

Without hesitation, Olivia stepped in, her words firm with the weight of evidence. "We double checked the evidence. The leak traces back to Elliot," she said, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "We're still not sure how me and Noah got tangled up in all of this. But he was watching us...documenting me and my son."

"Bastard," came Fin's swift response. "I'll kill him."

The silence that followed was palpable, but Carisi, always attuned to deeper emotions, turned to Olivia with a thoughtful look. "You holding up okay, Lieu? He was your partner for such a long time, with all that history, this situation's got to be tough."

Beside her, Rafael's posture stiffened, an almost imperceptible reaction to the word partner. Olivia subtly leaned into him to make contact, a silent exchange of the strength in their connection. "I'm as stunned as anyone, but I'm not alone," she responded. Her smile, brief but sincere, was a soft thank you to her team. "Thanks for checking in."

___________

After the team had dispersed, Olivia retreated to the solace of her office under the guise of needing to send a few emails. Rafael lingered at the doorway, his eyes holding a silent conversation of understanding before he gently shut the door, leaving her to the sanctuary of her thoughts. She sat behind her desk, the clutter of paperwork unnoticed, as she grappled with the image of Elliot from the interrogation room — sure, he had always been impulsive but never that unreasonable. She found that she didn't know him anymore, and if she was being honest with herself, she found that she was fine with that fact — letting herself forget about Elliot Stabler. It was a notion she never thought would ever cross her mind and it was throwing her for a loop.

Heeding Rafael’s advice, she dialed Dr. Lindstrom, securing an appointment for later in the week. Dr. Lindstrom's voice, steady and reassuring, promised a semblance of order in the chaos. As she replaced the receiver, a firm knock resonated against the wood of the door.

"Enter," she invited, her tone even.

The door swung open and Fin’s silhouette filled the frame. "Got time to talk?"

A silent nod directed him to the guest chairs, their dark leather illuminated by the sunlight spilling through her blinds.

With a soft click, Fin shut the door and settled opposite her, his posture taut with purpose. "Give it to me straight. What's up with Stabler?"

"Very perceptive. Did anyone ever tell you that you should become a detective?" she jested.

Fin leveled her with a glare that indicated he was serious. Olivia's gaze flickered to the door, now closed, their meeting space secured. "Okay, but this stays between us — no exceptions." She locked eyes with Fin, ensuring his full attention. "There's a leak, and while yes, Elliot did take those photos of me and Noah, it's looking more and more like he's being used as a pawn in this game."

A storm seemed to gather in the lines of Fin's face, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I'm still gonna kill him," he growled, the words slipping out between clenched teeth. "Did Stabler say why he took photos of you?"

Olivia's unease was palpable, her voice wavering slightly, "Uh, yeah. He claimed he wanted to keep tabs on what I was up to now."

Fin's expression darkened, a half-joke veiling the threat. "I'm serious, they'll never find him."

A laugh, short and hollow, escaped Olivia. "You need to rein it in. We have to play this like we're clueless."

Acknowledging with a terse nod, Fin's brow furrowed in realization. "This explains why Barba looked ready to throw punches Elliot's way yesterday." His eyes narrowed, piecing together the puzzle. "Gamble's in on this too, isn't he?"

"Damn it," Olivia exhaled sharply, a whisper of frustration. "I was hoping that had gone unnoticed." She nodded. "He's likely the leak."

Fin's arms unfolded in a wide shrug, the motion encompassing the gravity of their situation. "Is this is all a set up just for him? Hoping he'll slip up?"

A slow nod was her only reply at first, her eyes reflecting her exhaustion. "I hope we uncover the truth before we're blindsided by whatever comes next. We're treading through a minefield here, one step at a time and I'm just exhausted."

"Don't stress, Liv. You've handled worse, and you're not alone," Fin reassured her with a nod, his confidence in her evident.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Olivia reached out, her hand briefly covering his. "I appreciate it, Fin."

His gaze dropped to their hands, and a teasing grin broke through. "Still rocking that bling, I see."

Her lips twitched, a mix of annoyance and affection. "Not a word, Tutuola."

He stood up, the smirk lingering. "Alright, let’s roll. Time to check to see what that lawyer of yours is up to."

Exiting her office, Olivia and Fin both came to an abrupt stop as they took in the scene before them.

Chapter Text

Across the room, Carisi and Amanda were watching the same scene that Olivia and Fin had stumbled into.

"Are you seeing this?" the Italian detective asked, his eyes, while full of questions, also held a hint of fondness.

Amanda nodded, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to get over the shock of what her mind refused to believe what she was witnessing.

Sitting at the squad room conference table was their Assistant District Attorney, with Noah Benson snuggled comfortably in his lap as both huddled over a piece of paper, a riot of crayons spread out before them. Rafael, typically buttoned up for court, had long since ditched his jacket and pulled his tie so it was hanging loosely around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up his forearms, giving him flexibility as he leaned into the task at hand with surprising enthusiasm. Discarding his courtroom armour gave him a softer, more approachable look and had the detectives look at him in a new light.

"Did you ever think you'd see the day?" Amanda whispered, her voice laced with amazement, "Barba, de-suited, colouring with Noah?"

Sonny, equally stunned, shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. "Never in a million years. I mean, it's Barba. The guy debates court cases like it's the air he breathes."

They watched as Noah handed Barba a crayon, instructing him on the perfect shade of blue for their sky. "Put that here, Uncle Rafa," came the order in Noah's soft voice.

Barba nodded solemnly, taking the task as seriously as if it were a matter of law.

"Look at him, listening to Noah like he's discussing case strategy," Amanda chuckled, her eyes softening at the sight.

Sonny leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, but his stance was relaxed. "You know, it's kinda nice, seeing this side of him. Makes you realize there's more to a person than what you see on the job."

As they spoke, Noah burst into laughter, clearly amused by something Rafael had said. The sound was infectious, and Amanda noticed that Sonny couldn't help but smile wider.

She spoke up, her voice a mix of humor and warmth, eyes dancing with mischief. "As sweet as this is, I can't wait to tease him about it later."

Fin glanced at Olivia, catching the soft glow of affection in her eyes. "I gotta say, I was sure there was something between you and Barba, so I wasn't surprised -- although, I didn't think either of you would make the first move," he quipped. "But him and Noah? Never in my wildest dreams."

Olivia smiled, her gaze not leaving Rafael and her son. "It's all been a bit of surprise, to be honest," she admitted. "But a wonderful one. Rafael's always been passionate about his work and I knew he had capacity in his heart. I just never imagined he'd be so... so gentle, so patient with Noah. But he's nestled himself into both of our lives."

Fin responded, his tone carrying a note of respect. "Guess it goes to show, love changes people. Brings out the best in them."

Olivia turned to look at her long time friend, surprised at the use of the word love when she and Rafael had only just admitted their feelings.

"Please," he chuckled, "it's written all over both of your faces." Muttering under his breath, "has been for years."

She glared at him and he held up his hands. "What? I said I wasn't surprised. Worst kept secret in the NYPD." Knowing Olivia, he quickly added, "but you've both never been anything but professional."

Noah's voice interrupted their exchange. "We need the bestest green for here," he instructed pointing at the outline of grass.

Barba, his usual eloquence replaced with a genuine response matching his young pal. "The bestest green, you say? I think I have just the shade." He rummaged through the crayons, pulling out a vibrant green that mirrored the colour of grass in the morning, fresh and dewy. "How about this one?"

Noah's eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yes! Uncle Rafa!" His small hand reached out, fingers closing around the crayon with the kind of reverence usually reserved for a treasure. Together, they set to work, filling in the outlines of what was rapidly becoming a masterpiece of their shared creation.

The scene was punctuated with moments of laughter and exchange that seemed to draw a bubble around them, insulating them from the usual precinct noise. Barba showed Noah how to hold the crayon at a different angle to achieve a shaded, textured effect, his voice gentle and encouraging. "Like this, Noah. See how it makes the grass look more real?"

Noah, absorbing every word and action with the eager focus only children possess, mimicked Barba's movements, his tongue peeking out in concentration. "I did it, Uncle Rafa! Look!" He pointed at his drawing, keen to show Rafael his handiwork.

Barba's response was a proud, wide smile, the kind that reached his eyes and transformed his entire demeanor. "That's incredible, Noah. You're a natural artist."

Fin observed Olivia watching the exchange, the happiness radiating from her undeniable. "I'm happy for you, Liv. You both deserve it. And Noah," he paused, looking back at the scene before them, "looks like he's got himself a new role model."

__________________

After the boys finished their drawing, Olivia methodically packed up Noah's things, preparing to leave. Rafael had work to do, collaborating with Jack on the case against Elliot and making sure Ernie was set to keep watch tonight. Olivia felt a sense of emptiness at the thought of staying in the precinct without Rafael's company; their time together had made the place feel different, more bearable and she was uneasy about spending time away from him given their closeness over the last day.

She needed some time away from the office, to think over the interrogation with Elliot. Something about his reactions didn't sit right with her, and she was determined to talk to Rafael about it. But since leaving the interrogation, he was keeping his distance, seemingly avoiding any one-on-one time with her. He spent his time either with Noah or discussing cases with the other detectives. To anyone else, he was acting normal but Olivia knew better and had her suspicions about why he might be doing this, but she still wanted to have a real conversation with him about everything that was going on.

As Olivia was halfway through tidying up, the concerned voice of Noah broke the silence. "What's wrong, Uncle Rafa?"

She paused and watched as Noah, with the innocent curiosity that only a child possesses, gently traced his finger along Rafael's brow. "This looks sad," he observed, his voice tinged with a note of concern. Olivia's heart swelled with love; both she and her son were so in sync with Rafael that even the smallest change in his expression didn't go unnoticed.

There was a tender gleam in Rafael's eyes as he scooped Noah into his arms and settled him onto his lap. "Sad? Impossible," Rafael assured him with a gentle chuckle. "I'm with my favorite person."

Me?" Noah asked, his voice a mix of hope and astonishment.

With a reassuring grin, Rafael nodded. "Absolutely, you are." He reinforced his words with a playful tickle, sending waves of Noah's delighted giggles throughout the room.

When she had everything packed up, she approached Rafael, who was cuddling Noah, the latter holding onto the attorney's ear for comfort. With a soft, coaxing voice, she spoke to her son, "Noah, I need to talk to your Uncle Rafa before we head out. We're going home soon. Do you want to say goodbye now?"

Noah's lower lip trembled as he clung to Rafael, his small fingers wound tighter around Rafael's ear.

Rafael, quick to comfort, locked eyes with Noah. "I'll be back with you before you know it, buddy," he assured with a gentle smile.

"Promise?" Noah's voice quivered.

"I promise," Rafael affirmed, pressing a tender kiss to Noah's forehead.

"Love you, Uncle Rafa," Noah's declaration was muffled against Rafael's cheek, accompanied by a wet, affectionate kiss of a child.

Rafael's voice softened to a whisper. "I love you too, Noah."

Olivia's heart ached to interrupt such a sweet exchange, but urgency tugged at her. She glanced at Amanda. "Rollins, could you keep an eye on Noah for a moment? I need to speak with Barba privately, then we'll be on our way."

Rafael rose to follow Olivia, but his hesitant step stirred a sense of unease within her.

Once the privacy of her office enveloped them, Olivia faced Rafael, her eyes searching his. "I need you to open up to me, Rafa. Please," she implored. "Tell me what's bothering you."

Rafael's gaze dropped, a line forming between his brows. "Liv, I'd rather not make a big deal out of it. You already have a lot on your plate," he muttered, the weight of the unspoken pressing down on him.

Her response was firm, her hand reaching out to his. "Forgot about me for a moment. We're partners. I need you to be open and honest with me. What's on your mind?"

Exhaling deeply, Rafael's resistance crumbled. "Elliot. Why can't we take action on his stalking? Why do you seem to want to protect him?" His hand unconsciously combed through his hair, a gesture of frustration that left his usually impeccable style in disarray. "Tell me, Olivia, why do you keep holding back?"

She knew this was what was bothering him and let out a sigh. "I'm not holding back. I just don't want to add anything more to everything he has going on right now. There's something … there's something off with him."

Rafael’s following huff was a mix of frustration and concern. "This is based on your expert knowledge of a person you haven’t seen in ten years?" The sarcasm was evident.

Her eyes flashed, a spark of indignation, but he pressed on, "What do we do, Liv? Sit back until he spirals further? What if Noah gets caught in the crossfire, even by accident?"

She attempted to interject, "Rafa, listen—" but he barreled onward, determined to get his thoughts out.

"I'm serious Olivia," his voice louder as he grew impassioned and he began pacing around her office. "You seem to be losing sight of the fact that he got your son kidnapped. I'm worried that we're too focused on Dodds issue of the leak and what Elliot might have done instead of what he actually did do. You said it yourself, he took away your control and invaded your privacy."

She tried to keep her voice calm to not agitate him further. "I know what he did and I'm not excusing him. I just don't think it will be an issue going forward and besides…"

Rafael’s next words came like thunder, "Are you even thinking about Noah, what if something else happens to him?"

"Hey," she snapped back. "I know how to take care of my own son!"

His steps halted, his gaze locked with hers, and the storm seemed to pause. She softened her tone, "I’d walk through fire before letting Noah be harmed by Elliot’s chaos. Charging him would only drag us deeper into his mess. If you charge him, then I get wrapped up in his case and even worse, might have to take the stand…"

Rafael interjected, "We wouldn't let it— I would never…"

She halted his assurance, "It’s not in our hands if it goes to trial." Her hand enveloped his, trying to soothe the tension in his knuckles. "This isn’t about forgiveness. It’s about choosing our battles wisely."

His sigh was a white flag, a sign of his surrender. "Fine. But if he does anything and I mean anything that ever puts you and Noah at risk again…"

Her laugh was light, a beacon cutting through the tension in the air. "I'll chum the waters myself and release my blood thirsty shark of a lawyer on him."

At her words, Rafael's smile broke through, fierce and purposefully baring his teeth. Her laughter rang out in response, echoing in the confines of her office.

"Mi amor," he whispered, his hands squeezing hers as a signal of their combined strength.

Olivia wasn’t done and braced herself for the next part, her stance firm. "I need to discuss something that you're not going to like and I'm asking for an open mind, Rafael."

His gaze intensified, a shadow crossing his face, as though the courtroom had materialized around him and he was preparing himself for a legal battle.

She took the plunge, "I need to have a conversation with Elliot tonight."

His reaction was swift, a surge of disbelief in his voice that rang out loudly in her office. "No, that's out of the question."

She clasped his hand, drawing him in, sharing her urgency. "The way he was acting, it wasn't him. McCoy was right, he was, unhinged."

"Then he needs a psychological evaluation," Rafael countered, his voice cutting through the tension. "I don't think you can provide the type of help or solutions he needs."

Olivia's plea was earnest. "I know there's more than what he told us. He used to get defensive, deflect when he didn't want to discuss something." She continued, "what we witnessed was that ratcheted up to a hundred."

Rafael held firm and shook his head. "Even if I agreed, Dodds and McCoy would never consent to it."

She offered a pragmatic shrug, "so we don't tell them."

"No," he stated bluntly. "Did you forgot that he met with his legal representation today? We can't just talk to him."

"Come on," Olivia urged trying to coax the answer she wanted. "I'll say whatever legal mumble jumble you want me to — I'll record the conversation. Say it's off the record, on the record, whatever." Her eyes held his. "But I need you with me. Together in this, partners, as we've always been."

The resolution in her eyes, the mention of their partnership, it pierced through his defenses. "Alright," he conceded, the fight leaving him. "We document everything. If Elliot offers anything we can use, we tell Dodds and McCoy we were getting him settled and he just started talking."

She nodded, sealing the silent pact between them. "I accept your terms, counselor," Olivia affirmed, her voice a whisper of agreement.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth curving into a wry, knowing smirk. "I've always had little resolve when it came to you. I guess I stand no chance now, do I?" he admitted, the playful tone belying the truth in his words.

"Nope," she replied, drawing out the consonant with a teasing lilt, the 'p' popping like a cork from a champagne bottle.

The action drawing Rafael's eyes to her mouth. His gaze intensified, a storm of emotion swirling in his eyes as he stepped forward, closing the gap between them with a calculated ease. His hand journeyed to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. Olivia's eyelids fluttered shut in anticipation, her breath caught in the midst of a gasp, her lips parting slightly, expectantly.

Their lips met in an inferno of longing and mutual reverence. Rafael's kiss was insistent, his lips moving in a dance of desire that Olivia answered fervently. Her arms reached up to encircle his neck, drawing him impossibly closer, her fingers dancing through his hair in a tender caress. The kiss was both a gentle exploration and a passionate affirmation, as profound as the history they shared. It was a kiss that spoke to their enduring alliance, the depth of their trust, and the raw edge of their mutual craving.

As they reluctantly parted, a haze of wonder clouded Olivia's senses. The intensity of their connection left her untethered, each kiss feeling like both their first and a promise of the countless to come. It was all-consuming, staggering in its intensity, and Olivia was left breathless, anchored only by the steady gaze of the man before her.

“I’m the one who doesn’t stand a chance,” she whispered, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Chapter Text

In the subdued twilight of his office, Rafael walked back and forth, his figure cutting through the long, peculiar shadows cast by the setting sun. The room had not yet been compromised by the sharp glare of overhead lights and with the sun's strength waning to a dim, it played tricks on the walls, creating grotesque shapes that seemed to resonate with Rafael's inner turmoil. Coming on the heels of a strategic discussion with Jack about Elliot's case, he was now anxiously waiting for the arrival of Ernie and Olivia.

Rafael had begrudgingly agreed with Olivia's decision against pursuing stalking charges against Elliot, yet the choice left a sour taste in his mouth, as if a plea deal had gone awry. He was already mentally preparing his case to add the charge, if only he could get Olivia to reconsider and see the merit in pressing forward.

He could almost sense her presence before she materialized, as if his thoughts had somehow conjured her into being. There stood Olivia, a silhouette framed by the mellow glow of the hallway, an elegant figure leaning with casual grace against the doorway. The soft curl of her lips hinted at an amusement that only she was privy to. It was obvious that she had arrived sooner than he noticed her and Rafael caught himself sifting through the past few minutes, trying to find reassurance that his internal monologue had remained just that—internal.

"Something on your mind," Olivia's voice cut through the silence. Her tone laced with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Rafael shook his head. "No, I was just thinking through my discussion with Jack on Elliot's case," his voice a blend of fatigue and resolve.

A heavy breath left Olivia, carrying with it the weight of the world they both shouldered. "I hate this." Seeing the brief shadow of doubt flicker across Rafael's features, she added, "I have no sympathy for Elliot, please trust that isn't what this about. I just want this to all be over." Her shoulders deflated at those last words. "I'm tired of this."

Closing the space between them with a few purposeful strides, Rafael wrapped Olivia in a reassuring embrace. His lips found the warmth of her forehead, his kiss a silent promise. "Me too. I really want to focus on our discussion," he assured her softly, their bodies finding a natural rocking rhythm in each other's arms.

Olivia drew a deep, grounding breath, the scent of him enveloping her. "Mmm. I don't just want to talk," she whispered, the implication hanging heavy in the air. She stepped back slightly to lose herself in the depth of his gaze and was taken aback by the inferno she met in his emerald eyes.

"Olivia," he breathed out, her name hanging between them, half-vow, half-plea.

Laughter rumbled through the space, interrupting their moment. It was a deep, rich sound that had Olivia and Rafael breaking their embrace and turning as one. Ernie stood in the doorway, his frame filling it, a smile playing about his lips.

Ernie Nichols was an older man whose face was etched with lines that spoke of countless stories and sleepless nights. His eyes were a deep brown, almost amber, flickered with a wisdom that came from a life well lived. Those eyes could sparkle with joy or harden into a stony resolve, a testament to a soul carved by time and experience.

He had that timeless quality, a bridge to a long-gone era with his old-world charm and straightforward honesty. To the ones he cherished, he was a man filled with kindness, yet he held a steel spine for those who sought to cross him or the people he protected. Rafael and Olivia, were counted among the fortunate few that found themselves wrapped within his inner circle.

"I saw that Mr. Barba's lights were off, so I had to see for myself that he left early." Ernie's voice held a teasing lilt. "This time, I'm glad to see that I was wrong." He paused before adding, I'm pleased to see that you both have stopped tripping over each other." His smirk was knowing. "I knew you'd figure it out eventually."

Heat crept up Rafael's neck and he shifted awkwardly on his feet.

Olivia stumbled for a moment, but responded, "you always seem to know what's going to happen."

"No," he shook his head. "Just a closeted romantic -- I had hoped."

Rafael, gathering himself, adjusted his jacket with a tug in a gesture aimed at putting his armor back in place. "Well, um, now that we're all here… Ernie, we were hoping to ask for a favor."

"Anything for you, Mr. Barba," Ernie's response was swift, his loyalty evident.

"It's Rafael," he said, a soft insistence in his tone urging the use of his first name, although he knew it was a futile attempt. "We need to bring a prisoner here over night, in the courthouse cells. It's a temporary situation and shouldn't pose any risk to you."

Ernie's eyebrow arched, a silent question hanging in the air.

"He's a cop. We're working to arrange security detail for him," Rafael clarified, hoping to ease any concern.

"If it's important to you both, it's not a problem. I’ll keep an eye on him," Ernie said, his voice steady and assured. "Will he put up any kind of fuss?"

Rafael’s laugh was short, more a clipped release of breath than anything resembling amusement. "You don’t know the half of it," he replied, the words barely above a whisper.

Olivia was quick to intervene, her voice firm, reflecting her role as the mediator. "He won't give you trouble. Fin’s on standby, ready to move him as soon as we've got your green light."

Ernie gave a nod, a signal that he was in control and unbothered by the prospect of inconvenience. "Inform Detective Tutuola he’s clear to transport the prisoner."

Relief was evident in Olivia’s expression as she responded, "Thank you, Ernie. As always, we knew that we could count on you."

____________________

In less than an hour, Fin had Elliot moved to the courthouse and secured in the holding cells.

In the dingy room, two sets of cells lined the puke green walls. In the middle of the space sat an impressive oak table lined with heavy wooden chairs. The air carried a persistent chill, a coldness that seemed to seep into one's bones, perhaps a reflection of the countless fears and anxieties that had passed through these temporary quarters. Surveillance cameras perched in upper corners, providing an illusion of safety and an assurance of accountability.

Fin began to make his way towards the exit and as he passed Olivia, he stopped to gave her his observations. "He was quiet on the way over. Clearly wound up and ready for a fight."

"Thank you Fin," her gratitude evident. "I'll call you if I need anything but I appreciate you staying late to manage him."

"Don't sweat it," he said, nodding at Ernie on his way out. "Good luck, man." And with that, Fin left for the evening.

Olivia pivoted to face Elliot, her eyes quickly scanning his form. He stood defiantly, pressed against the cold iron bars, arms raised and head bowed in a posture that was equal parts resignation and challenge. His stare was intense, almost piercing, as if trying to decipher Olivia's intentions before a word was spoken.

"Elliot," she began, her voice steady, betraying none of the tension that tightened the air between them. "There are some questions I need to ask you."

His silence hung heavy in the cell, an obvious defiance to the process he knew all too well. Olivia waited, patient but unwavering. "You can refuse to answer, or have your lawyer present," she reminded him, gesturing toward the cameras. "But if you're willing to talk, know that it's all on record."

Time stretched on, measured only by the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Finally, Elliot's voice, roughened by a mixture of fatigue and frustration, cut through the stillness. "Fine," he conceded.

As Olivia moved closer, ready to bridge the gap with her questions, Elliot's voice stopped her advance.

"Can you at least let me out of this cage?" Elliot complained.

Rafael's response was swift, firm. "There's absolutely no chance."

However, Elliot's plea was directed at Olivia, his gaze piercing, earnest. 'Please, Liv. I give you my word, I won't cause trouble—I'll remain seated."

Olivia paused, contemplating the weight of his promise, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. A silent sigh escaped her as she gave a reluctant nod.

Rafael's objection was immediate, his voice rising in alarm. "Olivia, no!"

Her touch was soft on his arm, her eyes imploring as she sought his trust. "Rafa, please. Trust me."

His indignation was palpable as he shook his head, his disappointment released in a single huff. "Fine. But he's handcuffed to the chair and Ernie stays. Right there, in the corner. Alert."

She accepted this compromise with a simple, "Okay." But added, “I need you to stay in the corner as well. Silent.”

Elliot couldn't help but let out a low chuckle at the unfolding scene, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement. “Well, now I see who wears the pants in your relationship."

Rafael was on the verge of retort, but Olivia was quicker. "Why?" she interjected, confidence lacing her tone. “Because he respects me as his equal, someone capable to make decisions? He supports me?” Her smile was wry, knowing. "And as for the PANTS—there is NOTHING wrong with the ones he wears." The dig was deliberate, laced with innuendo and crafted to unsettle Elliot. She knew it would result in her having to deal with childish behavior, but an angry Elliot made mistakes, had trouble keeping his walls up.

When she saw darkness wash over his eyes, she knew that her comment had it's intended effect.

His voice was a low rumble of impatience. "Let's just get this over with."

Once Ernie had Elliot secured to the chair, Olivia settled into the seat across from the detective, her posture open yet commanding. "It's been a long time Elliot, but I'd like to think that I still know you at least a little bit. You were holding back something during your interrogation."

His reply came as a sharp retort, defensive walls instantly erected. "I said everything I have to say," he asserted, his jaw set firm.

She leaned forward slightly, her voice a soft, "I can't help you unless you talk to me."

Elliot scoffed. "What makes you think I need your help?"

"You want to try that line again while not handcuffed to a chair?"

His silence hung heavy between them, prompting her to pivot strategies. "How about we shift gears then. Angela Wheatley. What's your relationship with her?"

The muscles in his jaw twitched at the mention of the name. "None of your business."

Her eyebrows arched, a challenge in her gaze. "Oh, so it's fair for you to ask about my personal life but I can't ask about yours?" Her tone was sharp and left no room for argument.

Elliot rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, a clear signal of his defiance.

"You want to know what it looked like to me?" Olivia probed, her voice a mix of intrigue and accusation. "It looked you are involved with her. Romantic or physically, I couldn't tell but there's definitely something going on between you two."

He averted his gaze, a discomfort seizing him.

"She's a married woman, Elliot." She pressed, hoping that he would further provoke him.

Fury ignited his eyes as they locked onto hers. "Her marital status isn't lost on me, O-liv-i-a," he emphasized, punching out each syllable in her name. "YOU of all people should know what the sanctity of marriage means to me." The implication hanging in the air of the past closeness in their partnership, which had sometimes blurred the lines of appropriate. But had always been held back from tipping over the line, his marriage to Kathy hanging over them.

His comment had its intended effect. She briefly faltered in her composure before regaining her self-control.

"Prove me wrong, then," she challenged.

The heavy silence that followed spoke volumes.

“So a little of both then?” she inferred.

"That's not it," he cut in sharply. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

"Then enlighten me, Elliot," she countered in her quest for truth. His brow furrowed with his annoyance; she could see that he was starting to lose control of the walls he put in place.

"She needed a friend," he began to explain.

"And you decided that should be with benefits?" Olivia interrupted with a raised brow.

"You sound jealous," he sneered.

"I'm not," she stated flatly, her gaze drifting momentarily towards Rafael—an unspoken reassurance hanging in the glance.

Elliot caught the subtle look, his observation skills honed from years of police work. "Ah, yes. Can't forget about Mr. Fancy Pants," he quipped with a wry tilt of his head.

She shot back with a fierce look. "I told you that we're not here to talk about the contents of Rafael's pants," she snapped, their stares clashing like crossed swords.

Rafael's cellphone pierced the tension, its shrill tone slicing the hush of the room.

"Excuse me," Rafael said, his voice laced with regret as he stepped out of the space for privacy.

Olivia swung her attention back to Elliot. "He's gone, so spill. What's going on?"

Elliot's gaze dropped, then met hers, a mix of regret and resolve. "I want to apologize for taking those photos of you and your son." He looked embarrassed.

She raised a hand, silencing him. "Save it. I'm shelving that issue for now—until a time I feel something other than rage towards you."

He offered a contrite nod. "Understood. But I am sorry."

She gave him a firm nod of acknowledgement. "Out with it, then."

He released a weary exhale. "Angela and I... it started as me trying to help her escape Richard. That guy is... well, he's more beast than man." A moment's pause, then, "I got in over my head, and it spiraled from there."

She listened, her face giving nothing away.

He continued, a note of vulnerability creeping into his voice. "Since the divorce from Kathy... I've been lonely…drifting." A deep sigh deflated him. "She was leaving her husband, and—God, one thing lead to another."

Rafael entered the room as silently as a shadow, reclaiming his place by Ernie. He could tell that Olivia felt his return but that he went unnoticed by Elliot.

Olivia, careful not to alert Elliot kept the focus on her. "So that explains your evasiveness earlier in the interrogation— you didn't want to talk about Angela."

Elliot's gaze snapped to meet hers, intensity burning in his eyes. "No, that’s not it. I know… I'm pretty sure… I think that Gamble is the leak. I just don't know who to trust right now."

Olivia, while not shocked by his revelation, tried to keep her emotions passive. "Why do you think it's Gamble?"

"The photos. Gamble knew about them. I caught him looking at the files. That’s how I pieced together that they were archived on the server instead of my desktop. When I tried to fix it, he was the one who confirmed that they had been deleted." He muttered, "I see now that was a lie."

She weighed his words. "That's circumstantial evidence at best." She could practically feel Rafael beaming behind her at her use of legal jargon.

Elliot nodded, but kept his conviction. "Then Wheatley was lurking outside Angela’s place. I saw him with my own eyes, Olivia, I know I did. But who was the one person who could verify what I saw?" Elliot paused before continuing, " I know he has two different phones and one looks like a burner. I asked him about it once and he said he uses it for gambling…nothing illegal."

"So why didn't you mention any of this to Dodds and McCoy?" Olivia asked.

Elliot responded, "you said it yourself, it's circumstantial." His eyes narrowed. "And you all seemed pretty confident that I'm your guy."

Olivia reclined against the cold metal chair, her mind methodically dissecting Elliot's testimony. After a moment of reflection, she leaned in, her voice low and steady with resolve. "Alright, I'll pass on what you've told me to Dodds," she said, her hand raised to forestall any interruptions from him. "The part about Angela Wheatley stays between us, for now… but you need to fess up at some point. She's connected to a suspect."

Elliot's nod was heavy but his agreement was clear. Olivia could tell that he would be cooperative for the time being.

She rose, her movements echoing in the room, and she crossed the distance to where Rafael stood. Her voice dropped to a whisper meant for his ears only. "I'm going to make that call. Once Elliot is secured, we can head home."

A genuine smile broke across Rafael's face at the mention of 'home'. "I'm counting the minutes," he said, his tone carrying a warmth that permeated the chill of the room.

____________________

Stepping into the hallway, Olivia called Dodds and he picked up on the second ring. She walked him through the information Elliot provided and while he wasn't happy they spoke to the detective, he was pleased that he corroborated their suspicious. He was going to have the security footage at Angela's apartment building reviewed thoroughly.

As Olivia clipped her phone shut, the silence of the corridor was shattered by the harrowing echo of four booming gunshots, each blast felt like a squeezing grip on her chest. A dozen paces from the holding cell entrance, her head snapped towards the sound, her body coiled tight with sudden alarm.

"Rafa," she exhaled, a plea floating on the air. Her hand was a blur to her side, fingers wrapping around the cool grip of her gun with practiced ease. She was moving before she fully realized it, feet pounding the linoleum, every sense straining as she raced back to the cells.

Chapter Text

Lucia Barba had lived a hard life. Raised by parents who believed in rigid discipline over affection, she learned very early on to mask her feelings and keep pushing forward. It was this mantra that led her into the arms of a man whose love was a disguise for control. A man whose earlier honey coated words were sweet when needed but whose hands brought nothing but pain.

The abuse, both verbal and physical, had cast a shadow over their family that they couldn't escape. A darkness that loomed in every corner, ready to pull them into an abyss. Lucia had done her best to shield her child from the terror of his father, absorbing every blow and spiteful barbs thrown their way. But his wrath was relentless, and she became no stranger to mending bruises and cuts that littered the body of her son. She often felt an embarrassment, haunted by her inability to protect her son, the one person who relied on her the most; it threatened to choke her at times. However, she was a strong woman and the resiliency she built on top of her hardships was unmatched. She vowed to herself that the violence stopped with her and any future generations would only know love. This was one of the reasons she had built a career around nurturing the minds of young children.

But today, standing in front of the final resting place of her only son, Lucia was confronted with a pain that transcended anything she had ever felt. A grief so profound that it left her shattered, a husk of the woman she used to be. Watching the casket of her baby boy being lowered into the ground was a scene so cruel that she had a hard time believing it was real. Lucia knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would never recover from this devastating loss.

Next to her, Olivia stood, her hand gripping Lucia's with a force that spoke of shared sorrow and agony. Noah was next to his mother, his small fingers knotted in the folds of her black skirt. He was too young to understand the reason for their gathering, yet spent most of the morning on the verge of tears, picking up on the emotions of the adults around him.

His gaze found the photo wreathed in flowers, a tiny hand pointing. "Uncle Rafa?" he whispered.

"Yes, sweetie," Olivia crouched, her voice a murmur, "that's Uncle Rafa."

"Can we see Uncle Rafa later?" came Noah's next question.

An anguished wail escaped Lucia's lips and Olivia's grip tightened on the older woman's hand in response.

"No sweetie. Uncle Rafa had to go away." Olivia's response was clipped, her voice straining as she tried to hold back her tears.

The tell-tale quiver of Noah's lip gave way first, then the staccato of breaths, each one a dam against the inevitable tide of tears. His huffs picked up momentum until, finally, his eyes released their flood.

"But, I want... Uncle Rafa," he sobbed, the words catching on each hitch of breath.

Olivia bent down to pick up her son, cradling him into her chest and rocking back and forth. "We all do, baby, we all miss him very much." She tipped his face up to hers, her eyes locking with his. "It's okay to hurt, Noah. But remember that Uncle Rafa would only want you to be happy."

Noah breathed deliberately through his nose, battling his grief.

Lucia’s gaze rested on Olivia and her son, a pang tightening in her chest. Although she knew her son was fond of the young boy, witnessing the depth of their bond was a revelation, a connection she wished she saw in person. Regret hit her, thick as the fresh tears that spilled down her cheeks.

After the funeral, a reception was held at the family church, which was short walk from the burial site. The church hall, usually echoing with the sounds of congregation and worship, was subdued, its air heavy with sorrow. Long tables draped in cream colored linens stood in solemn rows, each adorned with a modest centerpiece of white lilies and flickering candles, their scent mingling with the faint incense lingering from the sanctuary. The stained glass windows, vibrant with religious scenes, cast a mosaic of colors across the room, lending an ethereal glow to the gathered mourners.

As Lucia wove through the clusters of attendees, she was surprised at the turnout from Rafael's workplace—faces from every chapter of her son’s career. The officers of the Special Victims Unit stood shoulder to shoulder with high-ranking officials and prosecuting attorneys, a testament to Rafael’s reach.

With each handshake, each embrace, Lucia found solace in the stories that brought her son back to life, if only in memory.

Amanda’s story drew a collective chuckle, her recount of Rafael’s courtroom antics painting him vividly in the moment. She recalled, "…and then he put the belt around his neck."

"He didn’t..." Carisi's disbelief broke into a smile. "Did the defendant pull?"

Amanda’s nod was vigorous, her smile wide. "Oh, he did. Barba's eyes almost popped out of his head from the force. And the judge's reprimand? Priceless."

Fin’s chuckle rumbled in the room, "He was one of a kind. The best damn ADA we ever had."

Approaching, Lucia offered an appreciative nod. "Thank you all for coming," her voice was steady, gratitude lacing each word. "Hearing how well-regarded Rafi was, it’s a comfort."

Carisi’s eyes met hers, warmth and full of sorrow. "We're sorry for your loss, Mrs. Barba. Rafael was a great man."

Fin’s nod was solemn, a silent echo of agreement.

Amanda’s voice was soft but sure, "let us know if you need anything."

As she continued her rounds, Lucia spotted Olivia secluded in the room’s shadow, a lone figure cradling herself amidst a sea of somber suits and black dresses.

“Olivia dear, why aren't you with your squad?” Lucia’s voice cut gently through the murmurs around them.

Olivia’s gaze lifted, her eyes swimming in grief. "I'm so sorry Mrs. Barba." Tears carved clear paths down her cheeks. "I couldn't save him. It's my fault."

"But you did, my dear." Lucia ran a soothing hand down Olivia's arm. "You saved him from himself. And for that, I will be eternally grateful."

With a sweeping hand, Lucia indicated the gathering. "I had always hoped my Rafi would have a family. While this isn't quite what I pictured, I can see that he does and you are at the heart of it." She wrapped her arms tightly around Olivia. "Thank you for being his heart. For giving him something other than a life full of case files."

Olivia’s sob was stifled, her voice a fragile whisper. “I would give anything for more time, to reverse the wasted years. I love him so much.”

“There, there,” Lucia’s voice was a soothing balm. “In time, you will find each other again. Then you'll have an eternity of love."

They remained intertwined, two souls clinging to shared memories, until Noah’s small hand on Olivia’s skirt broke the embrace, his need to go to the bathroom pulling his mother away.

Left in solitude, Lucia’s heart swelled with a wave of sorrow. She closed her eyes, and an image popped into her mind. Her son, young and full of joy at his conquest of learning to balance on two wheels. His excited laughter a melody on the breeze. She remembered his tiny hands, fearless and sure on the handlebars, the training wheels abandoned on the grass. That day, his eyes—vivid, sparkling emeralds—had shone with the triumph of his monumental achievement.

Those eyes, once vibrant with youthful mischief, later filled only with affection for her, were now lost forever.

The pain was unbearable. It crept up her throat like a phantom hand, tightening around it, an unseen force pressing the air from her lungs. Lucia fought for breath, her struggle silent as the darkness drew her in. Across that growing void, Olivia's image flickered, and Lucia yearned to reach out. Yet, her voice was trapped in the shadows, and as her knees buckled, she descended into oblivion.

Then, abruptly, the oppressive weight lifted. Lucia's lungs expanded in a desperate rush, dragging her back to the brink. The void gave way to the piercing ring of reality. Eyes fluttering open, she was greeted by the familiarity of her bedroom, the darkness pierced only by the insistent glow of her phone. With a trembling hand, she reached out; the name 'Olivia Benson' coming into focus on the caller ID.

Chapter Text

With a dread that tingled in her fingertips, Olivia stepped into the sterile chill of the holding cells, the metallic sting of blood lingering in the air—a heavy scent that clung to the inside of her nostrils. The first thing she noticed was Detective Gamble. The harsh fluorescent lights cast an unforgiving glow on his form, his body strewn lifeless across the entryway. Blood pooling from the wound in his head was a clear sign of how he died. She maneuvered his outstretched arm to the side with the delicate precision to give her a clear pathway without disturbing his body too much. Her gun remained steady before her.

To her left, a ragged exhale of suffering drew her gaze. Ernie, slumped against the cold concrete wall, his uniform painted in crimson on his right arm.

"How bad?" Olivia's voice cut through the silence that clung to the air.

Ernie's response was guttural, conjured deep from within. "Hurts like heck, but death's not knocking yet." A tilt of his head was all he could muster towards where Elliot had been sitting. "Go check on Mr. Barba."

With each step, Olivia felt the dread like a weight pressing down on her. Rounding the table, she met a scene of desperation pulled straight from her nightmares.

Elliot, his features etched with despair, gazed down at Rafael. The lawyer's form lay still across the detective's legs, violent red liquid blossoming from a spot on the left side of his upper chest—Elliot's free hand making a futile attempt to ebb the persistent flow of life seeping out.

"Rafa," Olivia's voice fractured, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Upon hearing the crack in her voice, a sound he loathed to hear, Elliot’s head lifted. Their gazes met and held a silent exchange in the space between them. In her eyes swirled a wave of fear, while his bore an unspoken apology.

Elliot's words were a struggle, as if each syllable weighed down by the gravity of the situation.

“He… he jumped,” his gaze latched onto Olivia, desperate for reasons amidst the madness. “Why?” It was a question that held the weight of the trio's unspoken history, a plea for Olivia to conjure up answers.

Olivia could barely register his words, the pulse in her ears drowning out all but her own rapid heartbeat. She collapsed beside Rafael, her body convulsing with sobs that shook the very foundation of her being.

"Please, don't leave me," she pleaded through tears, her voice raw with fear. She barely noticed Elliot’s hand in her periphery, reaching into her jacket pocket to retrieve her phone. He barked out orders into the receiver with the authority of a man who refused to concede control of the situation.

"I can't lose you," she murmured against Rafael’s chest, her fingers twisting the fabric of his suit jacket, seeking solace in the solid reality of his presence. Her tears mingled with the warmth of his blood—the contrast of liquids painting a Rorschach blot depicting her nightmare on his white shirt.

Elliot's hand reached over Olivia and felt for Rafael's pulse. "He's still with us, Liv." His voice was a grounding force, his hand on her back a beacon of support. “Help is on the way. I called in a 10-13.”

Olivia clung to Rafael, her safehouse amidst the turmoil, resolving never to release her grip on him. The world beyond their embrace became a distant murmur, until the rhythm of hurried footsteps shattered the cocoon she tried to build.

"Prioritize him!" Elliot commanded, cutting through the chaos as he steered the paramedics to Rafael's side.

A hand, firm yet sympathetic, rested on Olivia's shoulder, urging her to move. "No!" her protest reverberated off the prison walls, a raw echo of her despair. Her fingers clawed the air, desperate to reconnect with Rafael, the lawyer who'd become her lifeline.

"Please, ma'am." The paramedic's voice was a soft plea, laced with understanding. "He needs us."

Reluctantly disentangling herself, Olivia stood unanchored, arms folded tightly, as if the embrace could fend off the suffocation of the room. Horror clutched at Olivia as she beheld the scene before her, a chilling dread wrapping her heart with its icy tendrils as she looked at Rafael's unconscious form. Unbidden, tears carved a relentless path down her cheeks.

"Liv," Elliot's voice reached out, gently insistent to break through the haze of her dread. "Liv."

Her eyes, grudgingly parting from the lawyer, found Elliot. The sight of him, so completely disheveled, his shirt a bleak testament to the violence, stained deeply with Rafael's blood, pulled a gasp from her—a gasp that seemed to draw the pain into her own body, making her heart ache even more. His hand was still tethered to the chair, his arm hanging with a deceptive calm that didn't match the tension in his eyes. Her gaze following his arm to the shoulder, she saw its telltale slump, a sign of injury.

"You're hurt," she murmured, the numbness in her body echoing the hollowness of her voice.

"It's nothing," he brushed off the concern with a tilt of his head toward the others. "Barba and the guard—they're the priority." Yet the slight grimace as he spoke betrayed his false bravery. "But can you take the cuff off me?"

Nodding, Olivia moved as though in a trance, her steps toward Ernie measured and deliberate. He was sitting on the cold floor, a paramedic's focused attention tending to his wound to secure him for travel to the hospital. Retrieving the keys felt like a monumental task, but she managed. Returning to Elliot, she freed him from the cold constraints, dropping his shackles to the floor with a loud clink.

"Should you call Dodds? Or maybe Fin?" Elliot asked, attempting to ground her in the work aspect of the violent scene.

With a terse nod, she agreed. "I’ll call them both once we’re on the way," she said, her eyes never leaving Rafael's pale face. "I have to accompany him.

Almost on cue, the paramedics secured the gurney with efficient clicks, readying Rafael for the frantic journey ahead. "We must move now!" the nearest paramedic asserted, urgency shaping his features. "Are you coming with us?" he directed to Olivia.

Her response was a rapid succession of nods. "Yes, I’m coming." She turned to Elliot, her voice edged with desperation. "Can you stay with Ernie?" The question was twofold; it wasn’t just about ensuring the security guard's welfare but also ensuring that she could say Elliot was under a watchful eye since he was still technically under arrest.

Rafael's transition to the ambulance was a blur of motion, the paramedics' precision comforting in the midst of chaos. As Rafael was being secured, Olivia's fingers flew across her phone, the calls to Dodds and Fin swift and came with reassurances that the crime scene would be processed.

Putting her phone back in her pocket, she slipped into the ambulance, the vehicle lurching forward, every second was precious. As the city whirred by, Olivia clasped Rafael's hand, her grip a silent vow of all the words they had yet to speak. Though faith had never been something she turned to before, in the harsh light of the ambulance, she found herself reaching out to the unknown, praying for the lawyer's salvation.

Olivia barely registered what happened at the hospital. Rafael was whisked from the ambulance and immediately taken to surgery. The head nurse directed Olivia to a place where she could wait, giving her assurances that the best surgical team had been prepped as soon as the paramedics called in with updates on the lawyer's condition.

In the sterile expanse of the hospital's waiting room, Olivia sat alone, enveloped in the dim glow of overhead lights, casting long shadows across the cold, linoleum floor. Magazines lay untouched on a nearby table, their cheerful covers jarring against the tension that hung in the air. The constant hum of the air conditioning and the distant, muffled sounds of the hospital did little to distract her from the weight of waiting, time stretching endlessly as the clock ticked on.

Hunched over, elbows digging into her knees, Olivia's fingers absentmindedly twirled Rafael's watch around her wrist—a beacon against the encroaching dread. The past two days had been a whirlwind of emotion, and now, with Rafael's life hanging in the balance, every second felt like an eternity. Their recent admission of love, so new and yet so profound, weighed heavily on her. The future she had begun to imagine, one where Rafael became entwined with her and her son's lives, now teetered on the brink of being snatched away before it could truly begin. She needed him to be alright, needed to tell him that she was all in on whatever journey he wanted to take.

Her vigil was broken by the arrival of Fin and Carisi, their presence a stark reminder of the horrific scene she had left at the courthouse.

Carisi, extending a bag towards her with a gesture of subdued support, broke the silence. "Here you go, Lieu. Brought you a clean shirt, just in case…" His voice trailed off, laden with unspoken empathy.

Peering into the bag, Olivia's gaze flicked up to meet Carisi's, a silent question in her eyes. "How?"

"Amanda swung by your place picked up Noah, and relieved Lucy. He's with her now," Carisi explained, his tone bridging the gap between professional and personal concern. "Saw the crime scene…thought you might need this," he added, nodding towards the bag.

Olivia’s heart sank, a heavy stone of guilt settling in the pit of her stomach as she faced the prospect of forgetting about her son. “Oh my God, Noah,” she gasped, her voice a whisper, “I can’t believe I forgot to make sure he was settled. It completely slipped my mind…”

Fin placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his voice a soft counterpart to her disappointed internal critic. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, striving to alleviate her distress. “You’ve been managing things that would take down the strongest person. Let's take it step by step.”

Drawing a deep breath, Olivia mustered her resolve, meeting Fin’s gaze with a determined nod. Her oldest friend’s support giving her a new wind. “Alright. What’s the latest on the shooting? How are the victims?”

Fin leaned against the stark wall beside Olivia's seat, his expression focussed. “Ernie’s been lucky; the bullet went straight through. Minimal complications expected,” he began, each word measured. “Stabler is fine, they popped his shoulder back in. Both are under guard in the same hospital room — partly for their protection, partly to ensure Stabler doesn’t flee and decide to take matters into his own hands.”

He gestured towards Carisi, who was intently examining something on a tablet. “We’ve got a pretty clear timeline of events. Caught everything on camera.”

Carisi passed the tablet to Olivia, who powered it on, her eyes scanning the screen for answers. Fin pointed to an icon on the screen that directed her towards several video clips. “Look here. Gamble had been lurking in the hallway, biding his time for a chance to confront Elliot alone.”

He paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink in. “From what we’ve pieced together, Gamble was unaware of Ernie’s presence. Could’ve changed everything if he knew.”

With a tap, the first video sprang to life. The grainy footage showed the deserted corridor in the court house, the tension palpable even through the screen, the sound of the silence crackling through the device's speakers. “You’ll notice,” Fin narrated, “Barba exits the room here. There's another video that shows Gamble from his hiding place and he gets distracted by something on his phone, misses when Barba slips back in. The tape here,” he paused the video and points to another clip, “shows you stepping out to make a call. And there’s Gamble, seizing his moment to slip into the holding cells."

Fin's voice low, sympathy tinging his words, "here is the footage from the camera above the entryway of the holding cells. Are you okay to watch it?"

Olivia nodded and directed her eyes to the screen on a scene that threatened to pull her back into her worst nightmare. She tentatively pushed play and the video sprung to life.

"You know that you're not good enough for her," Elliot, his voice laced with a blend of accusation and vitriol, directed towards the ADA.

Barba, now beside the detective, acknowledged with a voice smooth as the aged scotch he preferred, "I know that."

Olivia took in the confused look on Elliot's face, she could tell he wasn't expecting an agreement from the lawyer.

"No man is worthy of her. But that doesn't mean that I'm not willing to spend my life trying to be a fraction of what she deserves." The blaze in Rafael’s eyes signalled his promise and contained an intensity that he usually reserved for his passionate courtroom battles.

A moment stretched between the two men, a silent battle of wills, a display of their unwillingness to back down. This delicate balance was shattered by Gamble's intrusion, his voice slicing through the tension, "Hey Stabler. Wheatley sends his regards."

As if the universe itself had slowed, Olivia's heart clenched with premonition. She knew Barba's next move before it played out on the grainy footage. Gamble's arm, previously hidden, swung into view with a gun in hand. Elliot, encumbered by the chair, was tethered to his inevitable fate. With the grace and strength she didn't know he possessed, Barba lunged, the momentum meant to push Elliot out of danger. The gunshot ringing out striking Barba in the left side of his back as he was trying to twist them out of harms way. The force sent both men crashing into a heap on the floor.

The responding second shot pierced the aftermath, originating from Ernie's unexpected draw. The bullet danced through the air finding his intended target and redirecting Gamble's twisted body into the frame's view. The crooked detective fired back and his bullet ripped through Ernie's arm that was not clasping his gun. Ernie's last round met Gamble with deadly precision, hitting him in the head and sending his body sprawling across the floor.

Olivia halted the playback, her gaze lifting to meet Fin's, her eyes a reservoir emotion from having to witness that actions that had led to the aftermath she walked into. "Did we get anything that shows a clearer view of Gamble. Confirmation that he implicated Wheatley."

Fin nodded, "the last video is the from the camera facing Gamble." He continued, "Dodds filled us in on what was happening…" He allowed a deliberate pause to let the situation settle over the room and he waited for Olivia's acknowledgement before continuing. "Gamble had his burner on him. Everything that we need to tie him to Richard Wheatley is there."

A wave of relief swept through Olivia, her breath escaping in a soft exhalation as if she'd been underwater for far too long. "Thank you, both," she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions. "For your support, and everything you've done over these past couple of days."

The group settled into a silence as heavy as the air before a storm breaks, the men taking seats across from their Lieutenant. Carisi broke the stillness, his question a low rumble. "Any word on Barba's condition?"

Her response was a mere whisper. "Straight to the OR when we arrived..." She glanced at his watch on her wrist to confirm the time. "Four hours ago," she supplied.

Understanding flickered in Carisi's eyes. "Has anyone called his mother?"

The color drained from Olivia's face, the oversight hitting her with the weight of a gavel's blow. "Oh god," she uttered.

Chapter Text

Lucia had a gift, or perhaps a curse, for foretelling the pivotal moments in her family’s fate through her dreams. Each one a harbinger that materialized into reality. As a young woman, she had a dream of pushing a small child, with the emerald eyes of her husband, on the swing in a serene park. Within the week, she had found out she was pregnant with Rafael. Before her mother had died, she had dreamed that the woman's apartment building collapsed with her mother trapped inside. The next day, Catalina was found dead in her home.

This time, it was a harrowing vision that snatched her from sleep, a bleak vision of her son’s funeral. The chill of dread was still clinging to her when the phone shattered the night's silence. The news was as grim as her dream: Rafael had been shot. Upon hearing those words, Lucia knew she had to prepare herself for the worst.

With the clock ticking past 2 a.m., her world narrowed to a single imperative—get to the hospital. Speeding through the slumbering city in a taxi, she reached the antiseptic maze of hospital corridors in under forty minutes. The waiting area was desolate, save for the imposing figure of a man who carried the unmistakable mark of law enforcement, the distinct outline of a service weapon slung across his hip.

"Excuse me," she asked as she approached the figure, "but you wouldn't happen to know a Rafael Barba?"

The man stood up and extended his hand. "I'm Detective Tutuola. You must be Barba's mom." He nodded in the direction of a set of worn, beige doors. "They took your son to recovery. Liv was insistent about needing to see him…she's with Barba now."

The relief Lucia felt was palpable, comforted by the detective's words: Rafael was in recovery, his condition stable at the moment, his survival a testimony to both luck and the precision of the surgeons.

Fin recounted the facts with a blunt delivery that had been honed through years of citing case details: the bullet had dodged Rafael's vital organs by a hair's breadth, but damage was done—a collapsed lung, internal bleeding and blood loss, broken ribs, and now, an induced coma to allow for close monitoring of minor brain swelling and to aid in his healing. It was a litany of injuries that spoke of a long road to recovery.

Lucia's response was instinctual, a mother's touch that sought to convey a depth of gratitude beyond words, took hold of the detective's hands. "Thank you for taking care of my son."

"He's one of us," Fin replied sheepishly, not quite sure how to react to the older woman's affection. He nodded in the direction that Rafael lay in recovery. "They said limited people could go back to his room. I'm sure if you told the nurse you’re his mother, they'd let you back there."

With a nod of thanks, Lucia approached the nurse's station, where an older woman sat, her face etched with lines that told a tale of countless late night shifts. She offered guidance on how to get to Rafael. "Your son is strong," she assured, her voice carrying the authority of experience, providing Lucia with further comfort.

As Lucia approached the room where her son lay, a voice paused her hurried steps. It conveyed strength and a warmth that infused the sterile chill of the ICU with an unexpected comfort. Peering through the door, left slightly open, she saw Olivia Benson sitting vigil by her son's bedside. Her hand clasping Rafael's, a silent promise of unwavering support in his healing journey ahead.

Lucia stood motionless, a quiet observer to this tender watch. The soft cadence of Olivia’s words, meant to soothe Rafael's unconscious struggle, filled the space between the beeps and breaths of the machines. Lucia knew she was intruding but in the gentle rhythm of Olivia's assurances, the older woman discovered a tranquility that ebbed the tide of her swirling fears.

___________________

As Olivia stepped into the sterile, bleak hospital room, the sight of Rafael rendered her breathless. The once tenacious force lay before her, diminished to a shadow of his usual self, enveloped in a tangle of life-sustaining tubes. The stark fluorescent lights cast a pallid glow on Rafael's face, lending it a ghostly pallor that was a shade too light, even though it bore more color than the last time she saw him. His appearance, once vibrant and filled with the fire of life, now lay sullen and gaunt on the white hospital pillow.

Olivia's instinct was to envelop him, to cocoon him from the cruel reality that lingered just beyond the sanitized walls. She had been braced for this moment, forewarned of the extent of his injuries, but the impact of seeing him, bandaged and broken, was something that she couldn't prepare for.

She settled into the chair beside his bed, an uncomfortable seat of garishly colored vinyl and metal. Taking his hand—a hand she remembered for its firm grip and warmth—she held it gently, as though it was a precious, tenuous link to the man's life itself. The nurse had said her voice might tether him to reality, a lifeline thrown across the void of his unconsciousness. She also provided that a lot families found solace in voicing feelings they tried to keep locked away.

So Olivia spoke. Her words a soft prayer in the clinical space. She confessed her fears, her voice threading through the mechanical noises to reach him. Her narrative spilled out, raw and honest, painting the grim portrait of Rafael's brush with mortality on the cold floor of the holding cells. She shared the visceral memory of despair, the helplessness she felt as his life bled out beneath her gaze.

Her anger, too, found a place in the hushed confession. It was an anger born of love, fierce and protective, scolding him for his sacrifice. "Never do that again," she implored. "…he brought that danger upon himself. Promise me, Rafa—when you wake up, promise me you'll never put yourself in harm's way again."

The noises of Rafael's machines drowned out the sounds of the hospital and in the rhythmic beeps, Olivia found the courage to voice truths that would normally be unspoken. Declarations of the depth of her love, raw and personal, words that she would have felt self-conscious about saying, especially so early in their changing relationship. But needed to be said now that she had been faced with the reality of losing him.

She spoke of his relentless spirit, the tenacity that defined him, and his intellect that shone brightly as he navigated the intricacies of the law. She admired the passion with which he fought for those who had trouble being heard, the way his very soul seemed committed to seeking justice.

Olivia then turned to his softer aspects, parts of him that seemed reserved for her—how he had come to love her son, embracing Noah with a fierce and protective affection, a testament to the expansive capacity of his heart. Rafael's tough exterior could not hide the depth of his empathy from her. Olivia spoke of memories and gratitude, painting a picture of a man whose tough shell concealed a heart as vast and deep as the ocean. A heart that had become her beacon, guiding her through the toughest moments in her life.

"Rafa, you have to come back to me. We need to have the talk we've been putting off," she said, her voice a tender plea that held the weight of a thousand unspoken promises. "I don't want to delay any longer. I'm all in, ready for whatever you want." She cradled his hand and brought it to rest against her cheek, the brush of her lips against his skin a silent vow. "I love you, Rafael. More deeply than I can convey with words."

___________________

Lucia lingered in the doorway, her figure framed by the stark hospital lights. The trails of her tears were a depiction of the raw emotions Olivia's confession had stirred within her. Lucia had long harbored hopes of her son finding a love profound enough to rival his passion for the law. Yet, as his years became measured by verdicts and case law, she had resigned herself to the notion that his heart might forever belong to the pursuit of justice.

But here, in the soft glow of the hospital room, Olivia's impassioned words cast a different verdict, one that rekindled Lucia's hopes and mirrored her earlier dream. What she thought was an omen of her son’s demise was actually a window into his hopeful future. The cruel fate that had forced Rafael to face his mortality seemed an unjust arbiter. Lucia's whispered a prayer to the unseen forces and begged for a new judgement, one that would give her son a chance to embrace the love that had been declared at his bedside.

Chapter Text

Lucia lingered by the door, her presence masked by the mechanical sounds emanating from the room. Not wanting to alert Olivia that she was invading her private moment, Lucia counted the minutes—one, two, five—before her knuckles rapped softly against the wood.

Olivia's eyes, rimmed with red, flickered up, and her lips twitched into a semblance of a smile, weak and fleeting. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, the words barely escaping.

"Hush now," Lucia's voice was a gentle command. She peered at her son, who lay motionless, a stark contrast to the larger than life flurry that defined him. In his current state he seemed smaller, younger, and Lucia felt a surge of protectiveness. "How is he doing?"

Exhaling a weary breath, Olivia responded, "He's stable, thank god. It could have been a lot worse. They're going to keep him in a coma until his brain swelling goes down. The doctor is hoping it only takes a few days." Her trembling hand rose to smooth the errant lock of hair on his forehead but halted mid-air, suddenly aware of Lucia's gaze. "He looks better," she added softly, "he has more color than when we first arrived."

A small nod from Lucia carried the weight of a thousand words. "What happened?" She inquired, needing to know how her son got tangled up in a situation that almost cost him his life.

Olivia's eyes filled with tears, her voice faltering as she recounted the day's traumatic events. "We were interrogating a suspect…who had gotten himself entangled with a dangerous man," she paused, collecting the remains of her composure. "I left the room, just for a second. Someone walked in behind me, he had a gun." Her eyelids closed, a dam against the torrent of guilt. "I should have been there to protect him," she murmured.

Lucia placed a gentle hand on Olivia's shoulder, her touch full of comfort and warmth. "He's here, alive, breathing, Olivia. Because of you," she whispered, her voice full of comfort.

Olivia's response was a fractured whisper, a whimper torn from a place deep within. "I froze," she admitted, her gaze locked on Rafael. "Seeing him there, so close to slipping away, it shattered something within me." A second sob shuddered through her, more violent than the first. "He needed me to be strong and I crumbled."

Lucia enveloped Olivia in an embrace filled with a mother's love. "Mija, the last few days have been relentless --your son's abduction, your former partner waltzing back into your life. Be kind to yourself."

Confusion flashed across Olivia's face, her eyes narrowing slightly. “How do you know about that?”

“My Rafi talks about you a lot." A knowing smile washed across Lucia’s face. "Couldn't stop him even if I tried." Her small chuckle filled the space between them. "He has praised your strength and courage. How you stand in the face of darkness almost every day, and yet you're nothing but light."

Olivia's cheeks, previously pale, now bloomed with a soft, rosy flush.

"You make him want to be better. I can tell that your faith in him makes him feel like he can achieve the impossible." Lucia continued, her voice strong with conviction and pride. "I have no doubt that you just being there gave him strength."

Tears, flowing freely, traced paths down Olivia's cheeks. Lucia tenderly wiped them away, her actions as much an offering of comfort as they were an unspoken promise of support.

Regaining a semblance of composure, Olivia spoke, her voice steadier but still laced with emotion. "I won't tell Rafael that you told me all of this," she jested, trying to lighten the mood.

Lucia's laughter, rich and heartfelt, echoed in the room. "Oh, please do share with Rafi. Let him know his mother still possesses the power to embarrass him," she said, leaning in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, "although maybe do it when he's feeling a little better."

Olivia let out a small chuckle, one that was genuine and she felt grateful to the older woman. She rose from her chair, shaking her limbs which felt stiff and heavy from the long day. The sterile glow of the hospital lights seemed to bleach the color from the room, and her eyes were beginning to get tired. She offered her seat to Lucia. "Do you want anything from the cafeteria?" she inquired, her voice betraying a weariness she was trying to keep at bay. "I need to take a bit of a walk. I might grab a coffee."

Lucia waved a dismissive hand. "No need, mija. Don't fuss over me." She paused before adding, "why don't you go home to your boy?"

Olivia's resolve wavered, the thought of Noah stirring an overwhelming need to hold him in her arms. But she couldn't stand the thought of being away from Rafael. "It's too late to pick him up now... and leaving seems..." Her words faltered, and she looked for solace in Rafael's watch, twirling it around her wrist to settle her unease.

Lucia's voice was firm, a command wrapped in concern. "Rafi will be here when you return -- you can come back in the morning." She paused before adding, "he'd never forgive me if I didn't insist on you getting some rest."

Olivia's pause was a testament to the silent battle going on in her head. "I will return in the morning," she conceded, though her heart lingered with the man in the hospital bed. "Please call me if anything changes, or if you need anything at all."

As she navigated the sterile corridors to exit the hospital, Olivia's eyes landed on Fin. He was sitting in the waiting room, in the same spot she had left him in, diligently watching for her.

Her voice carried a note of surprised gratitude. "You're still here?"

His reply cut through formality and was straight to the point. "Figured you might need a friend," he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a sincerity.

Olivia's gaze softened, absorbing the sight of her long-time friend. Fin's appearance bore the evidence of exhaustion from the past 48 hours, his posture slumped, his eyes shadowed with the weight the case, and a Styrofoam cup of coffee steadfast in his hand as he tried to ward off sleep.

Her acknowledgment was a murmur, rich with emotion and warmth. "Thank you Fin... for everything. For managing the crime scene, for staying here… for always being there for me."

He met her thanks with a nod, a subtle acknowledgement of their camaraderie, before his eyes darted towards Rafael's room. "How are they holding up? Barba and his mother?"

"Stable," she replied, her voice carrying the undercurrent concern. "Barba looks a little better than we he first.." she trailed off, not wanting to let her mind go back to the horrific scene she saw in the courthouse. "His mother is resilient… hopeful."

Fin’s voice, usually straightforward and blunt, softened. "And you? How are you holding up?"

Her eyes were glassy and there was a certain tightness around her usually soft features. Her jaw clenched in a battle of emotion, her lips pressed into a thin line of restraint. "I've been better," she managed, the words fraying at the edges.

In a move that captured years of trust into a single gesture, Fin drew her into an embrace, his voice a rumble of defiant optimism. "Barba's a stubborn son of a bitch. He'll be fine."

A chuckle escaped her, a brief interruption of the gravity of the moment, as she found solace in Fin's candid reassurance. "Let's get out of here. We could both use some rest."

With a nod, Fin agreed, and both headed out into the cold night air, their synchronized steps evidence of their years of friendship.

_____________________

Olivia's car rolled to a stop outside her apartment just as the clock neared 4am. She fired off a text to Amanda, 'Will be by around 8:30', and headed into her home to get ready for bed. Once in her pajamas, with mechanical motions she set her alarm. The moment her head hit the pillow, sleep took her, deep and devoid of dreams.

Three hours later, the alarm's insistent blare jarred her into consciousness, the aggressive noise slicing through the silence of her room. Head pounding from exhaustion and last night's tears, she felt hollowed out. The sun's unforgiving light shone on the cold, empty space beside her, a void where just yesterday, Rafael's presence had wrapped her in warmth. She lay there, tears she didn't know she had left carved paths down her cheeks. Rafael's absence felt like a weight on her chest. It had been barely 24 hours since waking in his arms, yet it felt as though a vital part of her had gone missing.

She needed to see her son, so got ready as quickly as she could and headed over to Rollins' place. The moment she swept Noah into her embrace, a shard of her anxiety splintered away.

"Hi sweetheart. Did you have fun with Aunt Amanda and Jesse?" she cooed at her son.

Noah's nod was eager but then his lower lip jutted out. "Aunt Amanda said Uncle Rafa is sick. Can we see him? I got cookies cuz I was sad. Maybe he wants some?"

The question squeezed at Olivia's heart. "Uncle Rafa's resting, sweetie. No cookies for now." Her words were a balance between reassurance and her own swirling emotions. "I'm going to drop you off at school but we might be able to see your Uncle Rafa later." Her fingers traced comforting patterns on his back. "But he's going to be sleeping."

Noah's disappointment was palpable. "Okay," he whispered, resignation heavy in his tiny voice.

She mustered a smile. "School first, then we'll plan a visit."

Amanda's voice cut through the moment. "Will you be at the hospital all day?"

Olivia's nod was automatic. "Yes. I won't be much use in the office. I have to call Dodds so, if he wants to meet, I may be in for a bit."

"Please give us an update on how Barba is doing," Amanda said, her voice threaded with worry.

Gratitude was a lump in Olivia's throat. "Thanks for being there for Noah."

_____________________

Olivia's relief was palpable as she left the bustling schoolyard behind and approached the sterile quiet of the hospital. She dreaded this building but held a grudging respect for the institution that was keeping Rafael alive. Prior to making her way to his room, she made a quick detour, first stopping at the gift shop to arm herself with tidings of cheer – balloons with words of "thank you" and "get well".

Reaching her destination, she lightly tapped on the door and stepped inside. Her gaze flickered to Elliot, who looked at her eagerly, but she swiftly shifted her focus to the friendly face in the bed at the far side of the room. "Ernie," her tone carried a lightness she didn't feel. "My hero." She placed a gentle kiss on the security guard's forehead.

Ernie's discomfort was immediate, a flush creeping over his cheeks. "Hardly a hero, Ms. Benson." His injured arm was swaddled in bandages and there were dark circles under his eyes, but they still held their usual kindness.

"Could have fooled me," Olivia countered as she offered the balloons. They bobbed in the air, a bright contrast to the drab hospital walls. "How's your arm?"

Ernie's reply was wrapped in modesty, "It'll heal. How's Mr. Barba?"

The mention of Rafael tightened Olivia's throat. "You know he'd want you calling him Rafael" she managed, her composure unsteady. "He's fighting. Coma-induced healing."

Regret shadowed Ernie's features. "If only I'd been quicker."

She cut him off, her grasp firm on his good hand. "You did everything. Rafa owes you his life, and so does Elliot. No 'ifs' here."

Elliot cut through the silence, a gentle firmness in his voice. "Arguing with her is pointless," he said, offering Olivia a smile tinged with warmth. "Besides, she's not wrong."

Olivia met Elliot's gaze with a firm expression but her voice carried a soft undertone. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm managing," Elliot replied, his voice lighter than how he felt. A wry twist lifted the corners of his mouth. "But I might as well be handcuffed to the bed..." His eyes drifted toward the hospital room door, "...under the watchful eyes of my appointed babysitters." As his gaze returned to hers, there was a flicker of warmth. "What about you? How are you coping?"

A shadow of a grimace crossed Olivia's features, quickly masked by a nod toward the door. "I've seen better days." Her eyes briefly flitted away, betraying her unease. "I need to get back to Rafa." She headed towards the exit and then locked eyes with Ernie across the room, her smile small but genuine. "Look after yourself, okay?" Her hand rested on the doorframe for a fleeting moment as she offered a parting thought. "That goes for both of you."

Chapter Text

Hovering on the threshold of Rafael's room, Olivia paused, to collect herself. The sterile, antiseptic scent that pervaded the hospital corridors seeped into her senses. Each breath transported her to the agony of uncertainty that had enveloped her the night before and was an unwelcome reminder of the possibility of a future without Rafael.

As she gently pushed the door open, the sight that unfolded tugged at her heartstrings. Lucia remained perched beside her son's bed, a rosary intertwined amongst her fingers. Despite the cloak of exhaustion that enveloped her, Lucia's posture betrayed no sign of surrender, her gaze locked on her son. The hospital room's subdued lighting bathed her in a soft glow, casting light on the evidence of tears dried upon her cheeks and the resolve that clenched her jaw. Olivia's gaze lingered on the mixture of hope and despair dancing in Lucia's eyes, a reflection of the unwavering spirit of a mother. Lucia murmured words laced with love and encouragement, a light against the stark, somber mood of the hospital.

The subtle shift in the room's atmosphere as Olivia entered did not escape Lucia, who lifted her gaze and gave Olivia a nod, an unspoken acknowledgement of their shared ordeal.

"I felt guilty for leaving," Olivia confessed, her voice a whisper, as she drew nearer. "But you were right, Lucia. Stepping away for a few hours... it helped, somewhat." Looking at Rafael, she asked, “How is he doing?"

"Not much has changed," Lucia replied, her nod towards Rafael carrying all of her unspoken worries. "The doctors are planning another scan this afternoon—they'll try to gauge any improvement on the swelling."

"He looks a bit better today," Olivia ventured, more to soothe her own fraying nerves than a statement of fact. Observing the weariness etched deep into Lucia's features, she suggested, "let me take over. You go home and get some rest—I promise I won't leave his side."

The hesitation that flickered across Lucia's face mirrored the reluctance Olivia had battled the previous night.

"Please, Lucia," Olivia pressed gently, her voice a blend of encouragement and reassurance.

With a sigh that spoke volumes, Lucia gave in. "I would be a hypocrite if I didn't go." Her smile, though weary, was filled with warmth and understanding. "Will you call if...?"

"Without a moment's hesitation," Olivia promised.

Wrapping Olivia in a hug that was meant to convey gratitude and strength, Lucia whispered, "I'm glad that Rafi has you."

"He always will," Olivia murmured back, a solemn vow hanging between them.

_____________________

For an hour, Olivia sat beside Rafael's hospital bed, her fingers interlacing with his with a reassuring firmness. Each pulse beneath his skin seemed a touch warmer and gave her heart hope that he would pull through. In the calmness of the room, her voice became a gentle stream, telling him stories of nothing and everything. Promising him that Noah would be later in the day, but she couldn't promise that he wouldn't try to smuggle in cookies.

As the clock ticked over to 10 a.m., Olivia called Dodds to check in and get an update on the case. His unexpected reply — a promise of his imminent arrival — brought a flicker of surprise to her weary features.

Standing in the purgatory of the waiting area, her eyes lifted as Dodds approached.

"Lieutenant Benson," he offered in a tone that married respect with concern. "Fin gave me an update on Barba last night. How is he doing this morning?"

"He's fighting," she replied, the words 'stable' and 'no progress' bouncing around in her brain. "They're going to do a few tests later today."

Dodds gave her a solemn nod. "I have faith that he'll pull through." He gestured towards a few uncomfortable looking chairs in the space. They settled in their seats before he continued. "I know you're not going to like this, but I need you to take time." Before she could protest he clarified, "you have be put through a lot, and you need to step back and process everything."

When Olivia didn't respond, Dodds added, "I'm not talking a lengthy absence but I want you out for at least a week."

"I understand," she finally conceded, the acknowledgment a mixture of gratitude and resignation. "You're right. I keep moving forward but feel like I'm barely hanging on."

"Thank you." His smile was comforting and friendly. "I'm here, always a call away. And I bring news — Wheatley was arrested this morning. We uncovered enough evidence to tie him to the attempt on Stabler's life and Barba's shooting. There were also texts on Gamble's recovered phone to link Wheatley to your son's kidnapping."

A sigh escaped her, a release of tension she hadn't acknowledged. "What happens to Stabler?"

"The charges are being dropped," Dodds revealed, each word measured, hinting at the delicate situation surrounding Elliot's involvement. "He's still under surveillance at the moment. We wanted Wheatley secured before letting that one loose. I spoke to him this morning—he's quite fired up." Dodds paused before continuing. "We'll wait until Wheatley's trail has concluded, but Detective Stabler is out. He gets to keep his pension if he voluntarily retires," the word 'voluntarily' emphasized with air quotes.

"And the trial?" her voice barely above a whisper, seeking assurance it was in good hands knowing that if Rafael were awake, it would be his primary concern.

"McCoy will lead the charge," Dodds affirmed, his final words a gentle attempt to provide her comfort, "you, and your son, will be sheltered from the trail as much as possible."

Olivia nodded. "Thank you for coming with updates and to check on Rafael."

"Of course," Dodds acknowledged, as he got up and started to prepare himself to take leave. "Keep us all up to date on Barba's condition."

Olivia nodded her confirmation and stood to see Dodds out before heading back into Rafael's room.

_____________________

Just after noon, the sterile hum of the hospital was momentarily interrupted by the sound of wheels against linoleum—Rafael, stabilized in his hospital bed, was ushered away by a cadre of nurses taking him to his follow up tests. In his absence, Olivia's fingers danced over the keyboard on her phone, arranging a visit from Lucy and Noah, a much-needed distraction for the unease that had taken settled in her chest.

Her gaze lifted from the glow of her screen when Rafael's form reappeared, shepherded by a man whose presence exuded purpose and nonchalance.

"Family of Mr. Barba?" he inquired, his voice a blend of formality and warmth.

Olivia's response faltered for a second, not knowing how to responded before the following tumbled from her lips, "I'm his fiancé, Olivia Benson." Inwardly she was grimacing at her lie, but relied on years of steeling her expression in interrogations to keep her face impassive.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Benson. I'm Dr. Sebastian Clarke," he introduced himself, his hand extending and grasped Olivia's in a sturdy handshake.

Dr. Clarke was in his late 40s, with a head of salt-and-pepper hair that looked as though he spent the entire morning raking his hands through. His eyes, a sharp blue, were sparkling with confidence behind steel-rimmed glasses. Standing at a comfortable six feet, his posture was a balance of assuredness and a casual lean that suggested a comfort in his environment. His overall demeanor calmed Olivia, and made her feel confident in his ability to piece Rafael back together.

"It's nice to meet you," came Olivia's soft response. "How is Rafa doing?"

"I understand, that in addition to his gunshot wound, Rafael hit his head on a concrete floor, quite hard when he was thrown to the ground." Dr. Clarke's statement, wrapped around a question.

Olivia nodded. "That's correct. He was trying to throw someone out of the bullet's path. I didn't see it happen but saw a recording—it looked like he hit his head quite hard upon landing."

Nodding, Dr. Clarke theorized, "Mr. Barba’s head took a pretty significant hit and it's likely that his neck was at an unusual angle. Upon arrival the ER team checked his eyes and his right pupil wasn't dilating, which is why the MRI was ordered." Dr. Clarke paused to assess Olivia's reaction. "Do you have any question, so far?"

The simplicity of her concern was evident. "No, I'm just anxious to know how he's doing and how long you anticipate he'll be out."

Dr. Clarke nodded. "Given the extent of the injuries he came in with, the coma is to allow his body to heal from all of his injuries. In terms of the length of time, I come bearing some good news." He paused to quickly check his paper, almost like reassuring himself of the results, before continuing. "It looks like the coma is doing what it's intended to do. There's already less pressure in his brain today, so he's healing."

Relief, fervent and profound, swept through Olivia, manifesting in a prayer that was meant to be silent, slipping past her lips.

Dr. Clarke's laughter warmed the bleak room they were in. "His recovery will be long, and we won't know the extent of potential damage until he wakes up, but based on what I'm seeing, I'm hopeful."

Moisture threatened the corners of Olivia's eyes, a result of her body releasing fear that she had been trying to keep bottled up.

"Continue whatever you're doing," Dr. Clarke advised, his tone earnest, his advice heartfelt. "He's a fighter, so keep giving him something to fight for."

As the blush of emotion tinged Olivia's cheeks, she offered a nod, a silent vow to remain Rafael's unwavering support.

_____________________

She texted Lucia an update on Rafael's condition. She was secretly relieved to be met with silence, a sign that Lucia was stealing some much-needed rest. She remained perched by Rafael's side, her posture awkward as she leaned in, her hand a gentle weight on his, seeking the solace of their shared warmth. The stillness of the room was disrupted when the door burst open and Noah bounded in, his voice loudly cutting through the silence. Lucy trailed in behind him.

"Momma!" he exclaimed loudly. "I'm here to see Uncle Rafa!"

"Shh, baby," Olivia's voice was a soft caress, a whisper meant to show Noah the calmness needed in the hospital. "We need to use our inside voices here. We don't want to wake people up who are feeling sick."

Noah's brows furrowed, a thoughtful tilt to his head. "Like Uncle Rafa?" he queried, the connection dawning in his young mind.

"Yes, my love, just like Uncle Rafa," Olivia affirmed, her eyes meeting Noah's gaze. She noticed a crinkled piece of paper gripped in Noah's grasp. "What's that you've got?" she gently prodded.

Noah's response was immediate, his arm shooting up, the drawing held aloft as though that answered his mother's question.

Lucy chimed in. "Noah was a little sad today and when he explained why to Ms. Jackson, she thought drawing for Uncle Rafa might help cheer him up."

A bright declaration cut through, "I drew us playing blocks!" Noah beamed, his excitement an infectious force.

Olivia peered at the paper and was grateful for Noah's commentary. The chaotic dance of colors on the page was a mystery only Noah's explanation could solve.

Lifting Noah on her lap so he had a better view of Rafael, she explained. "Uncle Rafa is still sleeping, but why don't you show him your picture and explain what it is. He might be able to hear you."

Noah's small frame wiggled with anticipation as Olivia lifted him closer to Rafael. His little hand reached out, the drawing shaking slightly with his excitement.

"Look, Uncle Rafa," Noah whispered with an earnestness, "I made all these blocks with all the colors. We can build a super big tower, like this high!" Noah stretched his other hand up as far as he could, trying to show just how grand their block tower could be.

Olivia stroked Noah's hair, her heart aching with love. "That's right, Noah. And you know, some people believe that when you're asleep, you can hear the things people tell you in your dreams."

Noah's eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and wonder. "Uncle Rafa can hear me in his dreams? Like a superhero?"

She nodded, smiling at the innocence of her son. "Exactly, like a superhero. And maybe, hearing your voice and knowing you're waiting to play with him will help him fight to come back to us."

Noah leaned closer, his lips almost touching Rafael's ear. "Uncle Rafa, when you wake up, we're gonna make the biggest block tower ever, okay? I'll save my bestest blocks for you."

Olivia's heart swelled as she witnessed the tender exchange, her smile a reflection of the profound connection her son shared with Rafael.

Noah swiveled towards Lucy, his small hand reaching out earnestly. "Can I give Uncle Rafa the other present now?" His voice held a hopeful note, eyes sparkling with the anticipation of sharing.

Lucy nodded and delved into the depths of the well-worn backpack, her fingers dancing past crayons and snacks to find the treasure that had been carefully packed. With a soft rustle, she presented the plush toy, which Noah received with eager hands.

Noah leaned towards Rafael, his movements tender and cautious. With a gentleness that he usually didn't possess, Noah nestled the stuffed elephant beside Rafael's face. "Here's Babar, Uncle Rafa. He'll look after you until you get better," Noah whispered.

Tears pricked Olivia's eyes as she beheld her son's heartfelt gesture, a poignant reminder of the deep bond that had formed between Noah and Rafael. Each small act of kindness was a testament to the unwavering affection the little boy held for his Uncle Rafa — an affection that Olivia hoped would transcend the silence of the coma, reaching Rafael's dreaming mind, urging him back to the world where love awaited his awakening.

Chapter Text

Lucia approached Rafael’s room, the vibrant fabric bag on her shoulder full of memories, a few cherished items from their home. Among them was a weathered statue of San Lázaro, its surface etched with the passage of time, a guardian that once graced the Barba household's shelves, safeguarding them from illness. This figure had always captivated Rafael as a child, and Lucia clung to a hope that the familiar figure would comfort him now. Also nestled within the bag lay a fuzzy blanket, its fibers intertwined with love and care by Rafael’s abuelita when he was ten. Despite the blanket's gentle wear, Lucia hoped it would serve as a tangible link to his grandmother's protective embrace.

Pausing in the doorway, Lucia caught her breath as she took in the scene before her. To the right of Rafael’s bed perched Olivia’s young son, Noah, absorbed in a picture book of cartoon dinosaurs. His voice, tender and full of awe, narrated tales to Rafael’s still form. The sight tugged at Lucia’s heart, as she took in the boy's unguarded display of affection towards her son.

"Look Uncle Rafa, it's a T-Rex-a-saurus. They have big teeth," the young boy said with earnest fascination, his small finger tracing the dinosaurs' outlines. "Do you have a dino you like bestest?"

Olivia’s soft voice responded to ensure the question didn't go unanswered. "I'm sure he does, sweet boy. You can ask him again when he wakes up."

Lucia, her eyes glistening with tears she held back, spoke gently. "When he was a boy, he adored the triceratops," she said, her voice laced with nostalgia. "He believed the trio of protective horns were like his friends—strong and united."

Olivia’s gaze met Lucia’s, their eyes sharing unspoken fears and hopes. With care, she guided Noah onto the floor. "Noah, this is Uncle Rafa's mother."

"Hi Mrs. Uncle Rafa," Noah greeted, extending his hand with innocent formality. "I'm Noah."

"Hello, Noah. You can call me Lucia," she said as she clasped Noah's hand, her smile warm but tinged with sorrow. "What good manners you have. I see you're very close to my Rafi," she corrected gently, reading the confusion on the boy’s face, "to Uncle Rafa."

Noah's eyes sparkled with affection. "We love Uncle Rafa," he said, looking at Lucia with earnest curiosity. "Did you come to kiss his boo-boos away so he gets better, like my momma does?"

Lucia’s heart swelled as she beheld Noah's hopeful gaze, his belief in the curative power of kisses. "I've brought some treasures that carry our love and might help just as much," she whispered. She reached into the bag, her hands carefully extracting the statue of San Lázaro to place it on the nightstand.

Next, she unfolded the blanket with care, revealing the intricate patterns knitted, each thread a symbol of the love of Rafael's grandmother. With Olivia's help, they draped it over Rafael to comfort him as he slept.

Noah, watching the woman's movements with wide eyes, asked, "Will the blanket make Uncle Rafa all better?"

"Yes, my dear," Lucia answered. "Love has a way of reaching us, even in our deepest sleeps. Love is the strongest medicine. That's why your momma's kisses work so well."

At this, Noah's face brightened with understanding. He tugged on his mother's sleeve, a silent plea to be lifted up. With Olivia’s help, he rose, placing a delicate kiss on Rafael’s forehead. "We love you, Uncle Rafa. Please wake up." His voice was a tender echo in the quiet room. Turning to Lucia, he sought confirmation. "Will that help?"

Lucia nodded, her voice catching in her throat. "Yes, Noah. I believe he felt that, all the way to his heart." She brushed a tear from her cheek, moved by the boy's innocence.

Noah beamed up at Lucia, his smile bright and open. "Do you wanna read my dino book with me?" he asked, his hopeful gaze locked on hers.

Olivia hesitated, "Noah, Lucia probably wants —" But she was interrupted by Lucia's gentle voice.

"I would love nothing more," Lucia said as she lowered herself into the vacant chair. She patted her lap invitingly to Noah. "Come, let’s read. I'd love the chance to get to know one of Uncle Rafa's friends better."

Noah clambered into Lucia’s lap with youthful agility. "Uncle Rafa says I'm one of his fay'rit people," he declared with pride, mangling the word in a way that only a small child could.

Lucia chuckled softly, her heart lightened by the boy’s presence. As she wrapped an arm around him, she gently tapped his nose with her finger, eliciting a bubble of laughter from deep within him. "I can certainly see why," she replied, her heart warming as Noah snuggled in, ready to share his treasured tales of prehistoric creatures.

The trio visited with each other until late into the evening, the hour had Olivia question her decisions as a parent. Needing to get Noah home to bed, the Bensons said their goodbyes with a promise that Lucia would text Olivia if there were any updates.

__________________

The following day, Olivia dropped Noah off at school. With a heavy heart, she made her way to her appointment with Dr. Lindstrom. Settled in plush chairs that sat atop a lush area rug, he guided her through the tangled emotions. She spoke about her helplessness from losing her son, the shock of Elliot's sudden return, and the horror of witnessing Rafael's broken body.

Dr. Lindstrom pondered for a moment before speaking. "It sounds like your relationship with Rafael has shifted."

Olivia confirmed with a nod. "The loss of Noah put everything into perspective—how quickly things we cherish can be snatched away. We realized we couldn't afford to lose any more time…"

Dr. Lindstrom studied her thoughtfully. "Despite all that you've endured, I sense a newfound strength within you. It's as if something has clicked into place. I hope that Rafael gives that to you."

"He's my anchor," Olivia murmured, her voice a whisper betraying her fear, "the shift in our relationship is all so new but the thought of life without him is paralyzing."

Dr. Lindstrom spoke with deliberate gentleness, "The prospect of loss is very real, Olivia, but some things are unforgettable—the love Rafael has for you is woven into who you are. That will remain, no matter where life takes you both." He paused before adding, "and while your revelations seem new, this has been building for years. You've always spoken about him with a fondness that went beyond friendship." He gave her a knowing smile.

The pair sat in silence, Olivia grappling with Dr. Lindstrom's words. She silently hoped against hope that the possibility of losing Rafael was nothing but a fallacy.

After a few moments, Dr. Lindstrom spoke, his voice cutting through the silence. "We talked about the surprise of Elliot's return but didn't delve into your feelings on the matter. Given how close the two of you were before his disappearance, how are you feeling about him now?"

A flush of anger crossed Olivia’s face. "I'm glad he's alright but I'm still so mad at him for invading my privacy."

"That's understandable," he acknowledged. "However, do you ever see a point where you might want a relationship with him again?"

She hesitated. "Definitely not like before." She shifted in her chair, discomfort radiating through her body, "maybe at some point we can be friends but so much has happened with Noah and Rafa. I find it difficult to think that I could ever forgive him."

Dr. Lindstrom nodded. "Whatever you decide, might I strongly recommend that you find the closure you never got 10 years ago." He paused before continuing, "if you want him out of your life, take the time to tell him that and close the door on your friendship."

Olivia's hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles whitening with the force of her grip, her anxiety churning within her.

"It won't be easy," he advised, "but it's necessary for you both to move forward. You left a piece of yourself with him, waiting—it's time to make yourself whole again."

Mid-nod, the shrill beep of her phone cut through the calm. Apologizing, she glanced at the screen – a message from Lucia that read: 'Come to the hospital.'

Her breath caught. "I have to leave now."

Chapter Text

Rafael's eyelids fluttered open, a sharp glare from the overhead lights piercing through. He squinted, allowing the bleached room to swim into view amidst the rhythmic pulse of a heart monitor.

“Mijo?” The word, heavy with tears, reached him faintly.

That voice – it sounded so familiar. Blinking the haze away, his gaze settled on the tear-stained face of a woman sitting beside him. His felt eyebrows raised in confusion as he tried to remember where he had seen her before.

"Take your time, Mr. Barba," a deep voice stated.

He squinted his eyes, trying to block out the harsh light and focus on the figure peering at him.

“Ma...mami?” His voice emerged as a ragged whisper.

"Rafi!" The sound tore from Lucia's lips, a heartbreakingly loud sob.

Extending a stiff arm, he reached to clasp his mother’s hand, driven by an ingrained need to comfort her.

Lucia squeezed his hand back, tears streaming down her cheeks as she bent closer to him. "Rafi, you're awake. Oh, gracias a Dios." Her voice trembled, a mixture of relief and lingering fear.

The beeping became a backdrop to the wave of emotions crashing over him. The room started to come into clearer view, medical equipment surrounding his bed, the sterile smell of antiseptic in the air. He was laying in a hospital, that much was clear.

"How do you feel, Mr. Barba?" The same deep voice asked from the other side of the bed.

Confused and aching, Rafi tried to speak, but his throat felt raw and his mouth didn't want to cooperate. "Water," he managed to choke out.

His mother nodded, pouring a glass and helping him sip it through a straw. The cool liquid was soothing, and he took a moment to gather his strength.

"Better," he got out, although his throat still hurt.

He saw the doctor write something on the clipboard in his hands before asking him, "Mr. Barba, I'm Dr. Clarke. Can you tell me how else you feel?"

He thought for a moment, trying to mentally catalogue each section of his body, but there was a fog hanging over his brain. "Mostly disoriented. A little sore." He flicked his gaze downward to assess himself. There were bandages covering his upper torso, mostly situated on the left side and a tube coming from his chest. The doctor took a small flashlight from his coat pocket and shone it in his eyes. Instructing him to follow the light, Rafael focused his eyes, moving them side to side to keep up with Dr. Clarke's movement. The doctor turned the light off, put it back in his pocket and nodded, seemingly happy with what he saw.

The doctor checked a few of the machines, making note of the readings he saw. The entire time, his mother held his hand, whispering words of 'thanks'. Rafael spent the time moving his mouth around trying to gain control over it.

When the doctor was done, he turned back to Rafael and asked "Do you remember what happened?"

Rafael closed his eyes for a minute, as if that would help him access the memories recessed in his mind. Things were slowly coming back to him. He remembered Noah's abduction and finding him. Elliot Stabler, Ernie…talking at the courthouse. Oh god!

“Liv?” he exclaimed, voice edged with panic.

"Olivia is fine, mijo. I sent a message to let her know that they were waking you—she'll be here soon." Lucia responded, patting his hand. She looked over her shoulder towards the doorway, "Although I forgot to tell her that you moved rooms."

The nurse adjusting the machines jumped in. "The staff in recovery can let your son's fiancé know that he has moved."

He saw his mother's eyebrow raise but she said nothing. Her hand squeezed his tighter for a fraction of a second.

"So, you remember getting shot?" Dr. Clarke probed.

He nodded. "I remember seeing the gun."

Dr. Clarke explained that he had been shot in the back. The bullet had passed through and he'd been very lucky, although he had suffered broken ribs, a collapsed lung, and head injury.

As the doctor was walking through the extent of his injuries, Rafael couldn't help but think about Olivia. He knew that his mother said she was okay, but he needed to see with his own eyes.

"…the tube was to reinflate your lung, we can take the tube out as soon as we're comfortable that you're stable."

He blinked slowly, trying to register the last words he heard Dr. Clarke say. "Oh…okay…that sounds…"

"Rafa!"

His eyes snapped to the doorway and recognized her immediately. "Liv?"

Olivia rushed to his side, her presence immediately filling the room with a sense of calm and safety he hadn't realized he was missing. Her eyes, usually so strong and commanding, now shimmered with unshed tears.

"Hey," she breathed out. She enveloped his hand in both of hers, cradling it as if it were the most precious treasure she'd ever held.

Lucia, observing from a distance, seemed to understand that Olivia's presence would do more good for her son than any medicine could. With a knowing smile, she quietly ushered the doctor and nurse from the room. Their departure went unnoticed by the two who were locked in their own world.

"You scared me," Liv said, her voice a mere whisper. Her voice was wobbly and he could tell she was struggling with her emotions.

Rafael tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. His used his eyes to convey the volumes his voice couldn't.

Liv seemed to understand, as she always did. "I'm safe," she soothed, her thumb caressing the back of his hand in a rhythm that spoke of a bond that had only been strengthened by his brush with death. "Do you want to get some rest? I could leave…"

"No," he rasped out. "Please stay."

"Always," she breathed out. "How are you feeling?" She lifted her hand and gently cupped the side of his face.

"Like shit," he answered. "Disoriented."

"Can I do anything for you?" She offered.

He shook his head. "No. I feel better just having you here."

They sat in comfortable silence, Olivia's roving touch became his anchor, a physical connection grounding them. She clasped his hands, caressed his face, and gently brushing his hair from his forehead.

Breaking the silence, he nervously asked, "Liv, the nurse said something. She called you my fiancé…I don’t remember…"

Olivia's cheeks flushed with a soft pink. "I'm sorry. The doctor... he was giving updates and needed to speak to family. I didn't know what else to do, so I just... reacted."

"Hey," he squeezed her hand gently, a silent assurance. "I never said I was upset about it…"

A timid smile flickered across her face, her eyes reflecting surprise at his response.

He caught that look, the widening of her eyes, and something tender shifted in his chest. "When that moment comes—I want it to be something we both remember."

The warmth from his words seemed to linger in the air, a hope floating amidst the sterile backdrop of the hospital room. Olivia looked taken aback by his omission and he was concerned that he had revealed too much.

His fears were placated when she gave his hand another squeeze, the promise unspoken but as palpable as the heartbeat on the monitor. For a moment, they were no longer in the hospital, they were in a space of their own.

He shifted slightly in his bed and couldn't stop the grimace at the dull ache in his left side. Olivia noticed it immediately, her brow furrowing with concern. "You should rest," she whispered. "You need to heal."

He managed a wry smile. "I promise, I heal better with you here," he insisted, his voice a soft murmur, his hand gripping hers tighter, subconsciously trying to stop her from leaving him.

"What happened to the others…from the courthouse?" he inquired, eager for updates on Ernie but hesitant to mention Stabler directly.

"Ernie's recovering nicely. He managed to neutralize Gamble with a critical shot and suffered a through-and-through wound in his arm, but he'll be out soon," she detailed. "As for Elliot, he dislocated his shoulder but he's okay now—thanks to you. He owes you his life."

"I won't hold my breath for a thank you card," he quipped.

The corners of Olivia’s mouth lifted further. “Good to see your sense of humor’s intact,” she said, her eyes sparkling with affection. She paused, then added, “Wheatley's been arrested. McCoy’s on the case, and the trial's set for two weeks from now.”

His gratitude for the updates was genuine, yet in the grand scheme, these details paled in comparison to his deeper worries — worries that now centred around two of his most favorite people. With this in mind, he shifted the conversation to what truly mattered to him. “And how’s Noah?”

"He's fine. He'll be over the moon that you're awake," she answered. "He visited yesterday and left you this," gesturing towards a drawing by a well-loved stuffed elephant on the side table. "I'll spare you the guesswork—it's a depiction of you two building with blocks."

A warm glow filled him. "What about Babar?"

"Babar's here for cuddles and to look after you, until you get better," she replied, miming quotation marks to echo her son's words.

At that moment, Rafael felt an overwhelming sense of strength, knowing he was cherished so deeply by two of the most important people in his life. Their love cast a shadow on any physical pain he was experiencing.

"Will Noah be by again?" he prompted, suddenly nervous to ask about seeing him.

"As soon as he's home, he'll be begging to see you," she responded, her voice tinged with warmth. "If you promise to rest, I'll bring him by later today."

He started to nod, enthusiasm lighting his eyes, but halted as a sharp pain lanced through his torso, drawing a grimace that quickly replaced the flicker of excitement.

"Be prepared, though," she warned, a playful seriousness entering her tone. "He's going to bombard you with questions—wondering if you could hear him while you slept, or asking about your favorite dinosaur."

"I'd like to think I did hear him, and Velociraptor," he replied, attempting a smile despite the pain.

Her eyebrow arched in surprise, but he pressed on, "I don't remember much from when I was asleep, but I recall a sense of warmth enveloping me. I like to believe it was your presence, Noah...and Mami."

His response seemed to bring a shimmer of tears to her eyes, betraying the turmoil she was trying to keep hidden beneath her composed surface. "And it's no longer the Triceratops?" she managed, her voice a whisper thick with unshed tears.

"It used to be," he admitted, a wistful note creeping into his voice. "But these days, I find myself drawn to the Velociraptor—fierce, loyal, intelligent." He emphasized the meaning behind his words by squeezing her hand.

She chuckled softly, the sound tinged with a mixture of warmth and longing. "I've always had a soft spot for the T-Rex myself—a dominating presence, powerful and virtually unstoppable when they're in their element, shaping the environment around them."

"You shaped me, Liv," his voice carried an intensity that surprised even him. Lowering his tone, he added with heartfelt sincerity, "With you, I've grown—become the man I am meant to be."

His words seemed to hang in the air between them, almost tangible, a testament to the deep connection they shared. They took a moment, soaking in what they'd just said to each other.

But the real world doesn’t pause for long. As Olivia caught his eye, they both knew without words—they would have this conversation again when the time was better.

Then, with a soft smile, she got up. "I need to go pick up Noah now," her voice was gentle but firm. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead, a small promise hanging in that gesture. "I'll be back later with him."

Exiting Rafael's room, Olivia leaned against the hallway wall, inhaling deeply in an attempt to compose herself. Emptiness engulfed her. The last few days had been an emotional rollercoaster and the relief she felt at seeing him left her numb.

"How's your fiancé doing?" A familiar voice broke through her solitude. Olivia turned, her heart skipping a beat, to find Lucia, comfortably seated and knitting in one of the chairs that adorned the waiting area outside Rafael's hospital room.

"Lucia!" Olivia's cheeks flushed with heat. Words stumbled over each other in her haste. "I…we're not…I didn't mean to—"

Lucia's laughter, warm and understanding, cut her off. "Calm down, mija. I was just as surprised when the nurse mentioned it. But sitting here, knitting and thinking… it gave me some perspective. The doctor wouldn't have given an update on his condition to a coworker."

Visible relief washed over Olivia as she nodded, her earlier tension dissolving under Lucia's insightful gaze. "Yes, you're right. It's just been a bit overwhelming."

"Do you need to talk?" Lucia asked, her eyes sparkling with kindness. "I know how emotional this has been for you."

Olivia paused, wrestling with the surge of feelings. "I think I'll be okay," she finally said. "Seeing him awake, relatively fine... it’s overwhelming, in a good way."

Understanding flashed across Lucia’s face. "Well, I'm here if you need me." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, a playful twinkle in her eye. "But let's keep Rafi in the dark that I know he's not engaged—I could use a laugh."

Both women shared in a laugh but the lightness in Lucia's demeanor faded as her gaze grew distant. "Dr. Clarke gave me an update, Rafi’s got a long recovery ahead. He’ll need someone by his side at home." She set her knitting aside and met Olivia's eyes with a serious intensity. "What I was going to suggest is that he come stay with me but I wanted to run that plan by you." A knowing glint in her eyes.

Olivia hesitated, the depth of Lucia's gaze unsettling her. In her short time knowing her, Olivia got the sense that Lucia's insight was often disarmingly accurate. "Lucia, I know that Rafa would love to stay with you," she started, her voice a murmur. "But I think…I'm not ready to let him out of my sight and Noah would love to have him with us."

Lucia's expression softened, a knowing smile curving her lips. "Ah, I thought you might say that." She tilted her head, studying Olivia. "Have they two of you talked about how you feel for each other?"

A blush crept over Olivia's face, her heart skipping a beat at the implied question. "Yes," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "The day he was shot."

"I can't imagine how hard this has been." Lucia’s eyes twinkled with understanding and unspoken approval. "Then it's settled. He'll stay with you. And you’ll have my support, every step of the way."

Relief and a flutter of excitement danced through Olivia's chest. "Thank you, Lucia. For your support, for everything."

Lucia just waved her off, already reaching for her knitting. "Go on now. He’ll be waking up soon, and I bet a certain young gentlemen would love to see his Uncle Rafa."

Olivia nodded, her mind already racing with thoughts of how she was going to integrate Rafael into her life with Noah.

Chapter Text

Rafael's consciousness fluctuated—clear and strong one moment, slipping away the next. Olivia's comforting presence was a tangible thing, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. When she left, the room instantly felt colder, and the throb at his side grew into a stabbing sharp pain.

His mother had sat with him for a bit, but when he had a hard time staying awake, Lucia decided to leave. Rafael needed to rest.

With the earlier buzz of activity having died down, the room was now quiet. The only noises were the beeping of the machinery and the occasional soft whoosh from the device monitoring his breathing.

His thoughts wandered to Olivia. He remembered her touch, cradling his hand softly in hers. The small smile that adorned her face when she saw that he was awake. He yearned to see that smile bigger, to hear her infectious laughter ring throughout his room. Her eyes were tired, heavy from the days of worry, and he hated himself for being the cause.

Rafael wanted to bask in her comfort again and was eager for Olivia to return with Noah. Little Noah, who for some reason held him in high regard. The idea of seeing him, of answering his barrage of innocent questions, brought Rafael comfort.

With warm thoughts of his favorite people swirling around in his head, Rafael drifted back into unconsciousness.

Hours later, the click of his door woke him. Light spilled into the room, casting shadows across the floor. The silhouette in the doorway was recognizable, even as Rafael's mind slowly pieced together who it was. The figure's assertive stance seemed ready for battle.

"Barba," the gruff way in which his name was spit out by the person's mouth was unmistakable.

Rafael squinted against the intrusive light. "Stabler?"

"In the flesh," Elliot Stabler replied as he entered, the door closing gently behind him, returning the room to its dim comfort. "I hear you're a tough guy to kill," Elliot continued, a wry humor in his voice as he took a seat in the chair Lucia had vacated.

A smirk teased Rafael's lips, but he suppressed the grimace that threatened to follow. Stabler sitting where his mother had been was unsettling. "I've been known to be stubborn." He tried to keep his voice light, devoid of the discomfort he felt.

Elliot's chuckle seemed forced, and an uneasy silence stretched between them.

Finally, Elliot shifted uncomfortably and broke the silence. "Look, this is awkward… I just wanted to say thank you. For saving my skin."

Rafael struggled for words, managing only a terse, "Don’t mention it."

The room lapsed back into silence. Rafael thought Elliot might leave, but he stayed, his gaze intense and probing. His steely blue eyes seemed to search for something.

The tension stretched uncomfortably between them until Elliot finally spoke up. "I've been going over it in my mind, trying to figure out your angle—what you have to gain."

"Excuse me?" Rafael could hear the shocked tone in his voice, utterly confused by Stabler's question.

"Was it to get into Liv's good graces?" the older man asked. "Why did you save me?"

He was speechless—absolutely flabbergasted by the detective's question. Rafael wanted to ask if Stabler was actually the one who had suffered a brain injury but didn't want to provoke the man further.

It took him a minute to find words, but he was able to get out, "I didn't think—I just acted."

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "I'm supposed to believe that some lawyer would just throw himself in front of a bullet like that without some underhanded motives?"

Rafael couldn’t help but let a touch of sarcasm lace his tone, despite the ache in his side. "Oh, absolutely," he drawled. "I always schedule my near-death experiences for when I need a popularity boost." He let out a short, pained laugh. "Consider it my unconventional approach to 'pro bono' work. 'Rafael Barba: Attorney and occasional bullet sponge for smartass detectives who have a real knack for pissing people off.' It’s not exactly the career highlight I was aiming for, but I'm sure I can work it into my resume. Does that fit into your narrative of ulterior motives?" His eyes held Stabler's with a challenge, daring him to respond.

The fire previously ignited in Stabler's eyes dimmed slightly, seemingly doused by Rafael's sarcastic response, as though he just clued into the ridiculousness of his questioning.

"She's been worried sick, you know," Elliot stated, his voice laced with an edge that hadn’t been there before.

Rafael's response was cautious, aware of the sudden shift in the room's atmosphere. "I know, and I hate that I'm the cause of it," he admitted.

"Do you?" the detective challenged. "You don't love that Liv is feeling sorry for you right now?"

Rafael was tired and couldn’t keep the exhaustion from his voice. "What do you want from me? You said your 'thank you', I acknowledged it." He let out an exasperated sigh. "Just say what you need to and go."

Elliot's head cocked to the side, and he stared intently at Rafael as if he was studying the man intently. The detective stood from his chair, pulling his shoulders up to full height, arms dangling at his sides in a manner that wasn’t natural. Rafael could tell he was posturing.

When the man spoke, his voice was gruff. "I don’t like you, and I don't think I ever will. Now, I have to admit, saving me threw me a little. I should be giving you more credit than I did previously. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t know exactly who you are."

He paced around the room like a caged animal, the rhythm of his steps matching the pace of the words spitting from his mouth. "I know that you'll use this opportunity to weasel yourself further into Liv's life and have her push me away. Let me make this clear. You are not good enough for her and any tiny scrap of herself that she gives you, know that it's out of pity."

Before he could continue, the door flew open. Olivia stood there, commanding and intense, her alarm quickly shifting to anger.

"Elliot!" Her voice cut through the tension like a knife. "What do you think you're doing?"

Stabler turned, his posture softening, but it was too late.

"Olivia, it’s not—" Elliot started, but Olivia was already moving past him, her focus solely on Rafael.

"Rafa, are you okay?" Olivia’s gaze was a mix of anger and concern as she approached Rafael’s bedside, her hand reaching out to touch his arm gently, searching for answers in his tired eyes.

"Better, now that you're here." The smile he gave was genuine. His mood instantly lifted when she arrived.

"And who might you be, little man?" Elliot's voice asked from his spot near the doorway.

"Momma?" came a timid response.

She turned and saw her son shrinking himself against the door frame away from Elliot.

"Come here, sweetie," she beckoned him over. "Come say hi to Uncle Rafa while Momma talks to her friend." Her arm outstretched, urging her son to come towards the bed.

As soon as Noah saw Rafael sitting up, his eyes opened wide and a grin spread across his face. "Uncle Rafa, you're awake!" the young boy squealed with delight. His small legs scrambled to get to the hospital bed.

Rafael greeted him with all the warmth he could muster. "Mi chiquito! How are you?"

Watching the exchange, Olivia's expression softened, but as soon as Noah was occupied, her gaze turned icy toward Elliot.

"You. Outside. Now," she ordered, the force in her voice leaving no room for argument.

Exiting the room, Noah’s intended whisper was anything but subtle. “Who is that man, Uncle Rafa? I don’t like him.”

Olivia didn’t miss Elliot’s involuntary reaction, a slight wince, caught from the periphery.

When the door clicked shut behind them, Olivia confronted Elliot, her voice laced with barely contained fury. “What the hell was that about?”

Elliot’s response came softly, seemingly an attempt to calm her. “Liv…”

“I mean it, Elliot,” she pressed on with equal gravity. “He barely just woke up, and he doesn't need any added stress right now. Were you just lurking outside his room, waiting to corner him when he was alone?”

Elliot's silence hung heavily in the air, charged with unsaid words. Olivia's anger, simmering, threatened to boil over.

"I came to thank him," Elliot said, his voice firm, trying to convince both Olivia and himself.

"That's not the scene I walked in on," Olivia shot back, her tone sharp and skeptical.

Elliot's features crumbled into a mix of frustration and concern. "I did thank him... but Liv, I can't stand the guy. I don’t think he's good enough for you," he confessed, his eyes earnest and troubled. "Whenever I think about whatever thing you two have... I don't know... I don't trust him."

"Perhaps you should save your judgment and start looking in the mirror," she snapped, her patience wearing thin.

Elliot bristled. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're not one to talk, considering your recent... entanglements," Olivia retorted, with a pointed edge to her words. "You know, the one that put you in the crossfire of a dangerous man."

His retort was quick and sharp. "And how is that any of your business?"

That was the last straw. Olivia's laughter was harsh, a release valve for her escalating rage. "Can you hear yourself? The hypocrisy?" She stepped closer, her gaze fierce and unyielding. "You made it my business the moment my son got dragged into your fucking mess. Remember that?"

Elliot's complexion drained of color, his usual composure wilting under her intense scrutiny.

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a steely whisper. "For the record, Rafael and I don't have a 'thing'… he's my everything." Olivia didn’t want to share her personal life with Elliot but she needed him to accept what Rafael meant to her and her son. “What I feel for him…I've never felt before.” She paused before adding, “he’s my partner in every sense of the word, and my son adores him.”

Without waiting for Elliot to respond, Olivia turned on her heel, her steps purposeful as she headed back to Rafael's room. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, she glanced back over her shoulder with a look that was both a farewell and a boundary drawn. "It was nice to see you, Elliot, glad we had a chance to catch up. But stay the hell away from me and my family."

Olivia’s shadow fell across the hospital floor as she stepped inside Rafael's room, the tenderness of the moment folding around her like a warm embrace.

Noah was perched on Rafael's bed, both boys looking at a piece of paper the lawyer held out in front of them.

"And that's you," Noah beamed, his finger tracing the crayon lines he'd poured his heart into. "I told my teacher you could hear people in your sleep."

"Is that your momma?" Rafael asked, pointing to the other stick figure on the page.

"Yes," the boy answered enthusiastically. "She's saying she wishes you would wake up and come home."

"That sounds like a great idea," Olivia piped up, letting her presence be known. Two sets of eyes raised and locked onto her. "Noah, how would you like it if Uncle Rafa came and stayed with us for a little while?"

"Can he share my room?" Noah asked, hopeful.

Olivia chuckled softly. "We’ll see, sweetie. Uncle Rafa might need a bigger space so he gets enough rest to heal faster."

Rafael watched them, mother and son, his heart swelling, but he couldn't help the wave of guilt that washed over him. "No, Liv. I couldn't inconvenience you like that. I can stay with Mami…"

"If you think I'm letting you out of my sight, you have another thing coming," Olivia responded, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

"Momma said you're a hero," Noah interrupted, his voice an earnest whisper. "Are you a hero, Uncle Rafa?"

Rafael didn’t feel like a hero; he felt battered and bruised and all too human. But as he looked into Noah's wide, admiring eyes, he understood that heroism was about surviving and being there for the people who needed you.

So, he mustered a smile and replied with the only truth that mattered in that moment, "For you and your mom, Noah, I'll always be a hero."

"Well, that settles it," Olivia chimed in, tears shining in her eyes. "The Bensons are going to have a hero come live with them."

Noah's delighted cheer was the affirmation they needed; Rafael's place was with them, and their smiles said it all.

Chapter Text

Ten days had trickled by since Rafael's eyes first fluttered open, each moment with him precious to Olivia. Taking the advice of Dodds and Dr. Lindstrom, she also took some time to process her feelings. Spending some much needed time with Noah, pulling him out of school for the first couple of days. Olivia was slowly coming around to the idea that her son was really safe.

Evenings were a sacred ritual at the hospital, with Noah's animated chatter narrating the day's events for Rafael, who listened with a growing smile, despite the pain and mental fog that lingered.

Improvement was evident; Rafael's grimaces softened, his moments of confusion grew fewer, and his laughter came easier. The doctors, confident in his recovery trajectory, had scheduled his discharge.

Olivia was uncertain on how to approach the sleeping arrangements, nervously bringing it up the day before Rafael's proposed release.

"I bet you're looking forward to getting out of that hospital bed?" Olivia jested.

Rafael paused, a thoughtful look crossing his features. "I don't know," he confessed, "it's had it's perks, mainly your comforting presence every day."

Her gaze fell away momentarily. "It’s not like I've been there all day," she murmured. "You might find a full day with me a bit much."

His reply came with a warm certainty. "Highly unlikely," he assured her.

She fumbled with her next words, voicing a concern masked in practicality. "And sleeping... I assumed you'd prefer the quiet, not someone constantly by your side."

He used her name, a gentle command for her focus. "Liv," his voice softened, "if I have the privilege of sharing your bed, I’d be the luckiest man alive."

Her hesitation was visible, but she nodded, "If that’s what you want..."

Rafael's response was a soft, genuine smile. "Liv, I'm looking forward to spending even more time with you—both you and Noah."

A warmth spread through Olivia as she took in his words. "Noah's over the moon with plans for you," she said with a smile that reached her eyes. "He's mapped out every day with adventures with you." Her smile turned into a soft chuckle. "I keep telling him you need your rest, that healing is your priority right now, but he's quite the optimist about your recovery—stubbornly so." She intertwined her fingers with Rafael's. "In his eyes, you're more than just strong—you're a superhero. And honestly? I think he's onto something."

"I don't know how I got so lucky," Rafael murmured, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

A tender laugh escaped Olivia, softening her words. "Lucky? With that glamorous array of IV lines? Only you could see the bright side of this, Rafa." Her gentle tease was a contrast to the concern in her eyes.

"I mean every word, Liv," he said with quiet intensity. "You and Noah, you've become the dream I didn't know I had." His grip on her hand tightened, a gentle but firm reminder of their strength together. "I never saw a family in my future, couldn't even imagine craving that kind of connection. It was like I was waiting for a sign, a spark to ignite something I couldn’t define. And now, it's clear—I wasn't just waiting. I was waiting for you, for the both of you. You've become the piece of my life I didn't know was missing."

Her eyes welled up, but Olivia fought back the tears, offering Rafael a watery grin instead. "Well, we're all in if you want us, for all the family dinners, soccer games, and even the flu seasons."

Rafael's chuckle was weak but heartfelt. "Sounds perfect. We still need to have that talk…"

Olivia shifted slightly, pulling a chair closer to his bed. "We'll take it slow," she said, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "Starting with home. Noah has agreed to a 'welcome home' sign instead of a parade. For now."

The corners of Rafael's mouth quirked up. "He's compromising, huh? Must be growing up."

"I'm sure it's part of his plan to be grown up 'just like Uncle Rafa'," Olivia replied, her voice laced with pride and fondness. "He admires you more than you know."

In an attempt to hide his sudden rush of emotion, Rafael looked down at their intertwined hands. He traced the outline of the watch encircling her wrist, his movement deliberate. "This has become a fixture on your arm lately."

Her glance fluttered down to where his fingers grazed her skin, Olivia's voice held a hint of vulnerability. "It feels like you're close, even when you're not." She shrugged lightly, a movement betraying the depth of her emotions.

His voice dropped to a husky murmur. "Seeing you wear my watch, carrying a part of me with you—I can't tell you what it does to me."

Olivia caught the intense, heated look in his eyes, full of unspoken feelings, and it made her want to fall into the inferno with him. But she knew now wasn't the time—he needed to get better. Her fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, her touch gentle against his skin. "We can talk about all that later. You need to focus on getting better."

Rafael nodded, his eyes tracing the contours of her face, as if committing every detail to memory. "I plan to," he said firmly. "And when I'm back on my feet, you and I are going to have a proper celebration."

She smiled, though the concern never quite left her eyes. "I'll hold you to that."

"I also still plan on replacing this watch for something a little less temporary," he said, capturing her left hand with his. His thumb traced the length of her ring finger in a tender caress. "Perhaps something permanent that fits here," he murmured, the question in his voice wrapped in a layer of hope.

Conflicting emotions danced behind Olivia's eyes. Her heart surged, aching to leap at his suggestion, but her mind whispered it was too soon to consider. Torn, she chose a middle path — lifting his hand to her lips, she placed a soft affirming kiss upon his knuckles, her gesture saying words her mouth wouldn't allow her to speak.

They settled into a comfortable silence, conversing through shared glances, until Olivia leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, you come home." She squeezed his hand one last time before heading to the door, looking back to see Rafael's eyes already closing, a contented smile on his face.

_____________________

The atmosphere in the bullpen was laden with the kind of restlessness that only a Wednesday could bring. Amanda’s entrance was less a walk, more a march, her displeasure practically tangible. She made a beeline for Fin, who was in mid-conversation with Olivia at his desk.

“Never repeat this to him, but I miss Barba,” Amanda said, a wistful edge to her voice.

Fin’s laughter broke the tension momentarily. “So, the new guy's no good?”

“He’s a walking, talking resume,” Amanda muttered. “You’d think we were at his orientation day, not in the middle of an investigation.”

Olivia’s expression softened in empathy as she watched Amanda’s frustration. “I appreciate you handling him,” she offered, her words trailing into silence.

The squad didn't need Olivia to speak the words to know that she was struggling with the idea of returning to the court house without Barba. Too many painful memories of seeing his limp, bloodied body on the unforgiving concrete of the holding cell floor.

Amanda shrugged, a semblance of a smile on her face. “It’s a welcome break from the paperwork.”

It was Olivia's third official day back at work, starting with half days in the office to allow herself time to adjust. She also had Rafael at home and wanted to be around to help him as he healed. She hadn't told her squad yet about the ADA's living arrangements but figured she'd have to get around to that soon.

With Rafael's recovery expected to span at least two months, his temporary stand-in, Ethan Sullivan, had some sizable shoes to fill. Sullivan was new to the Manhattan District Attorney's office, having come from Queens where his focus was tackling white collar crime.

"How did it go with the case? Sullivan seem content?" Olivia’s inquiry was casual, but she was keen on wanting to avoid having to follow up with the new lawyer.

Collapsing dramatically into her chair Amanda sighed. “The guy’s got brains, but he’s swimming in the deep end here. His instincts are just the wrong approach for Special Victims….but we got there in the end. He has what he needs."

Olivia nodded, her pride in her team apparent. “You’ve all been incredible. I’m grateful for the team's support through all of this."

"We got your back," Fin piped up. "Speaking of which…" he trailed off, not quite knowing how to broach the subject. Taking a pause before continuing, "Stabler's been sniffing around—came in a few times, asking questions about your personal life. He was here yesterday afternoon."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "He showed up to Barba's hospital room and laid into him. I told Elliot to stay the hell away from all of us."

"About time! That boy was overdue for a swift kick in the ass," Fin said, the corners of his mouth ticking up in a momentary smirk before his brow furrowed in concern. "He's circling, Liv. Like a shark scenting blood, hoping to catch you unsuspecting at work."

Her sigh filled the room, carrying with it a fatigue deeper than physical.

Fin leaned in, his voice low. “You might want to bring this up with Bell. If Stabler’s antics escalate…”

Olivia’s resolve solidified at the mention of Bell. “I’ll handle it,” she assured him, the determined set of her jaw leaving no room for argument.

Fin's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Just so you know, the offer is still on the table—no trace left behind."

Their laughter was interrupted as Carisi sauntered in, his frazzled appearance a stark contrast to the easy, light mood he walked in on.

Amanda glanced at her watch, a playful tone in her voice. "Seems someone's clock started late today."

Carisi, with a victorious raise of a donut box, proclaimed, "Diplomacy through sugar."

Amanda's laugh was warm as she replied, "Take your sweet time, then—no pun intended." A sly smile on her face, she glanced toward Olivia and caught the Lieutenant's amused expression.

The box landed on Fin's desk with a thud, Carisi's enthusiasm undimmed. "Okay but get this. I stopped off to visit Barba this morning—only when I get there, the nurse tells me he's been discharged….picked up by his fiancé."

Amanda loud response was a mix of astonishment and amusement, "Wait, what? Barba’s engaged? I didn't even know he was dating someone."

Carisi grinned. "Judging by the nurse’s longing sighs over 'a certain handsome gentleman', I think she hoped the fiancé might've been her."

Olivia's face flushed, and from the corner of her eye, she caught the quick glance from her long-time friend. His eyes, sharp with concern and curiosity, sought hers. Fin's voice was gentle but probing. "Liv, you've been spending a lot of time with Barba. Anything you want to tell us?"

Olivia took a deep breath, steadying herself for the half-truth she was about to share. "I was at the hospital a lot, and... they needed a family member for updates. I might have let them believe Barba and I were more than friends."

Fin's look softened, understanding dawning on his features. "And the fiancé story?"

"Just a little white lie to keep them talking," Olivia admitted. The room was silent, her team digesting Olivia's explanation.

Carisi’s laughter cut through the tension. "Just give us the registry details when you're ready," he joked.

Amanda chimed in with a playful groan, "And let's make it a group gift, I'm hopeless at this stuff."

Fin gave a mock scold. "Don't you jokers have work to do?"

Olivia pushed back from the break room table, using Fin's mention of work as a rationale for making an escape. "I've got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me," she sighed.

As she walked into her office, the laughter and chatter from her team fading behind the closed door, she allowed herself a moment to feel the weight of the solitude.

She had just started sifting through case files when there was a gentle knock on her door. Before she could invite them in, Fin strolled into the room, his expression a canvas of casual curiosity.

"So, Barba's staying with you, huh?" he asked, leaning casually against the door frame.

Olivia didn't bother feigning surprise; Fin always had a way of uncovering things left unsaid. "Yeah, he is," she admitted, looking up at him. "He needs help and I need him near me."

Fin’s nod conveyed his unspoken support. "No explanations necessary."

Her smile was one of gratitude, a silent thank you for his understanding.

Fin continued, "I'm happy to see that you're taking the time to focus on your personal life." He chuckled. "I was surprised that Dodds' convinced you to take the week."

Olivia gave a small shrug. "Dealing with the reality of losing the two people who mean the most to me in the world, really puts things in perspective."

He smiled. "I'm happy for you, and am here for anything you need." He added, "just say the word if Barba becomes too much of a diva at home."

Her laugh, genuine and warm, filled the room. "Noted, but I think we’ll manage."

"I'll leave you to it then. Those boys of yours are waiting," Fin said, stepping out of her office.

Alone now, Olivia got back to work on the cases. Her thoughts were split between work and home. She found herself thinking about the nights to come—the healing ahead, the talks she and Rafael needed to have. She shut the case file, giving herself a minute to look forward to the warmth of home. Feeling motivated, she packed her things and headed out, ready for the evening's promise of time with her family.

Chapter Text

Olivia stepped into her apartment, her gaze instinctively flickering to the spot where her keys usually clinked down in welcome. Tonight, she laid them down silently, the stillness of the apartment swallowing the sound. Darkness washed over the familiar space. She paused, on the verge of calling out for Rafael, but reconsidered, not wanting to wake him if he was sleeping. Tiptoeing, she followed a faint, uneven breath that beckoned her towards the living room.

There, Rafael was hunched on the couch, his posture awkward and deliberate, trying to not further aggravate his aching ribs. His hands masked his face, yet they couldn't muffle the quiet, ragged breaths that disrupted the quiet—a sound far too heavy for just air passing through lips.

He was crying. Her heart twinged, heavy with empathy, as she observed his struggle.

She whispered his name, "Rafa," her voice full of worry, "what's wrong?"

His hands furiously wiped at his eyes, trying to erase any hint of vulnerability. His gaze met hers, a flicker of a smile trying to feign normalcy. "It's nothing," his voice barely steady. "How was your morning?"

She slid onto the couch, hoping her presence would provide comfort. "Rafa, don't shut me out, don't minimize your pain," she urged gently, voice tender, hoping to reach through his armour to his guarded heart, "talk to me. I'm here for you."

He offered a hollow chuckle, a thin veil over his frustration. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Rafael," she softly admonished, her tone warm yet firm.

"It's just... today felt like an uphill battle," he conceded. "Everything took effort—moving, breathing," he confessed, "Jack checked in and I asked if I could look at Wheatley's case file." He gestured towards his laptop on the coffee table. "I tried, but the words just danced around, nothing stuck," his voice dwindled, betraying his fatigue..

Olivia’s hand found his, giving a comforting squeeze. “Listen, you just woke up a week ago, getting shot isn't a small thing. It’s going to take time to bounce back into the swing of things. You’re doing great, okay? You’ll get the hang of it again,” she reassured him, thumb rubbing small circles on the back of his hand.

He exhaled deeply, a burdened breath carrying the weight of his anxieties. "But it's possible that my brain will never fully heal. I'm scared," he added softly. "I don't know who I am without my brain."

“Rafa, I know who you are. Sure, you're smart, but there's also genuine warmth, a sense of humor, and you’re one of the most generous hearts I've ever known. You're also stubbornly determined," Olivia reminded him, her smile gentle yet certain. "It won’t be long before you’re back at work, exasperating me and the squad in your charmingly familiar way."

"I'm exasperating, am I?" His grin was tentative but genuine.

“Absolutely, the most frustrating ADA to ever grace our precinct,” she teased, her words light and playful.

His gaze took on a mock severity. "Really? I'm that much of a pain?"

"Yeah, it's a bit of an enigma—you manage to be annoying and charming all at once," she said with a half-smile. "Sometimes I can't decide if I should punch you or kiss you to shut you up."

At that, his eyes lit up with amusement.

"Most times," she admitted, "I lean towards the kiss."

“Well, I’ve always been a fan of diplomacy and compromise,” he quipped, thumb grazing her cheek in a feather light caress.

As they inched closer, the air between them thickened with expectation. When their lips finally met, it was both delicate and full of assurances. His soft mouth parting slightly, his tongue slipping inside of hers. The rich taste of coffee lingered as their kiss deepened, and Olivia felt a wave of affection, savoring the moment, the flavor—everything.

"Mm," she hummed as she pulled away. "Do you always taste like coffee?"

He seemed momentarily unsure. "Is that bad?"

"Not at all," she said quickly, her words warm and reassuring. "I love that about you—I love you."

His eyes grew soft and he caressed her cheek again. "I love you too, Liv. So much."

Olivia drew a deep, steadying breath, trying to rein in the fluttering of her heart. "You know, Rafa, this thing we have—us—it's more than just the good times. It's all of this. The laughter and the pain," she said with a fondness in her eyes. "It's sharing everything—knowing each other."

Rafael's smile returned, warmer now, more certain. "Like the way you know exactly how I take my coffee?" he joked, a twinkle of his old self shining through.

Olivia chuckled, the sound echoing in the room. "Only because you're a creature of habit, Rafael Barba. And because all I have to do is kiss you to remind myself," she quipped back.

Rafael placed a quick kiss on her lips before looping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. He leaned them both back to nestle into the couch. The movement hurt his tender ribs and although he thought he did a good job masking his wince, Olivia adjusted her body automatically to make their position more comfortable for him.

They sank into the silence, just basking in each other's warmth. It wasn't lost on either of them that they were really close to never being able to do this.

Turning the conversation to something more grounded, Olivia asked if Jack had any other updates on Wheatley's case. Rafael shared the latest, noting Crowder's step back to not get tied to the kidnapping charges and Rita's blunt refusal to take the case, his tone light as he mentioned her fiery spirit.

"Apparently she likes me enough to not defend the man who got me shot," he mused.

"I always knew that I liked her," Olivia reflected.

Rafael’s laughter broke the seriousness of their conversation as he speculated about Buchanan taking on the case, prompting Olivia's frank reveal of her dislike of the defense attorney.

"Let's grab a nap before Noah's back, get some rest," Olivia suggested, already feeling Rafael's comforting weight around her.

"Can I still hold you?" he asked, a hopeful note in his voice.

Without a moment's pause, Olivia assured him, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

_____________________

Fin sat alone at his desk, writing updates on his computer to his latest file. Rollins and Carisi had gone out to investigate a potential case, and the silence that stretched across the space was a testament to their absence.

The steady rhythm of his keystrokes was suddenly punctuated by the approaching echo of determined footsteps. Fin, assuming it signaled his colleagues return, didn't bother to look up. "That was quick. Case a bust?"

"I don't know," a familiar voice responded, "depends on how much information you give me."

Fin didn't need to look up to know who had just walked into the precinct but his eyes snapped up in the direction of the voice—Elliot Stabler.

The air between them was charged as Fin faced Elliot, his posture rigid against the intrusion. "Thought I made it clear yesterday—you should stay the hell away from here."

"Yeah, well, I thought I asked you about Olivia and what you know about that Barba character," Elliot snapped back. He was standing beside Fin's desk, uncomfortably close and shoulders pushed back in a sign of defiance.

Fin stood, eliminating the height difference, his voice firm. "Well, what I do know is that Liv and Barba are none of your business. Do you have amnesia or something? Forget that Barba saved your life? You should be thanking him and not doing whatever this is."

Ignoring him, Elliot continued. "Swung by the hospital, seems like the pencil pusher was released. Only he's not at his home. Staying with Liv by any chance?" The contempt dripping from his voice.

Fin’s retort was sharp, "Listen to yourself. She wants nothing to do with you. You're way out of line—what you're doing now sounds a lot like stalking."

Elliot fired back, a glimmer of desperation in his tone as his voice raised. "She's being manipulated. Liv wouldn’t just turn her back on me."

"Enough," Fin snapped. "Stay away from her."

In response, Elliot's hand shot out, clamping onto Fin's shirt collar. With a jarring force, he backed him up and shoved him hard against the wall. The impact echoed in the confined space.

"You've got no right to keep me away from her," Elliot barked, his words simmering with a rage barely held in check. "So just tell me what I want to know and stay the fuck out of my way."

"That's enough, Detective Stabler!" The sharp command cut through the tension, reverberating off the squad-room walls.

In unison, Fin and Elliot snapped their heads toward the authoritative voice. Their focus honing in on Carisi, standing in the doorway with his weapon drawn, a hard glint in his eyes fixed on Elliot. Amanda stood silently by his side, her own gun held steadily in front of her.

"Step back from Detective Tutuola," Carisi's voice was steady, every syllable laced with his command.

Anger blazed in Elliot's eyes, bright and raw. “How dare you point your gun at me. Who the hell do you think you are?”

Carisi's stance was firm, matching the seriousness in his eyes. "I'm the detective standing between you and an assault charge. Stand down and exit, or I'll put you in cuffs."

Elliot's eyes narrowed, as if he was gearing up for a fight but after a few beats, his grip on Fin loosened and he backed off.

"Whatever man, I don't need this," Elliot growled, his voice rough. As he stormed off, his shoulder clipped Carisi in a move meant to channel the man's simmering aggression—Carisi took it without faltering.

Once he cleared the precinct, Carisi and Rollins holstered their weapons and moved to check on Fin.

"What the hell just happened?" Amanda's voice cut through the tension, her eyes wide, reflecting the shared confusion.

Carisi, seeking some sense of normalcy, questioned if this was typical behavior.

Fin's gaze anchored to the doorway where Elliot had disappeared, shook his head. “No, that's not like him. Something’s off,” he said, concern etched into his features.

“No shit,” Amanda exclaimed. "He really takes the 'stable' out of Stabler."

Fin, turning back to his colleagues with gratitude, acknowledged Carisi’s support, “Thanks for having my back.”

“No problem,” Carisi replied, his modesty in sharp contrast to the assertiveness he’d just shown.

Amanda chimed in. "There's something about Carisi in command mode that definitely has its appeal," she said, her tone teasing, lightening the heavy atmosphere. She winked at the Italian man.

Carisi, cheeks flushed with a rosy tint of embarrassment. He shuffled uneasily on his feet. "Um, should we check in with Lieu?" he redirected hoping for a swift subject change.

Fin dismissively waved off the suggestion. "Nah, I'm going straight to Dodds."

Chapter Text

The door lurched open with urgency, slamming against the wall with a force that rattled the silence of the dim apartment. The sound rippling through the air exacerbated the relentless ache behind his eyes.

He moved as though he was underwater, his limbs heavy and uncooperative, each step towards the tattered, forgiving couch was a struggle. His shaking fingers pressed against his temples in a futile attempt to quell the throbbing pulse within. His body was sore, his injury a pinpoint pulsing with a deep ache.

Through his pain, his hands shook—a tremor he could not get under control. With labored breaths, he tried to steady his racing thoughts, to find clarity amidst the chaos. He felt out of control, like some impending doom was moments from his doorstep and he was powerless to stop it.

The world spun slightly off-kilter as he leaned forward. His hand closed around the container of prescription painkillers given to him at the hospital. The cap gave way with a soft pop. He tossed back the medication, chasing it with the remnants in a water bottle he had thrown on the table the night before.

He clamped his eyes shut to block out the apartment as he waited for the medication to transform the pain into numbness. Time crawled, and with it, the iron vice around his skull lessened leaving behind only a dull throb.

Eventually, he hoisted himself from the comfort of the couch, his body protesting the movement as he trudged toward the desk that held his computer. Fingers, now steady with purpose, danced across the keyboard, entering the name 'Rafael Barba' into the search box. A list of information and articles sprung up before his eyes.

Elliot liked to think his investigation skills had been sharpened by his years with the NYPD, so he trusted his gut when it screamed at him that something about Barba wasn't right. He was determined to unearth the truth before it was too late for Olivia and her son.

_____________________

Across the city, the door to the Benson's apartment burst open with the whirlwind that was Noah. A tired-looking Lucy trailed diligently behind.

"Uncle Rafa, are you still here?" he inquired with unchecked delight, his words bouncing through the hushed apartment.

"Shh," Lucy chided gently, a finger to her lips. "The lights are out, your momma and Uncle Rafa might still be having their nap." Olivia had texted her earlier asking if she could occupy Noah a bit longer, explaining Rafael was exhausted.

"That's silly Lucy," Noah's bright giggle lit up the room. "Grown ups don't have naps."

As if on cue, Olivia emerged from the shadowed doorway of her bedroom, her eyes clouded with the remnants of sleep. She moved to meet them in the living room, noting Lucy's expression of remorse. "Hush now, my love," she said, her voice a tender murmur. "Uncle Rafa is resting right now."

Noah's face crumpled into a pout. "But momma, I haven't seen him all day and I really wanted to play blocks with him." His attempted whisper, while entirely unsuccessful, was still appreciated.

Olivia descended to one knee, her eyes lining up with his. "I know sweetie," she consoled, "but Uncle Rafa needs rest to build his strength. I know he wants to play with you just as much you do with him. When he's better, I bet he'll want to build the tallest block tower with you." Gathering Noah in her arms, she gave him a comforting squeeze.

As Olivia was straightening herself, a soft rustling came from the back of the apartment and Rafael appeared in the threshold of the darkened bedroom. A knowing smile playing on his lips, a telltale sign he had overheard Noah's poorly whispered wishes. Rafael's eyes were ringed with darkened circles that betrayed his weariness, but there was still a spark of fondness as he observed the domestic scene before him.

"My noble knight," he addressed Noah, his voice soft, yet vibrant, as he padded his way into the living room. "It appears a quest awaits us, one of dragons and noble deeds but first we have to build the castle."

Noah's face bloomed into an infectious smile, his earlier disappointment forgotten. "You remembered! Can we build the tallest castle ever, Uncle Rafa?" he asked, his words loud with his excitement. With childlike abandon, he surged forward, arms flung wide as if to encompass Rafael.

Olivia's voice, usually so gentle, echoed firmly across the space, halting Noah mid-dash. "Noah!"

"I'm sorry momma," he whispered, his spirits deflating under the weight of her unexpected sternness.

"It's okay sweetie," Olivia soothed, her tone soft. "You just need to remember to be careful. Uncle Rafa is still very sore."

Rafael's gaze melted at the tremble of Noah's lower lip. "It's okay, mijo, I can give out hugs if we’re careful," he beckoned with a warm smile, slowly easing himself downward with arms open wide, an offer of solace. "See, this I can do," he explained, gently pulling Noah into him, feeling the boy nestle further into his chest.

Amidst the embrace, Rafael felt a strong wave of affection wash over him. Flashes of forever danced behind his eyes and he swallowed hard to keep those words from bubbling up. To help quell his rising emotions he sought out Olivia's gaze, something that always calmed him even during the fiercest internal storms. Only instead of calming him, he found her eyes locked on him and Noah, looking overwhelmed. Unsure of her reaction, he ran through what he said trying to figure out….'ay dios mio'.

Carefully untangling from the warmth of Noah's hug, Rafael's voice took on a note of unease. "Sir Noah, how about you go prepare for our epic castle build. I just need to talk to your momma for a minute." His glance shifted to Lucy. "Do you have a few extra minutes to spare to sit with Noah?"

Lucy's nod was gracious, her smile warm. "Of course," she responded, her voice light and joyful. "And I'm glad to see that you're doing better, Mr. Barba."

"Rafael, please," he insisted on the use of his first name. Lucy nodded her affirmation.

Standing was a bit of a challenge, the movement pulling painfully at his damaged ribs. He fought to keep any indication from his face not wanting to worry Olivia. Locking eyes with her, Rafael gave a silent nod toward the back of the apartment and headed towards the bedroom, each step weighted with unspoken questions and the gravity of what had just slipped from his lips.

In the privacy of the room, Rafael faced Olivia, his expression guarded. "Liv, forgive me, I didn’t mean to—Noah isn’t my—"

Olivia captured Rafael's words with her lips, silencing him, her mouth was sweet and gentle with an insistent force that left no room for speech. His surprise melted into the kiss, which quickly turned fiercely passionate, a moment that spoke of unspoken promises.

Pulling back, panting, Rafael had a hard time finding words but it was Olivia who spoke first.

"What did you mean by it?" she asked, her voice weaving hope and concern together, searching for truth.

His heart was telling him one thing but his mind was screaming at him that it was too soon, but both were telling him to be honest. His reply, candid and raw in its truth. "I love both of you, Liv. It just slipped out, I should have been more careful." Seeing her expression drop slightly, he quickly added, "but it would be a privilege to be that boy's father. I never wanted kids but Noah, he's different, you and him make me think I… I could see myself one day…"

Her eyes, sparkling with unshed tears, met his in a look that spoke more than words could, and their lips met again.

Rafael pulled away and asked, "Should I refrain from calling him that until we've had more time together, a chance to talk? I don't want to confuse him…or upset him…"

Olivia's fingertips pressed against his lips, silencing him. "No," she confirmed, her voice steady with the conviction. "Call him what feels right to you. If he asks, you can tell him what it means and that it's a Spanish endearment."

"Liv," he breathed out, a whisper charged with longing. He drew her close, one arm securing her waist, melding her body against his, while his other hand wove into her hair, fingertips gently cradling her head. As their lips met once more, the familiar warmth of her kiss enveloped him. The tender plushness of her lips was a sensation he'd come to crave, never losing its allure; each kiss was as exhilarating as the first.

As they separated, Olivia’s voice held a teasing yet heartfelt note. "I think there's a little boy waiting to get to that tower of blocks you promised to build with him." Her smile was a soft battle between worry and warmth. "I love that he wants to spend time with you and your eagerness to spend time with my son is very… appealing," she cooed, voice laced with suggestion. To emphasize her point, her fingers traced a featherlight path up his chest. "But you need to focus on healing."

Rafael groaned, a husky, heated sound, and leaned in close, their foreheads touching. "You're killing me, Liv." His voice was a soft rumble. Trying to keep himself under control, he shifted the subject back to his castle project. "I promise that I'll be careful with Noah."

"Don't think I didn't see you wince when you stood up earlier." Olivia chastised recalling the fleeting grimace of pain he'd tried to mask earlier. "You're not fooling anyone, Rafa."

He paused, a hopeful compromise forming. "How about I supervise? I can be the project's contractor from a very comfortable place on the couch."

Her smile blossomed, eyes alight with affection. "Perfect strategy, counselor," she consented. "The faster you get better, the sooner that we can play together." She accentuated the word play, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

"Liv," he whined, a frustrated pout in his voice. "You're not playing fair."

She hummed in response, a hint of mischief in her tone. "Heal up, and you can see how fair I can be when we play." With that promise, she sashayed out of the room, leaving him in a state of tantalized frustration.

That night, side by side in the quiet of the bedroom, Olivia lay watching the gentle rise and fall of Rafael’s chest. The doctor had assured them that time would mend his injuries, yet worry lingered in her heart, compelling her to confirm his steady breathing. His breaths were a little shallow but nothing that caused her too much worry.

Her anxiety eased, she allowed herself a moment to reflect on their joyful family evening. The sight of her son and the man she loved more deeply than she thought possible, playing together had brought an overwhelming sense of peace. She couldn't recall a time when she had felt more complete, more grateful than ever before. Silently, she offered her thanks to the universe for the precious gifts of Noah and Rafael in her life.

_____________________

Elliot collected the printouts from the internet and stuffed them into a brown folder. Grasping the folder firmly, he headed to the precinct, eager to dive back into the police database. Certainty marked his stride; he was on the verge of unraveling the mystery that had taken hold of his thoughts.

Chapter Text

The early morning light struggled through the overcast sky as Detective Tutuola entered 1PP, the hubbub of the police headquarters heightened his poorly concealed nerves. As he approached Dodds' office, Catherine, the Deputy Chief's assistant sat diligently guarding her boss' door. There was something about the woman that always put Fin at ease and he could feel a calming wave rolling through his body.

"He's in there?" Fin asked, his voice low but clear.

"Of course, Detective Tutuola. He's ready for you," Catherine replied, her warm smile lit up the dreary office.

Fin couldn't help but return the gesture with a smirk. "Fin. Just Fin, remember?" he gently reminded her. As he swung the heavy door open, he called back over his shoulder, "Wish me luck."

Inside, Dodds looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His hand was propping up his head, eyes fixed on the documents strewn across his desk. Fin knew the kind of problems that Dodds wrestled with, the kind that made you age in the job, the kind that Fin preferred to steer clear of, if possible. He secretly respected the hell out of the man but went out of his way to avoid him at all costs. But he couldn't ignore the pressing threat to Liv and Barba, he was worried it was building towards something terrible.

"Sir," Fin announced, interrupting Dodds out of his heavy reflection. "Hope I'm not coming at a bad time."

Dodds looked up, his face etched with burden but his voice steady. "Not at all. I've been expecting you," he said, waving towards a chair. "Sit, let's figure this out."

The room, with its closed blinds and the scent of stale coffee, felt ominous but Fin pushed his discomfort down. "I hate to make a fuss, but something's not sitting right with me," he confessed, his brow creased with concern.

Dodds gave a slow nod in agreement. "Stabler seems to be spiralling. Can you fill me in on what has been happening?"

Fin got straight to the point. "He's been showing up, always when Liv's not around. He's poking around for info on Barba. Seemed random at first but it's clear that he's doing it on purpose. He's deliberately avoiding her."

The Deputy Chief let out a heavy sigh. "Do you know what he wants with Barba?"

"Just information—imagined secrets about him," Fin replied, shaking his head. "He's got it in his head that Liv's in some kind of trouble and Barba's the cause of it."

The Deputy Chief leaned forward, his voice a hushed thread. "I heard rumors about Stabler and the Lieutenant… hell, I saw him in the interrogation. Hasn't he always had a jealous streak when it came to her?"

"Yeah," Fin acknowledged with a firm nod. "But there was always a line he wouldn't cross. Jealous, sure, but never unhinged. Now? It's like he's spun off the edge of the map. He's playing a tune that's not just off-key; it's in a whole different scale."

Dodds was quiet for a moment, the gears turning behind his thoughtful gaze.

"There's more," Fin continued, his voice lowered in seriousness. "Each visit, his temper inches closer to the edge. When I called you, it was after he cornered me—Carisi had to step in. Then yesterday, he flung over a filing cabinet when Rollins challenged him." Fin let the gravity of his observations hang in the air. "He used to wield the authority of his badge when convenient, but what I'm seeing now... I'm afraid he might start using it as a weapon to force himself into spaces where he doesn't belong."

Dodds let out a deep breath, his expression firm. "Leave it with me. I'll have someone watch him and make sure he keeps his distance from the team."

Fin gave a grateful nod. "And Liv, Barba—they're in the dark. I hate to bother them but should we let them know what's happening?"

Dodds gave a decisive shake of his head. "Not yet. They've got their plates full, especially Barba—he needs to heal. We'll let them know if it escalates further."

_____________________

In the quiet morning light, Noah nestled close to Rafael, a tiny source of warmth that soothed his sore side. Olivia had decided they should all play hooky, skipping school and work to rest, needing time together.

"Uncle Rafa," Noah's voice was soft, "your momma's really nice, right?"

The question, innocent and out of the blue, gave Rafael pause. "Yeah, she is. She's got a big heart. Why do you ask, mijo?"

Noah looked up with the wide-eyed honesty that only a child could muster. "Because she's like my momma, and I think that's really great," he mused. "When you were in the hospital, Miss Lucia was there. Did she kiss your boo boos better?"

Rafael, masking a moment of sadness with a smile, reached over to playfully tickle Noah. "I don't know. I was sleeping… remember."

Giggles filled the room, bouncing off walls and filling the space.

"No…more, Uncle… Rafa!" Noah wriggled, trying to dodge Rafael's tickling assault.

Rafael pulled back, a grin on his face, as Noah, now a bundle of energy, kicked up with his small feet and nearly caught Rafael in his side.

"Is that you calling Uncle?" Rafael teased, his voice bubbling with amusement. As he saw the gears turning in Noah's head, he added, "Never mind, mijo."

Just then, Olivia appeared, the concern on her face quickly giving way to a mock-serious frown. "What's all this ruckus about?"

In unison, they answered, "Nothing," their voices a perfect echo of each other, with Noah's laughter still ringing out.

Olivia wagged a finger at their antics. "You two are quite the pair. Don't think I'm not on to you," she playfully admonished.

Rafael, still chuckling, turned to Noah. "So, why were you asking about my momma?"

Noah's infectious laughter faded into a look of sincerity. "I just wanted to say thanks to her for making you better. Could we go see her?"

The tenderness in Rafael's gaze was unmistakable. "That's a kind thought, Noah. Let's check with my mom, but I think a visit would be wonderful." Looking at Olivia, he added, "that is, if it's okay with your momma."

Olivia gave a gentle nod. "After such a tough week, a family visit is just what we need."

Rafael felt his heart skip a beat at Olivia's use of the word family.

_____________________

Rafael directed Olivia down the streets of his old neighborhood. The drive was a quiet journey down memory lane. The buildings were different, yet echoes of the past hung in the air like menacing shadows. Rafael focused on the here and now. Glancing at Noah and Olivia he felt a surge of gratitude—a reminder of the good that now filled his life.

Arriving at the apartment complex, Lucia was already waiting at her door, her welcoming smile as warm as the home she beckoned them into.

The scent of cooking wafted through the apartment, a homey scent that promised comfort and care. "Noah, welcome to my home," Lucia said, her tone a gentle hum of kindness.

Noah beamed at the welcome. "Thank you for inviting us, Miss Lucia!"

Her eyes crinkled with joy. "You're very welcome Noah. Any friend of my Rafi is always welcome in my house."

Noah’s small hand slipped into Lucia’s as they crossed the threshold, a gesture of trust that brought a soft sigh from Rafael. He looked to Olivia and saw a tender look in her eyes that he could only assume was reflected in his own.

As they settled into the cozy living room, Noah's gaze fell on a pile of plump pillows arranged at one end of the couch. "Miss Lucia, why do you have so many pillows?"

"Ah, those are for your Uncle Rafa. It's important that he has a comfortable spot to relax and recover." Lucia explained with a thoughtful glance at Rafael.

Noah motioned her closer with a little wave of his hand, and as Lucia leaned in, crouching down to his level, he whispered his gratitude, "Thanks for taking such good care of my Uncle Rafa."

Giving the small boy a light tap on the nose with her finger, Lucia respond. "And thank you for taking such good care of him as well."

Rising to her feet, Lucia's attention shifted warmly to Olivia. "Welcome, mija. Make yourself at home," she said, beckoning her to go to the living room, while Lucia made her way towards the kitchen.

Rafael's brows knit together at the casual endearment his mother used, but Lucia brushed off his silent protest with a chuckle. "Olivia and I, we've shared stories and laughter while you were sleeping," she teased, sharing a knowing look with Olivia.

"It's all fine, Rafa," Olivia reassured him, her hand gentle on his arm as she spoke. "Let's get you nestled into these pillows." She guided him to the couch, which had a floral pattern worn but lovingly preserved, and expertly arranged the pillows to embrace him. Once settled, Olivia sat beside him and wove their fingers together.

From her vantage in the doorway to the kitchen, Lucia observed them silently. "Dinner will be ready shortly," she called out, the promise of her signature ropa vieja on the air, "I've dialed down the spices for our young friend here."

The savory scent wafted into the room, and Olivia nodded in approval. "It smells divine," she complimented.

"Who is that?" Noah interrupted, his voice laced with curiosity. He was standing near one of the bookshelves, his finger pointing to a photo of a young boy.

"That, mi pequeño, is your Uncle Rafa," Lucia replied with a soft, affectionate smile. She watched Noah's eyes grow even rounder, a spark of wonder igniting within them. "He was just a little boy then, believe it or not—just a few years older than you are now. His room was his space station, and each night, it was his launchpad to the stars. We painted the planets together, and he insisted we hang them in perfect order. Saturn had to have the shiniest rings, and Earth, it had to be right where he could see it when he woke up—his little world within the world."

Lucia's fingers traced the edge of the photograph as she spoke. "He loved these glowing stars the most," she continued. "He'd lie in bed and reach out, trying to touch them, convinced that if he could just stretch far enough, he'd be able to scoop up a star or two."

Noah, tilted his head, a mix of amusement and astonishment playing on his features. "You were little like me, Uncle Rafa?" he asked, a giggle escaping him as he tried to imagine the man being small.

“Yes, mijo, hard to believe, huh? But I guess a part of me does miss being that little,” Rafael's hand patting his soft belly with affectionate jest. The laughter that followed filled the room but it was not loud enough to overshadow the soft gasp that escaped Lucia's lips.

The quiet noise caught Rafael’s attention, and he looked over to see Lucia with tears in her eyes, her hand tenderly touching her chest. In that quiet, unspoken exchange, he saw her deep emotion—a mother's realization of the family her son was creating. Rafael’s smile was gentle, filled with love, as he recognized the life he was building with Olivia and Noah, a family that had never allowed himself to dream.

_____________________

The aroma of Lucia’s cooking still lingered as they finished an excellent dinner. Lucia, with a knowing glance, assured Olivia she'd share her secret recipe, all the while playfully hinting that Rafael knew how to make it as well.

As the evening wore on, Olivia and Rafael reclaimed their cozy spot on the couch. Rafael, succumbing the weariness his recovery brought, let his head rest gently on Olivia's shoulder and dozed off. She relished the moment, her fingers softly combing through his hair.

Noah, meanwhile took up a spot on Lucia's lap, captivated by tales of Rafael's childhood, told through the pages of old photo albums. Each picture was a glimpse into another story, another laugh, another piece of the life of the man they all adored.

Lucia chuckled as she pointed to a picture. "There's little Rafi," she said, pride warming her voice. "He played a tiny role in the school play, but he had still memorized the entire script. When the lead fell ill, he stepped in at the last minute and dazzled everyone." She smiled, remembering. "But, oh, how he disliked those tights."

Olivia perked up. "Rafa in tights? This I have to see." She rose carefully, not wanting to disturb Rafael. Moving to stand behind Lucia, she peered at the adorable photograph.

"That is just precious," she said, a soft laugh escaping her.

Noah, seizing the moment, slipped off Lucia and climbed up beside Rafael on the couch. As if by instinct, Rafael's arm enveloped Noah in a secure embrace, and together, they quickly fell asleep.

Capturing the moment, Olivia snapped a photo with her phone. "I'll share this with you," she promised Lucia, her voice a hushed murmur.

Lucia's gaze flitted from the sleeping duo before turning to Olivia, moisture glazing her eyes. "Thank you," she breathed out, every word laden with heartfelt gratitude. "For bringing so much love to Rafi’s life, it’s a joy I didn't think would be part of his future."

A surge of affection swelled in Olivia’s chest. "No, Lucia, we are the grateful ones. Rafael, he’s been the missing piece, for me and Noah." Her voice wavered slightly, "I just wish we realized it sooner."

Their shared glance spoke volumes, a silent understanding of the deep connection they all shared now.

Breaking the quiet, Olivia glanced at the clock. "We should get going," she suggested softly, reluctance tinging her words. "It’s time to take these sleepy boys home."

As they prepared to leave, Lucia’s eyes welled up, but no words were needed. The significance of the word 'home' hung in the air.

Chapter Text

Later that evening, in the dim light of their room, Olivia and Rafael settled into the comfort of bed, carefully arranged pillows cushioned his injured side. Noah had fallen asleep as soon as they arrived home, exhausted from the day's events. Olivia had struggled to keep him awake long enough to get him ready for bed.

Breaking the hush, Olivia’s voice wobbled slightly. “Do you think we're moving too fast?"

Rafael's reply was light, despite his serious tone. "Liv, changing my shirt was a ten-minute battle," he joked gently. "I don't think I could possibly move any slower."

A frown flickered across Olivia's face. Ignoring his lighthearted response, she continued, "I spoke to your mother while you were getting your beauty sleep. It all sounded so… definitive. I realized we haven't had our own talk about... us."

He turned to her, his movement careful but full of intent. "Liv," he said, voice brimming with warmth, "you and Noah are the chapters I didn't know were missing from my life story. I’m ready to write the rest together, at whatever speed you need."

Her voice was a whisper, laden with emotion. "I've never been so sure, and yet so scared of losing anyone before."

"I fell for you from the start," he admitted, his gaze holding hers. "Your confidence and competence were intoxicating. Even when I didn't fully understand it, my heart was already yours. Every moment we've shared, every hurdle—it all brought me closer to you. You're it for me."

"What if we move too fast… and things get hard? I don't want us to crumble." She squirmed towards him, trying to press herself even closer against his body.

He responded with a mix of seriousness and playful warning, "You keep wiggling against me like that and things are definitely going to get hard."

She gave a mock stern tap to his shoulder. "Behave, I'm being serious here. I don't want us to fall apart. I don't want to mess this up."

"You make it sound like we just met on the street," he responded with a sigh. The next words were spoken with conviction in his voice in hopes of providing her assurance. "We've built a solid foundation the past five years and are no strangers to challenging times. I know you Olivia… I know your son. We already have an intimacy that couples dream about achieving. Nothing the world throws in our path would make me want to leave you."

Her eyes, shimmering with emotion, met his. "God, I love you, Rafa. So much."

"I love you too, mi vida." He tenderly replied, rubbing his thumb across her cheek before drawing it down to clasp her left hand in his. "Can we consider this our talk about us?" he asked. "I don't think we need to go into details trying to define this. I want you and Noah, however that comes—and I think we both know where this is heading." His thumb lightly pressed into her ring finger.

Not trusting her own voice, she nodded.

"Good. Now, let's get some sleep. The faster I heal, the faster we can get to those hard times you mentioned," he waggled his eyebrows.

Her soft laughter filled the room. "You're an idiot," she said, the words spoken with tenderness and true affection.

_____________________

The sedan was a motionless shadow outside Olivia's apartment, its occupant shrouded behind tinted glass and an unwavering patience. Although the building lay dormant, he lingered—a predator awaiting any sign of movement.

Inside the car, he passed the time by idly examining the digital camera, the words 'property of the NYPD' etched along its side. The screen came to life with a press of a button, showing photos taken throughout the day.

He had stationed himself outside her apartment by 8 am, anticipating the morning ritual of Olivia and her son, Noah. The past week's observations told him that Noah would set off for school around 8:15 am, usually with Olivia or sometimes the nanny. Olivia would follow shortly if she wasn't the one accompanying him. She then usually returned sometime after 1pm. Barba would be left alone in the apartment until that time. A surge of tension ran through him as his fingers gripped the camera tighter at the thought of the lawyer waiting in Olivia's space.

When 9 am rolled around, he thought he had missed them until Fin showed up. The detective didn't reappear for 40 minutes, this time emerging with Olivia in tow. The pair stood in front of Olivia's building and had an exchange too distant to overhear, Fin then departed toward the precinct, leaving Olivia to head back inside.

A sour thought crossed his mind as he saw Olivia take an unplanned day off. 'No doubt manipulated by Barba to play nurse,' he mused bitterly.

The images captured later that day painted a mundane yet unsettling narrative: Olivia and Barba, with young Noah between them, headed for an apartment in the Bronx. Their smiles, captured in a series of shutter clicks, were too carefree for his comfort and caused a sick feeling to settle in his stomach. The sequence showed Noah securely fastened in his seat by his mother with Olivia then attending to arrange Barba in his seat. Looking at that particular photo of the pair, he couldn't help but frown. Olivia had enough on her plate without taking on another responsibility.

Nearly five hours ticked by with him stationed outside the Bronx address. With the unit number unknown, the activities inside a mystery to him. Their departure came shortly after nightfall, Olivia's arms cradling a dozing Noah, Barba's figure a step behind, their faces etched with fatigue. It was as if the day's events had drawn every ounce of energy from them. Olivia's burdened form sparked an instinctual need in him to protect her, to wrap her up in his arms.

Storing away the camera, he ignited the engine, the soft purr breaking the night's stillness. There were images to be reviewed, details to be pieced together, and decisions to be made. The drive back was not just a journey to his home but in thought, as he sifted through the details to determine his next course of action.

Earlier that day - Around 2pm

Dodds’ office was pierced by the urgent ring of his phone. With practiced calm, he answered without a glance. "Dodds," his voice firm, the embodiment of authority.

"Sergeant Bell," the reply came, laden with implications of trouble.

"What do you have for me, Sergeant?" His inquiry was incisive, demanding only the essentials.

"You told me to call if I had any updates on Detective Stabler. He hasn't been in today, sir." Bell said, her words laced with unease. "He mentioned an assignment to another detective, but there's nothing on the books. Also, we have a problem with missing surveillance equipment—no sign-out log."

A heavy silence hung in the air as Dodds absorbed the severity of her report, his fingers pressing into his forehead. "Do not confront Stabler. Let's discuss this in person. I'll arrange a meeting for tomorrow morning," he commanded, the weight of the next steps bearing down on him.

"Understood, sir," Bell acknowledged with a crispness that matched the gravity of the situation.

The call ended, but the quiet that followed was fleeting. Dodds was already dialing the next number, the urgency clear in the quick succession of rings.

"McCoy, we need to talk. This afternoon," he stated, the undercurrents of concern barely hidden in his tone.

Chapter Text

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the simple gold band he turned over in his hands. The ring caught the light and reflected sparkling flashes that hinted at promises of new beginnings and lifelong commitments.

In the stillness of the apartment, he pondered the weight of the metal between his fingers, imagining for a moment the words one might use in a moment full of love and potential. He held his breath, as if waiting for a response that would lead to a future filled with happiness.

Yet, as he gazed into the ring's polished curve, his own reflection stared back, distorted, much like the reality that clung to the band. It wasn't an introduction, it was the ending to a story already written—a chapter of his life he was desperately trying to close.

A heavy sigh escaped Elliot. "Fuck," he muttered, the word a low rumble against the silence in the apartment. The ring, a symbol of his failed union with Kathy, fell onto the glass tabletop with a soft clink. It cast a circular shadow that symbolized his greatest regret in life. He accepted that he had let Kathy down but failure with Liv was not an option. She was always the compass guiding him through the storm of his guilt and he didn't want to carry her around as another added regret.

Everything in his gut screamed at him that Liv wasn't safe with Barba. It was so definitive, it was as if a voice, clear and urgent, whispered of a danger only he could thwart.

Meanwhile, Rafael Barba lingered in the Benson's living room, his gaze fixed on the velvet box before him. It seemed like only moments ago that Olivia and Noah had shuffled out for groceries, leaving him to the silence and a throbbing pain along his ribs. Now, the ice pack lay forgotten, its purpose outlived, he sat sorting the thoughts that had compelled him to fish the box from his briefcase.

The ring lay nestled atop a satin pillow and was a piece of the past shining with the promise of the future. Its delicate band was etched with history and the diamond shone with a promising glimmer. It has been his abuelita's, who, had one day with knowing eyes pressed it into his hand uttering the words, 'Only take this if you have someone special in your heart.'

Before he had even spoken the words aloud, he knew the ring belonged to Olivia. He had taken it that day and for over a year it had lived in his briefcase, tucked among case files and court documents. It's presence, a reminder of a promise that he had not yet dared to voice. Staring at the ring he decided that tonight, that would change.

Elliot shoved the ring back into his nightstand, trying to pack away his memories with it. Kathy had moved on, and it was time for him to stop lingering on his failings as a husband.

Taking one of the prescription pills for his shoulder, Elliot started the process of moving pictures from his camera to his computer, determined to erase his digital footprint from the NYPD database. It took about twenty minutes, a testament to the sluggish pace of his outdated computer.

Not due at work till later, Elliot decided to devote his free time to rest, something he had gotten very little of during the past week. But his sleep was short-lived, interrupted by Sergeant Bell’s call asking him to report into the office for 1PM. After his unexplained absence yesterday, he was half-expecting this. He would explain he needed a personal day, hoping she would understand.

Rafael picked up his phone and tapped the number etched into his memory. As the line connected, he uttered, "Mami, I need a favor."

_____________________

Dodds shoes clicked against the polished floors of the Organized Crime precinct, a steady thrumming competing with the morning hustle. His gaze fixed intently on Sergeant Bell’s office but his mind replaying his conversation with McCoy. Their last words, vivid in his mind, where they had agreed on the strategy to bring Stabler onto familiar ground for their meeting.

As he stepped into the shadows of McCoy's office yesterday, the urgency of their situation heavy in the air. The District Attorney's assistant offered a quick, knowing nod—a silent exchange that spoke volumes as Dodds' hand met the cool mahogany of the door. With a firm push, he was met with the sight of McCoy, an unflinching presence behind the imposing desk.

His greeting was straightforward. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me so quickly," he began. "I could really use your perspective on how to proceed."

McCoy's hands made a dismissing gesture but his eyes held a concern that betrayed his calm exterior. "Think nothing of it. This effects both of our offices—Barba's safety is non-negotiable," McCoy said and with a rare smile added, "And, I'm pretty fond of Lieutenant Benson as well."

Settling into the chair across from McCoy, Dodds felt the weight of every decision before them. "He's a liability," he asserted, "Stabler’s actions are not something I can simply overlook any longer for the sake of keeping the peace—he’s out, immediately."

McCoy nodded, the light highlighting the lines of his weary face. "He's compromised both of our offices with his vendetta against Wheatley—and this new crusade he has against Barba is disturbing. Security will need to be tightened next week once the trial commences and we need eyes on Benson and Barba."

Dodds nodded, his mind already drafting the orders for extra guards.

They deliberated on the possibility of pressing charges against Stabler, weaving through legalities and ethics. "Perhaps we can stick him with stalking charges based on his taped confession?" McCoy mused, his voice a low rumble. “Get him out of the picture for a bit until things settle?”

Dodds' disagreement was firm. "Benson was adamant about not pressing charges. We have to respect that, find another angle if possible."

McCoy pondered about the possibility of disclosure. "We could bring her and Barba in? Ask again… she might have a different opinion, if…"

"We can't," Dodds interrupted already envisioning the trouble it could cause. "You know, Liv. She would dive headfirst into the mix in some misguided attempt to help Stabler, and I fear she would become collateral damage."

"The moment Benson gets involved, we can count on Barba to jump into the fray," McCoy said with an almost fond look. “So he's basically moved in with Benson, huh?" He asked with a smirk, momentarily changing the subject.

Dodds held his ends up and shook his head with a small chuckle. "They'll tell us when they're ready."

McCoy nodded and then shifted the conversation back to the matter at hand. "We'll need to keep Stabler under tight watch. If things start going south, we'll bring them into the loop."

Dodds returned to the moment at hand, rapping on Sergeant Bell's office door with a sense of purpose.

The door swung open to reveal Ayanna Bell's frame in the entrance. "Deputy Chief," she greeted him with formality and a nod. "We've arranged a larger space for this discussion," she said, gesturing down the hall. "Will there be others joining us?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "District Attorney McCoy and Detective Tutuola are expected."

At 8:30 am sharp, the gravity of the situation was already palpable as the group assembled in the interrogation room. Dodds surveyed the determined faces before him, each carrying a silent acknowledgment of the stakes at hand.

He wasted no time on formalities. "We know why we're here," he began, his voice low but firm. "Detective Stabler's recent conduct has raised alarms, and Sergeant Bell's report of missing gear only adds to our concerns. We're not here to dwell on the problems, but to find solutions. Actions speak louder, so let's focus on what needs to be done."

There was a collective nod around the table. No one needed further prompting on the seriousness of the situation.

"We have two objectives today," Dodds continued, with a clear sense of direction. "First, we maintain surveillance on Stabler—his apartment, Benson's place, the SVU and Organized Crime precincts. Eyes everywhere, discreetly. Second, we need to bring him in, but on our terms, without causing a stir. Sergeant Bell, you’ll handle that."

Bell gave a curt nod, her demeanor all business. "I'll have him just after noon."

Dodds turned to the rest of the group. "I trust everyone understands the delicacy required here. Detective Stabler is still one of our own, but we can't ignore the potential risk to Lieutenant Benson and Counselor Barba—and his previous actions. We'll proceed with caution, but today is his last day with the NYPD."

The meeting ended with a quiet urgency. They had a plan, roles were assigned, and now, it was time to act.

Chapter Text

Dodds slumped in his office chair, a weary sigh escaping him. He had trudged out of the Organized Crime office an hour ago, every ounce of the day’s stress etched into his face.

The meeting with Stabler played out just as he had feared: an utter fiasco.

Upon entering the precinct, Elliot found himself corralled into the interrogation room, flanked by Dodds and Bell. McCoy had retreated to his office, and Fin hovered in the hallway, ready to jump in if things escalated. Elliot, stone-faced with arms coiled across his chest, was a picture of defiance.

Dodds cleared his throat. "Detective Stabler, I'd wager you want to know why you're here with Sergeant Bell and me."

Elliot's glare cut through the pretense. "Let’s hear it. I don't have all day."

Dodds couldn't help the scoff that escaped through his nose. He'd admire Detective Stabler's arrogance if he wasn't so infuriated by it. "You've overstepped lines that shouldn't be crossed by the NYPD—your actions, frankly, are ones that should have had you behind bars."

Elliot tensed, a coiled spring ready to release, but Dodds' presence was commanding. "Stay seated, Detective." The room held its breath as he continued, "You harassed Richard Wheatley, hunted Benson and her boy like prey…”

"That's…that's not what I was doing," Elliot interjected, but Dodds was relentless.

"No, you've overstepped. You practically assaulted Detective Tutuola and abused NYPD gear."

Elliot’s voice was a low rumble. "The gear was returned."

"Irrelevant. Your rogue crusade ends now. Your badge, your gun—hand them over. You're done here, Stabler."

Elliot’s roar was thunderous, vibrating through the walls. "What the fuck! You can't fire me. I've given my life to the force. I won't let you do this!"

"It's not your choice," Dodds fired back.

In response, Elliot threw back his chair, and it went skittering into the wall with a loud clank, one of the metal legs bending under the pressure. "How dare you," he yelled as he advanced on Dodds. "Did Barba put you up to this?"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Dodds asked, trying to keep the disgusted look off his face. "You need to speak to someone. Your paranoia is getting out of control. You need help."

"Then send me to a shrink. Don't fire me," Elliot tried to reason.

Dodds shook his head. "No, this is done. It's not an isolated incident. You have a long-standing pattern of not being able to control your impulses, and you've endangered others more than once." He tried to look sympathetic for the next part. "I'm sorry, but it’s not something that the NYPD can continue to overlook."

Elliot reached out to grab Dodds' collar, but the other man quickly put up an arm to block his advances.

"I'm not the one who is endangering people. Liv…she's not safe with Barba. She needs help," Elliot punched his fist into the metal table, a dent forming in the wake of his fury.

Dodds shook his head. "Lieutenant Benson is more than capable of taking care of herself. And as for Barba, I can assure you he's not doing anything nefarious."

"You're lying!" Elliot roared. "Why are you protecting him?"

Dodds caught Sergeant Bell's eyes, and a look of concern passed between them.

Bell spoke up next. "Elliot, is everything okay at home?" she probed. "Is there something you need to talk about?"

"Goddamn it!" he yelled. "Stop being so fucking condescending and making it sound like I've lost touch with reality when I'm the only one thinking clearly.” He roughly rubbed two hands against his eyes in frustration as if he were trying to clear his head.
Snapping his head back up, he locked eyes with Bell and started to advance. He was stopped in his tracks by Dodds’ booming voice.

“Stabler, if you take one more step, you will be arrested and held on the assault charges. Now, your gun and badge. You can clean out your desk, and Detective Tutuola will walk you from the premises.”

Fin appeared in the doorway when the voices in the room grew louder. The noise of the door opening drew Elliot's attention, and his face pinched tight in a scowl.

Throwing his badge and gun on the table, he exclaimed, "You're making a big mistake, you'll see soon enough." Turning to face Fin, he sneered at his former SVU colleague. “You here to tattle on me again?"

“Come on, man,” Fin started, the frustration evident in his voice. “You know it ain’t like that. I'm worried about Liv…and I’m worried about you. This isn’t like you.”

Elliot's response came in the form of his shoulder slamming into Fin as he passed by and headed straight for his desk.

Back in his office, Dodds picked up his phone. He couldn't stop thinking about how unhinged Elliot was and decided that he needed to ensure that Benson and Barba were safe.

Chapter Text

Rafael swiped his damp palms across the smooth fabric of his dark pinstriped pants, part of the dressy but casual outfit his mother had brought over. The slacks paired nicely with the crisp, white button-down, its top buttons left undone letting his dark, wiry chest hair peek out. His sleeves were haphazardly pushed up to his elbows. Despite years of courtroom experience, today his nerves felt raw, as if the armor he’d built had been stripped away by recent events. The thought of Liv saying no made him feel vulnerable in a way he hadn’t felt since he was a younger man.

His fingers traced the outline of the ring box snug in his pocket, each passing moment making the weight of it feel heavier. Rafael closed his eyes briefly, the delicious smell of his mother's ropa vieja wafting throughout the space. The spices made the room feel warm and comforting. Now all he could do was wait for Olivia to arrive.

Earlier that day, Rafael had ushered Olivia and Noah out of the apartment with tickets to the American Museum of Natural History and the promise of a fun day with Lucia. At Rafael's insistence, the duo first enjoyed a mother-and-son lunch and were then set to meet Lucia at the museum. Roughly thirty minutes after Olivia and Noah had left, Lucia arrived to help Rafael set everything in motion

“Mami, I know this sounds crazy,” he began, his voice wavering, but Lucia cut him off gently.

“Hush.” Lucia's eyes glistened with emotion as she stepped closer. “You’ve known Olivia for years, mijo. And I’ve seen how you and her son are together. That little boy loves you.” Her voice trembled slightly, thick with feeling. “You’re practically a family already.”

Rafael’s throat tightened. “Mami,” he whispered, the word nearly lost as emotion filled the space between them. The air felt heavy, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other, the unspoken hope shared.

Lucia broke the silence, her practical nature taking over. With a determined nod, she started listing tasks that needed to be done before Olivia returned. Rafael tried to keep up, but his mind was swimming. An hour later, she departed, leaving a meal simmering on the stove and Rafael’s heart pounding as if trying to escape his chest.

At 4 p.m., the familiar sounds of keys clinking and the door creaking open made Rafael’s breath catch. Olivia’s voice drifted in. “Rafa. I’m back and completely exhausted,” she called, followed by the soft click of the door shutting. “What is that delicious smell?”

His pulse roared in his ears. 'Get it together, Rafael.' He flexed his trembling fingers, trying to ground himself. The room felt too warm, too bright. He swallowed, struggling to calm his nerves.

“Hi, Liv,” he managed, the words coming out almost too loud. He forced himself to take a deep breath, striving for a steadier tone. “I took care of dinner. Did you and Noah have fun with my mother?”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, her gaze narrowing slightly. “Yes…” she said, drawing out the word, her expression playful but curious. “Though your mom seemed in no hurry to bring him back. She even insisted on keeping Noah for the evening.” She paused, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Rafael’s hands shot up in mock innocence, though the motion was jerky, betraying his nerves. “She may have mentioned something about spoiling him rotten,” he said, a crooked grin forming. “I told her she’d have to get the boss’s approval.” He nodded in Olivia’s direction. “But she picked up some of his things in the hope that you'd say yes.”

Olivia studied him for a moment, her eyes dancing with amusement. “I almost said no,” she admitted, her voice softening. “It’s hard, you know, letting him out of my sight when it’s not necessary.” She sighed, then gave him a mischievous look. “But I realized it’s time I got back to normal. Besides…” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I thought you and I could use some time alone.”

Rafael couldn't stop the sharp sigh. "God, Liv, as much as I'd love that, my body is not in any shape to be as—physical as I want it to be for our first time."

"I know, " she reassured quickly, warmth glistening in her eyes. "But a girl can dream," she teased, giving him a wink. "I'm thankful for whatever is happening in my kitchen," she enthused, waving her hand towards the pots on her stove. "I assume that I have Lucia Barba to thank for this—she can take Noah any time she wants if she provides food in return."

"Hey," Rafael jumped in, pushing his nerves aside for a moment. "I'll have you know that she's not the only Barba who can cook. When I'm fully healed up, you better be prepared for a lot of Cuban cooking."

Olivia’s gaze lingered on him, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “You just keep getting more irresistible, you know that?” she murmured, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “And trust me, I’ll hold you to that Cuban cooking promise.”

Rafael’s eyes softened as he looked back at her, the intensity of his usual gaze tempered by a gentle warmth. "You better. My mother may have some competition in the kitchen when I’m at full strength.”

They shared a quiet laugh before she led him over to the dining table, where a delicious spread awaited them, the aromas of garlic, spices, and tender meat filling the room. Olivia pulled out a chair for Rafael, guiding him down gently, careful not to jostle his injuries.

Once they were seated, Olivia served him a generous helping, her eyes never leaving his face. She noticed the way he shifted slightly, wincing as he adjusted to get comfortable. She reached over, brushing his hand. “You don’t have to push yourself, you know. Just having you here is enough.”

Rafael’s hand covered hers, a small smile playing at his lips. “Liv, if it means I get to sit across from you like this, I’ll endure a little discomfort.”

Conversation flowed between them, but a faint awkwardness lingered in the air. The food was delicious, yet Rafael found it hard to eat, the pit in his stomach steadily growing as the minutes passed.

After clearing the table, Olivia led him to the couch, settling beside him and slipping her hand into his, giving it a comforting squeeze. The room glowed softly from a nearby lamp, casting warm shadows that softened the edges of the night.

They sat in a companionable silence, though Rafael’s thoughts refused to quiet. Words tangled and fought for release, his heart pounding against the walls of his ribcage.

“Rafa,” Olivia murmured softly, her voice breaking through his thoughts. She reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, her gaze warm and steady. “What’s going on? You’ve been—off tonight.”

Rafael’s mind raced. 'Curse this woman,' he thought, not for the first time in admiration. Olivia’s intuition was a gift—and a challenge. She noticed details others missed, her empathy sharp and unwavering, which made her one hell of a detective. But it also made it nearly impossible for those close to her to hide anything.

With a deep breath, Rafael’s trembling fingers reached into his pocket, finding the small box. Heart pounding, he withdrew it and, clumsily yet determined, placed it in her lap. The soft thud seemed louder than he’d expected, drawing a sharp, surprised intake of breath from Olivia.

Now or never, he thought.

"I know this might feel sudden," he began, forcing his voice to stay steady despite the tremor he felt deep inside.

"But I want you to know that I’m here, and I’m all in." He drew in a shaky breath, willing his nerves to settle. "I’m not asking right now… this is a promise for someday." His words floated into the quiet, charged space between them, barely more than a breath. "Think of it as a token, something that says…" His voice trailed off, the words escaping in a rush.

“Shh,” she soothed, reaching out to quiet him, her touch warm and grounding. "Don’t be so nervous, Rafa. It’s just me."

He shook his head softly, a faint smile forming. "There's nothing 'just' about you, Olivia Benson," he replied. "You're everything." He looked down at his lap and chuckled to himself. "Why am I so bad at this? I write impassioned speeches for a living."

She smiled, brushing away a tear forming in her eye. “I don’t know. I think you’re doing pretty well.”

Rafael took a steadying breath, holding her gaze. “I love you, Olivia Benson,” he said, her name reverent on his lips, “more than I think I ever realized.” He lifted the ring from the box. “This belonged to my Abuelita. She told me to take it if I ever found someone truly special. Without even thinking, I took it—like I knew, deep down, it was meant for you.”

A soft, emotional sound escaped Olivia’s throat. “Rafa…”

He brushed his thumb across her cheek, gently wiping away a tear that had started to fall. “No pressure. I just wanted to give you something to replace this,” he murmured, his fingers brushing the watch loosely hanging from her wrist. “Not that I mind you keeping it.” More seriously, he added, “But I don’t want you to think this is some reaction to my brush with death. When I picture my future, Liv… you’re always in it.”

“It doesn’t feel sudden to me,” she replied, her tone calm and steady. “And I don’t think this is trauma bonding, or whatever you’re worried about.”

He let out a small laugh. “Trauma bonding? Our entire four-year relationship has been a masterclass in that.”

“Exactly,” she beamed. “It’s not out of nowhere. You and I? We’ve been through so much together. This isn’t reactionary.” She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Stop trying to make this fit someone else’s narrative. Let’s listen to our story—and do what feels right, no explanations needed.”

Rafael’s grin grew, his heart swelling as he watched her. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her.

Olivia’s grin turned sly. "Now," she teased, "I’ll give you a pass for not getting down on one knee since you’re still healing." She held the ring box out to him. "But I won’t let you get away with not putting this ring on my finger yourself."

A full-body sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding escaped. “She said yes,” he murmured, the words a mix of wonder and relief, just loud enough for Olivia to hear.

She chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. “Yes, Rafael Barba. I will marry you.”

“Really?” he breathed, awe in his voice. “You’ll marry me?”

Olivia nodded, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. Leaning in, he cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing her cheeks as their eyes met in a brief, electric pause. Then his lips found hers, soft at first, savoring the moment, tasting the warmth that had always drawn him to her.

Their kiss deepened naturally, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, drawing her closer as her fingers threaded through his hair. It was tender yet fierce, and Rafael could sense Olivia holding back just a little, careful not to hurt him.

As they pulled away, Olivia smirked, her eyes twinkling. “Ahora pon este maldito anillo en mi dedo.”

_____________________

Across the city, he yanked open the bedside drawer, his fingers closing around the cold metal of his gun. Dropping a box of bullets beside him, he began the methodical, almost ritualistic process of loading the magazine. Each bullet slid in with a click, his focus sharpened to a single, relentless thought: Protect Olivia Benson.

With the magazine fully loaded, he took a steadying breath, but the tension thrummed through him, unrelenting. Nothing would stop him from his mission.