#captain cragen

[cathrrrine]

another addition to the svu worm post with other characters! as requested by @saurgaeee <3 (sorry i couldn’t add kat! i thought i wouldn’t be able to get her character right since i haven’t watched her seasons yet.)

how the svu characters would react to “would you still love me if i was a worm?” text (part 2)

Casey Novak

Alex Cabot

Brian Cassidy

John Munch

Melinda Warner

Dr Huang

Capt. Cragen

[specialvalentinesunit]

[rqgnarok]

leave a light on - nolan price

prequel for love you better now, but can be read individually

fandom: law & order, law & order special victims unit

wc: 4,735

warnings: canon presence of injuries, blood, violence, weapons, and hospitals. female reader.

summary: nolan's wife gets shot. he tries and fails to deal with that.

author's note below! masterlist / ko-fi / ao3

Nolan misses Liv’s call thrice before he calls for a recess.

The first two he’s stuck cross-examining the DA’s witness and he doesn’t realize how many times Liv has tried to get him on the phone until the third time she calls. He can’t answer, obviously– Judge MacNamara is lenient but not enough for Nolan to take a call in the middle of the day– but the call goes to voicemail and his screen lights up with Liv’s other attempts to reach him.

He immediately knows it’s bad. And he immediately knows it’s about his wife.

His chest constricts with his panic, breath catching and refusing to enter his lungs as his brain tries to catch up to the situation. The courtroom is suddenly too small and suffocating, his tie a noose around his neck.

It takes McNamara calling his name several times and the DA snidely wondering if the defense needs a minute for Nolan to somewhat snap out of it, pressing on Liv’s contact before the judge finishes adjourning for the day.

“Nolan,” she says, shaky. 

Not Price, which is what he’d expect from his wife’s coworker. They’re all friends, sure, but during work hours they fall into the habit of keeping everyone at arm’s length. Not right now, for some reason, and Nolan is tiptoeing the line between fine and about to crumble on the courthouse steps from a knock-out panic attack. 

“What happened?” Because something must’ve happened. His wife has one of the most dangerous jobs out there, life-endangering experiences being the norm and coming home not-dead being a good day. But if Liv is calling– if Liv is calling and (Y/N) isn’t…

Nolan has been psyching himself up for this day since (Y/N) first told him about joining the police academy. He’s still somehow not ready. 

He will never be ready for this. 

Olivia hesitates for a second too long and Nolan’s fear gets the best of him. “Olivia. What happened?”

Her voice cracks at (Y/N)’s name. Nolan grips his briefcase so tightly on the way to the hospital that his hand goes numb, nails digging into the skin of his palm until it’s red and tender. 

The knot of anxiety in his belly doesn’t unclench despite the quick, easy ride to the hospital. New York traffic seems to be doing him a favor, but it isn’t the physical distance he’s worried about. That one at least he’s able to cross. There’s nothing he can do if his wife is… if she…

Nolan finds a sea of cops and NYPD blue as soon as he crosses the threshold into Bellevue, worried and talking over each other as they watch over one of their injured own. None of them are familiar faces and his panic increases tenfold, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears drowning out doctors, officers, and detectives. 

Suddenly, the sea of people parts for her, and Olivia is in his line of sight, giving Nolan’s brain something to focus on other than the never-ending possibilities of what he might be facing here. She looks disheveled, shirt askew and vest still halfway on; her hair out of place, and her expression haunted, but no blood. There’s no blood on her and it's an important distinction for Nolan to make when she seizes his free hand in hers.

“Nolan,” she says, and her voice sounds like static, just like it did on the phone. It isn’t the line but Nolan’s brain filled with noise, like cotton in his ears and mouth and eyes stopping him from receiving the world clearly. “Nolan, are you okay?”

“What happened?” he asks again. Liv hadn’t explained, not really. She only told him that (Y/N) was hurt and they were taking her to Bellevue. You should come too, she’d said, and should had sounded more like need, which did nothing to soothe Nolan’s raising hackles.

Nolan’s breath stutters. He knows what happened, but he can’t comprehend it. The hand holding his briefcase is shaking. He asks once more when Liv only blinks at him, mouth open and no words coming out. “What happened?”

“We were chasing a suspect via foot,” and Nick’s there, too, by Liv’s side, like an apparition Nolan might’ve conjured. His brows are furrowed, jaw tense. “We caught him mid-rape and separated to cover more ground. No one had mentioned a gun during their disclosures, he wasn’t supposed to be armed.”

“(Y/N) caught up to him first,” Liv continues, voice dry, shaking her head. “He– Shots went off but we didn’t know– he must’ve known we were onto him. Got his hands on a gun after the first wave of assaults.”

Nolan bites the inside of his cheek. He tastes blood and thinks of his wife, and stops.  

“She was alone for two minutes tops,” Nolan wonders if Liv thinks she’s being reassuring. “She’d been shot, we called a bus right away.”

“Where?” Nolan asks tightly.

Liv blinks. Nick answers, “What?”

“Where, where in her body was she shot, how–” he struggles for a full breath and only comes out half successful. “How bad is it?”

Silence. 

“Did you– did you not see her?” he wonders, biting. Nolan turns back and forth between his wife’s coworkers, losing his patience. “Were you there, was she– Jesus, Liv, how bad is it?”

“The bullet hit her chest,” Nolan loses all fiery, defensive passion right then and there. His own heart stops for a second, or at least that’s what it feels like when his chest is engulfed by a pressing ache that numbs him all over. 

“They took her straight into surgery,” Nick continues when Nolan doesn’t say anything to that, unable to leave his partner to the wolves. “Liv rode with her in the ambulance but there wasn’t– it’s in their hands now. They’re taking care of her, pal, okay? She’s getting help.”

Where was the help when she was alone chasing after a fucking criminal, where the hell were you, huh he wants to say; wants to shout and curse and point and make a scene, but the words get stuck in his throat and in the next blink he finds himself seated in the waiting room, still surrounded by cops.

God, Nolan thinks, pressing his fingers to his tightly closed lids. When, in their fifteen years of knowing each other, could he have seen this coming? The bright-eyed, furiously righteous kid halfway through law school and the pretty girl who took one of his classes as an elective, only to completely destroy one of his classmates during a debate that made up half their grade.

Nolan had watched, mouth barely open in amazement as quiet, back-of-the-class (Y/N) didn’t flinch while delivering the final blow and bringing her team to victory. She snuck out before he could talk to her– do something stupid like congratulate her with stars in his eyes and an invitation for coffee on his tongue, but it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter because the next weekend his roommate dragged him to a party and she was there, she was everywhere now that Nolan was unconsciously looking out for her. He ran into her in the hallways from one class to another, in the library, at parties and restaurants. It was like the world was screaming at him here! Here, look this way! Here it is, the rest of your life waiting for you! All you gotta do is look! 

He’d been there for hours already, bored and annoyed out of his mind when he saw her across the room. After nursing the same red cup of warm beer and looking at his watch every couple of minutes, calculating the appropriate time to bail he saw her. She’d been leaning against a wall, her expression changing from concealed humor to disbelief to a laugh that had her hiding behind her hand, entertained by whoever she’d been speaking to.

Who it was, Nolan doesn’t remember. He doesn’t even think about the cliche of it all, how the world faded when their eyes locked across the room and (Y/N) gave him a smile, shy, shrugging and turning back to her conversation. 

The funny pressure on his chest didn’t dissipate when he finally got a chance to exchange words with her. After the final exam, Nolan left the lecture hall and sat heavily on a bench by the door, catching his breath from the adrenaline of a month worth of study finally being over. 

(Y/N) was there, too, smiling sheepishly up at him as she crouched against the wall, elbows on her knees. Her expression brims with shy recognition as she nods. “How’d you do?”

She was talking about the exam. Nolan’s embarrassed to this day by the time it took for him to catch up. His cheeks were flushed when he answered. “I’m, uh, not flushing out yet, I hope.”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“Ask me after I’ve slept some 12 hours,” he sighed, messing nervously with his hair. “Things usually seem less dire by then.”

“Would some coffee do the trick?” and Nolan didn’t know it then, but (Y/N) was nervous, bravery swelling inside her chest as she asked him for the first day of the rest of their lives. In the end, she’d been the one to catch up to all the signs, all the serendipitous opportunities to finally end up where they were supposed to. 

“Coffee can work,” Nolan, young and eager, said slowly. He couldn’t stop grinning, high with lack of sleep and the attention of a pretty girl. “You’re buying?”

“It’s only fair,” she shrugged, but there was something giddy about her expression that he still sees in her face to this day sometimes, bright and young. “You look like you’re about to drop dead.”

“And I still seem like worthy company?”

“I think we can pull a few good hours out of you yet,” a few hours, a few years; Nolan will be as sleepless as he was then on his wedding day out of pure excitement. They’ll have spent the night before the ceremony talking on the phone while they slept in separate rooms because their friends are sentimental little fucks like that and wouldn’t let him even kiss her goodbye before the big day. 

He’d described the few hours apart as agony in his vows, had made the crowd laugh and (Y/N) cry with the sentiment, and he wishes he hadn’t now. He shouldn’t have said a damned thing, shouldn’t have manifested any sort of agony into their lives because now the illusion cuts off sharply, and then he’s back in the waiting room, a nurse calling (Y/N)’s name while he plays with his wedding ring and bites the inside of his cheek, staring blankly into the hallway. 

Liv’s still there for some reason, as are some other officers and Amaro, while the others hunt down the man who landed their friend in the hospital. Munch had snapped at the Captain when he told him he couldn’t stay. Fin had to lead Amanda out of the hospital by the shoulders, too stricken to do it herself. 

Liv and Amaro stand when they hear the nurse but it takes Nolan a few moments to gather himself back together enough to pay attention. She tells them, gently, “She’s out of surgery. She lost a lot of blood, but only some of the bullet’s fragments hit her heart. It was touch and go but the doctor was able to extract all of them.”

Nolan’s lungs open up and he gets the first full breath washing over his body since Liv called. He must make a sound, because the attention in the room shifts to him, suffocating and inquisitive. His vision blurs for a second, not because of tears but adrenaline, his heartbeat pumping in his ears.

“She’s extremely lucky,” she continues, and she’s looking right at Nolan when she says this, like it's supposed to help. Like that’s what luck means, almost-but-not-quite bleeding out while your heart is stitched up back together. “Most people with injuries like this don’t even make it past the ambulance.”

Nolan closes his eyes in anguish. He presses his closed fists against his forehead, elbows on his knees, back hunched. It’s almost like he’s trying to disappear into himself, away from the image of an ambulance opening its doors when arriving at the hospital only to be met with his flatlining wife, the sound echoing through his brain and overriding every other of his senses.  

“There’s still a long way to go,” she continues, softer, realizing she’s hit a nerve. She turns to Liv and Nick, who are paying rapt attention even as Nick walks close to him to put a hand on Nolan’s shoulder, tight and steady. “She won’t wake up anytime soon. Her body needs rest and to recuperate from the most acute of her injuries. And the doctor would like to talk about next steps once she does.”

Next steps, Nolan thinks. Next steps, the only next steps he’s aware of are those that lead to his wife, the nurse walking him to her room. Olivia and Amaro trail behind him like a couple of guard dogs, standing alert for any sign of Nolan backing out or collapsing into his grief.

He just might. He feels queasy, nauseous with exhaustion and worry. But then he sees his wife, and, really, nothing else matters. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, devastated, walking to her bed across the hospital room. “Oh, honey.”

Despite his eagerness to touch her, Nolan flails when (Y/N)’s finally within arms reach. She looks asleep for one blissful, hopeful moment, but then Nolan blinks and the light settles; the ashiness of her skin, the uncomfortable placing of her body, the blank expression devoid of dreams or nightmares or consciousness. 

He’d usually be embarrassed to have a witness to such a personal display of affection, but not even Liv and Nick standing tall at the door can stop Nolan from eventually cupping (Y/N)’s face in his hands and kissing the apple of her cheek, lingering and gentle. He’s afraid of touching the rest of her, of jostling her too badly, but the steady noise of the heart rate monitor is a constant, loud reminder that (Y/N) won’t fall apart that easily.

Liv and Nick linger behind him, talking quietly amongst themselves in sharp whispers. It might or might not be an argument, and in Nolan’s mind it feels like both an eternity and a couple of seconds. He would kick them out if he could gather the energy to care about it. Eventually, Benson takes a few apprehensive steps into the room, seemingly having lost whatever fight she and her partner were having. 

“We’re on our way out,” she murmurs. “There’s a lead on our guy, the Captain’s calling us all back to the precinct. But if there’s anything…”

She trails off. Nolan doesn’t answer, studies instead the bridge of (Y/N)’s nose and the shape of her eyebrows, tries to count her eyelashes and catalog the bruises on her face. Liv sighs defeatedly and reaches for him.  

“Whatever you need,” Liv says firmly with a hand on his arm. Still, her steady presence is undermined by the way she keeps looking at (Y/N) like she’s already attending a funeral. Nolan suddenly can’t stand her, even if she rode the ambulance with (Y/N) to the hospital and kept her semi-conscious until the doctors took her off her hands. “We’re here for you, alright? All of us, Nolan. I’m serious.”

“Thanks,” he says, voice rough and cracked from swallowing down his panic and tears. He clears his throat but it does little to clear up his words. “Thank you, Liv. For everything.”

Her lips tighten in an unpleased line, but she nods and leaves the room with one last squeeze to his shoulder. He’s being ungrateful, the fact doesn’t escape him. Liv’s the one who found her, who held her hand in the ambulance before they drove her off to surgery. Nolan owes Benson his life.

The thought alone makes him so nauseous he has to clench his eyes shut, jaw tight, entire body trembling. God, what would he have done? What will he do, if something happens to (Y/N)? She isn’t out of the woods yet and if something goes wrong, if her body decides to cave in, if the wound gets infected, if there’s something they didn’t catch, if, if, if, if–

He lifts his head and catches his wife’s face, lax and motionless. Once again, the panic settles. He hasn’t gotten the chance to let it unfold the way it needs to. 

“I finally got you on your own,” Nolan says, soft, careful not to disturb the semblance of peace in the room. (Y/N) doesn’t answer, no matter how badly Nolan wants her to. “You’re very popular. A tough one to find these days, you know.”

She wasn’t even supposed to be in today. Cragen had called mere hours after they’d gone to bed– at the same time for the first time in weeks– and Nolan had done his best to stay up after the phone rang and (Y/N) began quickly getting ready. She’d kneeled next to his side of the bed and Nolan had leaned in to kiss her without thought, an automatic notion he wishes he’d paid more attention to now. 

I’ll call you when I can, she nudged her nose against his temple before pressing a kiss there. Nolan had already been half asleep at that point. Love you.

Love you back, Nolan mumbled, jutting his chin forward blindly. One more. 

He continues as if (Y/N) had spoken. “You’ve got half of the NYPD out there waiting on you. The nurses are rioting, but I don’t think anyone’ll leave until you wake up.”

Nolan’s voice loses the battle, it breaks right at the end of his sentence and so does his composure, eyes burning with tears that for some goddamned reason just won’t fall.

“Please,” he begs to the sky, to God, to no one. “Please, please, please. Wake up.”

He presses his forehead to his wife’s limp hand maybe a little too harshly. Even if the skin is cold and her grip is nonexistent, the relief the touch brings Nolan has him sobbing.

An hour ago she was in surgery, out of reach and sight even if she was already getting help.

Three hours ago she was bleeding out in some alleyway in Queens, struggling for her radio to call for help. Seven hours ago she was kissing him goodbye, smiling against his mouth despite the dark nature of the sudden case because Nolan kept pulling her in for one more kiss.

One more, one more, one more, his pleads begs now. Wake up and give me one more, sweetheart, come on now.

“Please, honey,” he whispers, wet and nasal with emotion. “I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready yet, I didn’t– I don’t–”

The words don’t come. Nolan chokes, holds (Y/N)’s hand in his own, and breathes, breathes, and breathes. 

—

Life moves on. 

Nolan doesn’t cry. God knows why, but he can’t, his body on automatic while his mind solely focuses on (Y/N)’s condition. The nurses know him by name and he makes record time to the apartment and back to the hospital for showers and quick naps, some food for the little appetite he has. 

He doesn’t even think to be offended when his boss places him on indefinite leave. Nolan can’t bring himself to care, he would’ve stacked up every sick day and vacation time available to stay at (Y/N)’s side as much as he could anyway. 

The squad offers to stand guard almost daily, which Nolan appreciates, but his object permanence has gone to shit. Whenever he doesn’t have eyes on (Y/N) his panic rises again like a tidal wave, never quite crashing but dwindling whenever he sits next to her at the hospital, hand on her ankle or arm or somewhere he can easily look for her pulse, weak but steady. 

It’s desperate, he knows, and more than a little pathetic, but Nolan feels like he’s allowed. Until (Y/N) wakes up to tell him he’s been worrying over nothing he will do as he pleases.

He talks to her. It’s another coping method that borders on delusion but no one has called him out of it yet. Not even Liv and Amaro, who have caught him more than once speaking quietly into the lull of the hospital room, holding his wife’s hand and drawing soothing motions with his thumb against her skin.

Mom drove into the steps again. The ones in the driveway? They were already loose from last time and now she has Dad driving through every Home Depot in North Carolina to find the right match. 

Jill sends her best. Last time I saw her she was talking my ear off about her kid’s college fund. Apparently her husband lost half of it during Tuesday night with the boys, whatever that means.

Munch says he owes you 20 bucks from the Giants game from two weeks ago? Which is weird, because you haven’t watched a full game since, like, ‘02. Not like you’re missing anything, but still, your accuracy to outsmart Munch in his own line of work is pretty outstanding. 

It helps. Or it helps enough; whenever he ventures over what they’ll do once she’s awake and at home together the illusion breaks and so does Nolan’s voice. He trails off, feeling foolish, the weight of his delusion pressing on his chest.    

“It’s not silly,” Munch tells him during one of his visits, the book he’s been reading to (Y/N) resting on his lap. “It’s helpful and it doesn’t hurt anyone. You’re talking to your wife. If I’d done more of that back in my day then maybe I’d still be married.”

“To which one?” Nolan asks, his lips tingling with the want to almost smile.

Munch points at him as if saying yahtzee. “Exactly.”

He’s so sure it calms Nolan more than you’d expect. So far Munch is the only other person who talks about (Y/N) like she’s still alive and thus, the only one who doesn’t make inexplicable helpless rage wash over Nolan whenever they’re in the same room. 

He’s the one with him when (Y/N) wakes. She does so in a panic, waking Nolan up from his uncomfortable sleep in the chair next to her bed. It’s a sudden flail after another as her heart rate monitor goes crazy and she doesn’t answer any call of her name, terrified and in pain.

It’s awful. Nolan doesn’t think he’ll ever forget how she almost tears at her stitches mid her panic while doctors and nurses gather around her and kick Nolan out with quick accuracy. There’s nothing he can do to help and he knows it, but he’s never supposed to be in a position in which he can’t help her.

He’s doomed to watch from a glass window, helpless, as his wife suffers without anyone to reach out to.  

She woke up but had to be sedated, a nurse tells him after, it’s normal for patients to be unaware of their surroundings after waking up from long periods of unconsciousness. We still haven’t been able to determine neurological damage, so we’ll have to wait until it wears off. 

“Kid, kid, hey,” Munch says, oddly alarmed after coming back from the cafeteria with two coffees and finding Nolan sitting outside (Y/N)’s room, crying into his knees. “What’s wrong, what happened? I was gone for fifteen minutes–”

Nolan tries to explain but the words get caught up in his throat, his grief taking over his sense of logic. She woke up, he meant to say. She woke up and she didn’t know where she was and I stood by like an idiot to watch her suffer. 

After he’s talked down from a panic attack he says, voice a mere croak. “She woke up. They don’t know– but she woke up.”

Munch sighs, visibly relieved as he squats next to Nolan, squeezing his shoulder in support. “Good. That’s good, hey– Nolan. That’s good, okay? That’s one step closer to getting her back. This is good.”

He repeats those words to himself like a mantra. This is good, this is good, this is good, and doesn’t dare to close his eyes for something other than blinking until (Y/N)’s conscious. It’s hours later, deep into the night when she opens her eyes again, groggy and disoriented, blinking into the dark hospital room. 

“Honey,” he says, quiet and so, so relieved. (Y/N) doesn’t appear to hear him and a flash of fear seizes his heart. He presses the button and calls for a nurse, edging closer to the bed. “(Y/N/N). Hey, honey, you with me?”

Arduously slowly, (Y/N) follows the sound of his voice. She blinks at him, gulping and saying, dry as the Sahara. “Nole.”

It’s the most glorious thing he’s ever heard. The smile that pulls at his mouth is unconscious, ripped from him almost against his will. He goes to touch her face, hands shaky and reverent. “Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me.”

He offers her a drink and grips her hand all through the nurse’s examination, which she passes with flying colors. While she’s tinkering with her IV, (Y/N) asks him, “Bellevue?”

“Yeah,” he says grimly, thumb rubbing soothing motions against her skin, trying to infuse some warmth. 

“Shot?” she wonders next.

Nolan hesitates. “You don’t remember?”

“Guessin’,” she slurs, tired, blinks getting longer each time she closes her eyes. 

The nurse pipes up then with the same explanations she’s given Nolan the past few weeks: the bullet to her heart, the long-lasting surgery, and the even longer coma. (Y/N) nods in all the right places but her head rests against the pillow and her expression remains blank, like she’s not retaining any information.

“Anyone… else?” she asks.

“No,” Nolan responds, watching how tension falls off her frame when he confirms this fact. He wishes he felt the same, a selfish part of him wishes it had been someone else; Liv or Amaro or Fin here in this hospital bed instead of his wife. It’s true, even if the thought is followed by guilt. “No, everyone’s fine, honey. Working their asses off and worried out of their minds, but okay. It’s just you.”

(Y/N) hums and then promptly falls back asleep, breaths settling into an even rhythm. It’s then that his eyes water and his tears fall on the scratchy hospital sheets where (Y/N) lays.  Oh, Nolan thinks, almost surprised by them. So this is what it takes.  

Nolan bows his head and lets himself cry in silence. His breath keeps hitching, and the nauseating feeling of panic he’s been nursing for weeks finally explodes. He can’t feel his hands and feet, body numb all over. 

The next time he looks up, hours later, is because (Y/N)’s reaching to touch his face, tender and shaky. He snaps to attention like a soldier called to his battalion, but there’s no trouble chasing after them, no bad thing happening for once. They’re okay, alone and safe in her hospital room while nurses and doctors and visitors keep passing by just outside the door.

“You haven’t slept,” (Y/N) croaks out as she drops her hand from where she’d been gently pressing at the bags under Nolan’s eyes, tired from that simple movement. Her chest rises and falls with breaths that are a little too labored, but her eyes are fixed on her husband, worried. “Nole.”

It almost makes him smile: (Y/N) worrying about other people while she lies with a hole in her heart on a hospital bed. Nolan would laugh if he were sure it wouldn’t immediately turn into crying again, but there’s nothing funny about this. Nothing.

“‘m alright,” he promises, weak and croaky and wet from previous cries. (Y/N) looks a little too out of it, but also like she doesn’t believe him for a moment. He amends: “I will be. And so will you. You’re gonna be okay, honey.”

happy new year!!! i wanted to start the year giving you a little something after being so absent the last couple of months and i've had this piece in my drafts for ages! it was originally waaay longer but i thought i'd end it on a happy note and maybe make a part two if anyone's interested?

anyway! i hope you guys enjoy what has become one of my favorite pairings to write and i hope you had a good time last night and a great 2024! thank you for reading!

<3

[claires-audience]

Guys we really need to start paying more attention to law and order OC as well because its Elliot’s show and it allows us to see his side of the story so there are a few instances where Olivia makes an appearance and he asked her once “what is this” and replied “a friendship”. Another time he asks her about her relationship while he was gone and she replies “ seriously?!”. In OC he takes his chances to ask her around whenever he can but in SVU thats not so much the case because it’s Olivia’s show and we wont know how she feels unless she voices it out.

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Shit, Dealt With

Okay, So I am back with the next chapter of Grumpy ADA and the Detective. It took a while but I did it.

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, an anxiety attack, death, violence, drugging, kidnapping, swearing, leering creepy suspect. It isn’t explicit but is discussed more than it was in the previous chapters. I'd say it was universe typical.

Master list

Prompt List

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Six

Tag List: @profoundtyrantharmony @wanniiieeee @zizzlekwum

Two weeks, that was how long this case had been going on. Two more bodies had turned up, all similar in age and body type. And all with the same type of injuries, the unsub was smart, there was no way to identify the bodies except hoping that their DNA or fingerprints were in the system or someone had reported them as missing and as they were all disposed of in bodies of water any traces of DNA were either washed away or so corrupted there was no chance of getting a match. You had managed to get a working profile of the Unsub but without any information on the three victims the profile wasn’t fully complete.

“Male, late 30s to early 40s, gay or at least bi,” you muttered staring at the crime scene images. “Probably attractive and charming enough to lure these men to them, with the specific location of the attacks there is a massive chance of internalised homophobia, but that could be on the victims side just as much as the Unsubs side. Definitely a sadist.”

“Is it a terrible thing that I am hoping for another body?” Amanda asked coming up beside you.

“I’m hoping for the same thing,” you answered turning to look at her. “But as of now, we have nothing to go on. Surely someone has missed our victims, there is no sign of them having been homeless. Their teeth were all in good condition, hair was looked after and treated, their bodies showed clear signs of steady meals and exercise.”

“Maybe they were all loners, who didn’t connect with many people?” she suggested. “Especially, if they didn’t always like who they were.”

“True, which is going to make this even harder,” you signed slumping in your chair. The only good thing to come from this case being difficult was you had no need to go the ADA for anything or for him to come here. At most the two of you shared strained polite smiles and boy did the room fill with tension.

Amanda nudged you when she noticed Rafael walking into the squad room making his way to Cragen’s office. Finn and Olivia were both off on lunch leaving you, Nick and Amanda as the only other detectives in the office. You subtly tracked him as he entered the Captains office and closed the door. Your chest squeezed at the sight of him, but it didn’t feel anything like what happened two weeks ago, it was a very different feeling.

“You okay?” Amanda asked stepping into your line of sight.

“Yeah, I will be,” you answered. “Um, would you tell the Cap-”

“Viper, could I see you for a moment?” Cragen interrupted you, motioning you to enter this office. You froze, body going a little cold, sending a wide eyed look to Amanda.

“You’ll be fine, just leave if you need to,” Amanda squeezed your arms, getting you moving. You nodded taking a deep breath and counting to ten before entering Cragen’s office.

Rafael was standing to the side near the observation window into the interview room, his shoulders were tense but that was before you had even entered so you figured it wasn’t necessarily because of your presence. You focused solely on Cragen who had a folder in his hand.

“You needed me?” you asked.

“Yes, it’s well, it involves a case that you worked on before you went undercover,” Cragen started. “Actually, it’s the case that caused you to need to go undercover.”

“Oh?” you felt your breathe freeze in your lungs, you crossed your arms and shifted from foot to foot unable to stay still as an anxious energy filled you. “What-what about it?” You could feel Rafael’s eyes on you, you didn’t even want to know what the look on his face was, you refused to look at him.

“Zac Cooper is demanding he speaks to an ADA about a deal to change his sentence,” Rafael answered for Cragen, bringing your attention to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” anger filled you as you turned to Rafael, disbelief clear as day on your face. “That son of a bitch hurt so many women, what could he possibly have to offer that would even make us consider lessening his sentence or anything else.” Rafael was not surprised by your reaction, he had read over the case notes and when he got to your reports and your testimony from the trial he was suddenly hit with guilt for how he responded to your apology and how he hadn’t made any effort to close the distance that was between the two of you.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” Cragen brought your attention back to him, holding a hand up stalling Rafael from answering you. “I wanted you to go with Barba and speak with him.” The anger that was billowing inside, slowly simmered back down at the thought of being in the same room as that man.  You breathed deeply looking at Cragen.

“Me?”

“I know that this case was difficult for you but you know it best, you’ll have a better idea of the relevance of the information he has,” Cragen answered. “If he knows-”

“I get it,” you interrupted. “I’ll do it. Counsellor, when would you like to leave?”

“Now if possible,” Barba answered.

“I’ll grab my things, I’ll drive,” you looked back at Cragen, getting the nod to leave.

“A word Counsellor,” Cragen stopped Rafael from leaving. “This will be difficult for them. I ask that you keep an eye on them and if Viper looks like it is getting to much for them please remove them from the situation.”

“I’ve read the police reports and their testimony,” Rafael admitted. “I will keep my eye on them, but I doubt they will listen if I try to make them leave.”

“You’d be surprised,” Cragen smiled. “Viper isn’t necessarily scared of Zac Cooper but it is the closest I have seen. Perhaps, you could use the drive to put this tension in the past, and get to know them. I would rather like to no longer have to deal with the two of you. As would Olivia.”

“Noted,” Rafael nodded. He left the office noting that you were talking to Nick whose face was pinched and angry. He looked over your shoulder and glared at Rafael. “Detective, I shall wait at the elevator for you.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this,” he overheard Nick imploring you. “Especially with him.”

Rafael shook his head once he was out of sight, he had noticed that Nick had been hovering around you anytime he had been at the station in the past two weeks. Even with as little interaction that the two of you had, he knew that you wouldn’t appreciate the hovering, you seemed like the type of person who appreciated people showing that they cared and were concerned but not overdoing it. Rafael leant against the wall, scrolling through his phone in an attempt to get the image of you from Cragen’s office out of his head. He had never seen you like that, it looked like you had frozen at the mention of Coopers name and the thought of having to see and speak with him. But when you had heard that he wanted a deal that fire was back, your face was so expressive that Rafael could see the rage but also the trepidation that you were feeling. He had to admire your dedication to the job that you were willing to accompany him to speak with Cooper, even though what Cragen said was correct, you had the best chance at knowing if Cooper was bullshitting.

“I’ll be fine Nick,” you said, a hard edge to your voice from his comments before Rafael had walked past. Implying that you needed someone else to be with you to handle Cooper. “I know what I am doing and I don’t appreciate you acting like I’m so fragile.”

Nick raised his hands, face open and pleading but you wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. You were getting a little tired of Nick coddling you, he didn’t do it all the time but when he did it was almost too much. You knew you had kinda lost it in-front of him but if he truly wanted to help you he’d ask you how, not assume you needed your hand held or to be protected. You walked away, knowing you needed to be calm for the trip to were Zac Cooper was being held, and for your interaction with him. But most importantly you didn’t want to make the situation between you and Barba worse. You walked around the corner to see Rafael leaning against the wall next to the elevators, one hand in his pants pocket and the other tapping away at his phone. You faltered in your next step at the sight before shaking your head lightly and continuing towards him. He looked up hearing your footsteps, putting away his phone as he faced the elevator and hit the button.

“It’s a bit of a drive, have you had lunch yet?” you asked, voice a bit tense. Rafael glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noting the tension in your shoulders and your hands periodically clenching, fingers rubbing against your palm. He had noticed a similar motion just before you had testified on the stand during the O’Neil case, he found his eyes trailing back up your arm, scanning your neck noticing a small freckle just under your jaw. “Counsellor?”

“Not yet,” he quickly answered focusing away from you, ignoring the feeing in his chest. “Maybe we could get some quick take away and eat in the car?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Sandwiches? There’s a good place just down the road?” you both stepped into the elevator having to crowd a little close due to there being a few people in there already.

“Sandwiches are good,” Rafael felt extremely awkward being pressed so close to you. He wanted to try and talk about the tension but figured it might be better to do that in the car rather than a crowded elevator or perhaps it would be better to not do it at all. “I’ll buy.” You turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, not realising how close the two of you were, the action bringing your cheek rather close to his lips.

“You don’t have to do that,” you whispered, a little red darkening your cheeks. You couldn’t turn your head back, eyes stuck on his, your gaze flickered down and noticed that his cheeks were tinged with red. His chin also showing signs of stubble, making you wonder if he hadn’t had time to shave that morning. A small part of your brain thinking about the way it would feel and you cut that train of thought right off.

“I know,” Rafael nodded. “But you’re driving.” Good, a distraction.

“And that equals to you buying lunch?” you raised an eyebrow a teasing lilt to your voice that Rafael had only heard when you talk to the others. It had never been directed at him before and frankly he didn’t quite know how to respond to it. You grinned when he didn’t answer before the doors opened. “Come on Counsellor, cars this way.” You walked towards your car, not looking back to see if he was following.

Rafael felt a smile slowly pull at his lips, he had noticed Viper’s cheeks had turned redder before they turned away. Maybe it wouldn’t be as difficult to work past the last few weeks of tensions and misunderstandings. Even if they could only become civil with no tension suffocating any room the two of them were in, would be progress. He continued to ignore the pleasant warmth that started in his stomach when they had been pressed close together, just as he had ignored every other odd feeling after seeing the detective and the splash of disappointment when they ignored him or left the building entirely when he had gone down to the station.

--

Rafael did end up paying for lunch refusing to take any cash from you or take your card, he chuckled when he got back in the car and you were pouting as you drove away.

“Do you want yours now?” he asked holding your sandwich in his hand.

“Ah, maybe wait till I’m out of the city, less likely to need both my hands on short notice,” you responded sending him a tight lip smile.

“Smart, wouldn’t want to crash,” he nodded. “Do you mind if I start?”

“Course not, go nuts,” you smiled voice lined with amusement. “Would you mind opening my drink though? Little thirsty.”

Rafael nodded twisting the lid of your lemonade off and handing it to you, replacing the lid after you handed it back. Rafael started eating, and he knew that he would have to go to that little deli more often, this sandwich was one of the best he had had in a while. He watched the traffic as you expertly got them out of the city and onto the road to the prison, your fingers tapping the steering wheel intermittently. He reached down into the bag pulling your sandwich out and undid the wrapper enough for you to be able to eat it without too much difficulty.

“Here, should be okay for you to eat now,” he suggested holding it out. “And you should eat something.” You looked over at him briefly, noticing a different look in his eyes from the other few times you had seen him. You sighed but nodded and took the sandwich.

“I’m guessing Cap and the case files gave you a little understanding of how much I do not want to be in the same room with Cooper,” you muttered taking a bite of food, hand on the wheel tightening its grip causing your knuckles to go white.

“A little, he did tell me to keep an eye on you and remove you from the room if it looks like it’s too much,” Rafael answered, deciding honesty was the way forward between the two of you.

“Hmm, that sounds like Cragen,” you nodded. “Though…rather honest of you to tell me that.

“Figured you would have some idea that Cragen told me to if I needed to remove you,” he shrugged. “So, why bother keeping quiet about it, makes no sense.”

“Fair enough,” you snorted taking another bite of your sandwich. You felt your stomach rebel against the food that was in your stomach and started trying to wrap it back up before two hands took it out of yours and wrapped it back up. “Thanks.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to make of this Rafael, the one that was nice, you figured this side of him was what Olivia mostly saw but you weren’t entirely sure why now of all times he decided to show you that side, unless it did make perfect sense cause he read the case files. You hoped that he wasn’t being nice to you just because of what he read, you didn’t think that was the kind of person he was but you weren’t sure. At least maybe this could be how the two of you become civil at least, you just weren’t sure how to respond to his kindness. Your skin tingled a little from where his fingers had brushed yours when he took your sandwich, and the close proximity in the car wasn’t helping whatever happened in the elevator to disappear. You had determinedly ignored how you reacted to his presence since the night you got drunk, you also refused to acknowledge whatever happened between you and Nick. Which definitely wasn’t helping with the whole Nick situation and his hovering either. You were never any good at that kind of thing and you hoped it would just pass and frizzle out.

“You ate more then I thought you would,” Rafael smiled handing your drink over to you without having to be asked. “Drink a little more might help.”

“Thanks,” you stook took small sips before handing it back. “Look…the thing with Cooper isn’t just because of what is in the case files but also what happened as a result of that case. That year undercover was…difficult and I’m worried that I will fall back on some habits I created during that time.”

Rafael blinked, a little surprised that you were being open about the issue, especially since it regarded the undercover job that everyone else had said you rarely talk about. But he remined himself that in your first meeting you had fallen back on one of those habits and he wondered if you wanted him to know a little bit more about that. Rafael bit his tongue holding back the snarky response he so desperately wanted to say but a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Olivia told him to hold it that progress was being made and until that progress had been finalised perhaps being snarky wasn’t the best idea.

“Olivia said you rarely talk about that time,” Rafael said instead. “I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like. What kind of habits?”

“Really, really bad ones,” you took a deep breath. “I was…an enforcer for a lack of better word. Meant to keep the women…girls in line and eventually some of the other enforcers as well. To get to that position took time and I had to show the boss that I was tough enough to handle men as well as the women, I couldn’t show that what was happening, what I was allowing to happen got to me. I had to become a cold hard bitch, who could intimidate anyone and who wasn’t afraid to dole out punishment. The FBI was aware of the lengths I would have to go and ensured me that I was covered. They were looking to take down a massive operation that was starting to look at going international big time, instead of just taking girls from other countries they were looking at having rings in other countries and taking girls from the US to those countries.”

Rafael was not expecting you to be that open with him, to hear your voice go dead as you talked about your role and why you had to create these bad habits you keep talking about. He felt dread swell in his stomach as you changed and he wondered if this was a glimpse of the person you had to become.

“Viper, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” Rafael’s voice had turned incedingly soft. You hadn’t ever heard him refer to you as Viper before and that jolt managed to bring you back.

“It’s fine, my psych said it would be good to allude to some of things I had to do to others, the only people outside of the team of FBI agents that knows anything about it is my psych and Olivia,” you told him risking a quick glance at him. “Not even Cragen, sure they can all at least guess but I have never point blank told them.”

“Why me?”

“Honestly? Probably because you don’t know me, and you didn’t know me before so you are the least likely to look at me differently and even if you did…it wouldn’t hurt as much as the others,” you explained. “Finn and Nick have done undercover work but…I don’t think….honestly Cassidy would probably understand better than them but I don’t really get along with him and he doesn’t like to talk about it either. Olivia doesn’t look at me differently, but honestly I think Liv is, well, she’s…”

“Liv,” Rafael offered.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I think I get it, well, mostly,” Rafael turned to look at you fully. “Can I ask how the case with Cooper led to your undercover job?”

“Cooper was a supplier to these guys,” you explained. “The FBI had been watching him but it dropped off after a while as they considered other suppliers to be more….important in taking down the operation. We had no idea about any of that, we had a girl brought in by an off duty nurse she had signs of serve abuse and markings on her wrists that indicated she had been chained. We got her to talk and she eventually gave us Coopers name and the name of the woman who was to take her to the boss.

‘We got the both of them and apparently she was going to be a new enforcer and no-one from the group had met her before. Apparently the enforcer was meant to bring a number of new girls with her and it was going to be a test to see how well the girls behaved when they were brought in. The enforcer was killed in the take down and the FBI came storming in and demanded to know what we thought we were doing, because of course they did. When we worked out that none of the girls had seen the enforcer the FBI decided it was an opportunity and I volunteered to do it.”

“So, Cooper might have more information on the group?” Rafael asked.

“Maybe but he was significantly low down on the totem pole, he was the one they went do for girls when they were desperate,” you explained fingers tapping faster against the steering wheel. “The only reason I can see him wanting to tell us something he held back before is because he heard about the take down and is worried that if any of them ended up in the same prison as him they’ll retaliate. Since technically he is the one who sent me there.”

You could feel your chest starting to tighten as you struggled to breath, your vision started to narrow down and you knew immediately it was another panic attack. You swiftly pulled off the road and killed the engine, your hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

“Viper?” Rafael’s voice was confused from the sudden action, he turned towards you, hands poised in the air, unsure if he was allowed to touch you, he recognised the signs of a panic attack, having aided Olivia through some before but he didn’t know if you would welcome his help all things considered.

“So-sorry,” you gasped out eyes tight as tears started to fall down your cheeks. “Give-give me a mo-moment.”

“It’s okay, take your time,” Rafael’s voice still had the same soft cadence that it had during your previous conversation. Seeing that you were still struggling to control your breathing he decided to through caution to the wind. You could yell at him later, which would be a significant improvement from this. He reached out slowly, his long fingers gently wrapping around your wrist closest to him, his other hand gently covering yours over the wheel. He eased your grip off and brought your hand towards himself, eyes never leaving your face.

 When Rafael first touched you, you thought he would tap out a rhythm like Liv had done to help you focus on something else, and to try and match your breathing to. But that wasn’t what he did. You felt your breathe stutter even more in your chest when he placed your hand over his chest, right above where his heart was beating. Covering your fingers with one of his hands, his other placed itself over the back of your hand and finally tapped his fingers in time with his heart beating under your hands. You slowly turned your head towards him, shocked by the softness of his eyes as they searched your face looking for signs of something.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Steady strong presses of his fingers forced your attention to his hands. Your eyes slowly moved away from his and focused where you could feel a steady beat. Rafael closely controlled his breathing, exaggerating as he pulled air into his lungs and held it for five seconds before releasing it. With your hand on his chest you could feel the raise and fall as he breathed, that combined with the tapping and the sound of Rafael’s breathing allowed your focus to zero in on him. And as your breathe slowly started to match his, as your vision slowly come back in focus and you felt the constriction on your lungs release you noticed a few other things. His scent, you had never been close enough to notice it before but the cologne he wore filled your nose as you breathed. It was a little bit spicy and under the cologne there was something distinctly him. All Rafael. And you couldn’t help but think how nice it was. How almost warm and welcoming the scent was as you came back. Your cheeks heated up even more, as your eyes lifted away from your hand and back up to his soft warm eyes, that were watching you in concern.

“Hey, there you are,” his voice soothed you. “How are you?”

“Better,” you nodded. “Um…thanks.” You tugged a little on the hand he still held oh so gently against his chest. He seemed to startle a little, his cheeks tinging pink a little as he let go. You except him to release your hand as if he had been burnt but instead he let it go and placed it back in your lap for you.

“Of course,” he smiled.

“I…I don’t normally, I mean,” you groaned rubbing your face to remove the left over tears. “I have only had on other attack like that and Liv helped me through it. She said I should keep an eye out for things that are similar when I have them.”

“If it would help, maybe we could discuss it,” Rafael suggested. “Try and see if anything was similar this time. What was happening when you had your first one?”

You opened your mouth before remembering exactly what had been happening when you had your first attack a few weeks ago. You bit your lip, looking over at him, and his earnest eyes. You felt like telling him could cause whatever had been happening on this drive to go backwards.

“Um, well, it was when I was at the squad room with the others, just before we got a call for the first victim of our current case,” you started fingers twisting around themselves. Rafael nodded about to say something before he stopped, thinking back to that day and realising that that was when Liv had come to him and talk about how he had reacted to your apology.

“Had Liv just told you about her conversation with me earlier that day?” he asked, gut clenching at the thought that he had caused you to have an attack. You couldn’t answer that, at least not with words, so you just nodded. “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t, you don’t have to apologise,” you interrupted. “Don’t think it was just that.”

“Oh?” Rafael didn’t know what else to say, his eyes searched your face the look in them caused you to look away quickly. Your hands scrubbed your face hard taking in a deep breathe. “Does it have something to do with Amaro?”

“What?!” your voice was a little shrill causing Rafael to snort before quickly covering it with a cough. “No, I, why would you? No!”

“Alright, alright,” Rafael laughed. “I just thought, he had been around you a lot in the last few weeks.”

“Hmm,” you couldn’t answer more than that, not wanting to think on it. You leaned back against the head rest closing your eyes and taking a deep breathe. “We should continue on.”

---

You  handed over your gun, hands trembling a little. Rafael, stood behind you watching you carefully, as you were both lead to the interview room. Rafael watched in fascination as you closed your eyes, taking long deep breathes, your fingers tapped against your thigh in what he thought was a random pattern. Taking one last breath you squared your shoulders, just as the guards led Cooper into the room.

“Well, well, Detective, you look good,” Cooper grinned looking you up and down which caused your stomach to squirm. Rafael felt his anger flare a little at the predatory look on Coopers face as he leered at you. He opened his mouth to get his attention away from you and to try and get this over with as quickly as possible.

“What’s this so called important information you have?” Rafael’s eyes shot back to you at the tone of your voice. Your face was blank, eyes cold with a simmering of anger in them.

“I want a deal,” Cooper demanded.

“That will depend on what you have to tell us and if it is useful,” Rafael stated, causing Cooper to focus on him. His eyes looked him up and down taking in the three piece suit, before they dragged away again dismissing him quickly, a cruel twist of his lips told Rafael exactly what this sick man thought of him. Cooper turned his back on them both walking around the table to the side facing the wall.  

“Aw, you must be the lawyer,” Cooper grinned taking a seat at the table, Rafael frowned. This man seemed to believe this to be a joke. “Well, before that. I want a transfer to a low security prison with protective detail.”

“You’re a violent sex trafficker low security is not going to happen,” Rafael scoffed, taking a seat opposite Cooper. “Protective detail can be arranged and we can consider a transfer to a different prison but it will not be low security.”

You had stayed standing but had moved closer to the table standing next to Rafael eyes zeroed in on Cooper watching his every move, muscles coiled and waiting in case he makes a wrong move. Rafael glanced up at you before focusing back on Cooper, he took out a writing pad and a pen.

“Come on lovely, you know I am not that violent,” Cooper cooed leaning forward on the table towards you.

“You cracked open a sixteen year old girls skull,” Viper stated. “I’d say that’s violent. And you’re stalling. I doubt you have anything of value to tell us.”

“I have information about the people in charge,” he pouted. “And you don’t think that’s value. Detective, shame on you.”

“Oh really?” you asked raising an eyebrow. “You were a trafficker that the ring went to when they were desperate. You were so low on the totem pole that the FBI deemed you unimportant.”

“Well, if you believe that that means the plan worked,” Cooper smirked leaning back in his chair, folding his arms.

“Plan?” Rafael asked, sharing a glance with you.

“Yeah, they knew the FBI were on to them and they wanted to make them believe I wasn’t important-”

“Bullshit,” you interrupted with a snort. “I was with that group for a year and all they did was insult and demean your name. You were a laughing stock.”

Cooper’s smirk fell and his eyes narrowed as he lent forward again staring you down. Rafael felt a tension in the air, he glanced behind him checking to ensure that there was still a guard somewhere close by.

“So you have nothing,” you snarled. “You are just a coward. Counsellor this was a waste of our time.”

Rafael stood up collecting his things as you moved around to his side stepping slightly in-front of him as he started to walk towards the cell door. He glanced back to see that you were walking backwards, keeping Cooper in your eyesight the entire time, as he had stood up from the table and had edged around the corner. Rafael motioned for the guard to open the door.

“We’re done,” he said.

“No we are not!” Cooper snarled taking a few steps forward. The guards quickly entered holding Cooper back and cuffing him again. “Listen you fuckers we are not done here! You will pay for this detective!”

“Not before you,” you smirked before walking away with Rafael. The shouted insults from Cooper grew quiet the further you got.

“Well, that was…” Rafael trailed off.

“Yep, sorry you had to make a wasted trip,” you muttered as you collected your gun.

“It happens,” Rafael shrugged, the two of you making your out of the prison to where the car was parked. “Do you think he really believed he had something?”

“I think he was hoping he could trick us into thinking it. He had no idea just how deep I gotten into that ring,” you sighed rubbing the back of your neck. “Part of me wishes he did have something but another part of me is glad he didn’t. That same part wishes that one of the members will be put in this prison with him. So he can feel even the smallest bit of fear. Fuck, I hate that I feel like that.” You leant against the side of the car, hands rubbing your face before running through your hair and pulling it lightly.

“You shouldn’t, he’s a horrible person but it shows the kind of person you are that you feel that way,” Rafael reached a hand out, hesitating only slightly before placing it on your arm and giving it a light squeeze. He felt the muscle under his hand and couldn’t help squeezing again without realising it. You lowered your hands, looking briefly at the hand that was still on your arm before following to the owner who was once again staring at you with those soft green eyes. The way he was looking at you made you feel warm, safe and…cared for.

“Thanks,” you smiled, cheeks once again heating. You were starting to get a little tired of that occurring around this man. Rafael smiled softly, squeezing your arm one last time before letting go, already you missed the warmth and the feel. You coughed a little pushing away from the car and standing up straight. “We should probably start heading back, let the Captain know there was nothing of value.”

Rafael nodded walking around the car, his hand that had been touching your arm flexed he could swear he felt a little tingle but shrugged it off. The smile was still on his face, although the reason for the trip up here was a waste of time he didn’t think the trip itself was a waste of time and he knew that Cragen would also see it that way. The tension between you two appeared to be gone and he just hoped it would stay that way.

“Well, maybe it wasn’t an entire waste of time,” he shrugged wanting to test the waters, and also to see if he could get that teasing lilt back.

“Hm, no I suppose not,” you agreed, a small cheeky grin on your face. “We didn’t kill each other on this trip, so the others will be disappointed. Except for maybe Liv, she definitely bet on us dealing with our shit.”

“Oh, she definitely did,” Rafael laughed. “Part of me wants to mess with them a little but I believe Liv may actually kill me if we did that.” You shot him a look as you pulled out onto the road, seeing the mischievous glint in his eye. You snorted, rolling your eyes and focusing back on the road as the traffic was a little busier than normal.

“I reckon we could take her,” you added after a few minutes of silence.

“We?” Rafael asked, eyes still watching your face, revelling in the banter. He was excited, banter was something he adored, a way in which he communicated often, and being able to do that with you after the weeks of issues the two of you had had him almost bouncing for joy. It was a similar feeling he got when the other detectives joined in on his banter but there was something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on when you turned to look at him, the cheeky grin now a smile. He felt his heart almost stop when you winked at him before looking away.

“Duh Barba,” you snarked. “Of course, you would be sacrificed for my survival but it would be a team effort.”

“Sacrificed?” Rafael barked.

“Hmm, I would proclaim my innocence. ‘No Liv, I had no idea he was going to pretend we still wanted to kill each other, I swear,’” your voice went up a notch.

“Very convincing,” Rafael drawled. “Liv wouldn’t buy it.”

“Yeah she would. Liv adores me and I am the picture of innocence,” you protested.

“Right, the picture of innocence who looks like they could kill someone with their finger,” Rafael teased.

“…Well, I never,” you pouted as a giggle bubbled in your chest.

“Amaro would probably save you anyway,” Rafael spoke without thinking. He bit his tongue hoping he hadn’t just pushed to far, he just remembered the way you reacted the last time Amaro was mentioned.

“Don’t need him saving me,” you scoffed, the teasing tone sounding more forced now.

“Can’t imagine you would,” Rafael agreed trying to salvage the moment. “You could run rings around him with your eyes closed.”

You didn’t respond to that but your smile was a little less forced then it was before and Rafael counted that as a win. He let the conversation drop, not one to force a topic to continue once it had reached it’s natural conclusion. The smirk on his face didn’t fall as the silence filled the car, it wasn’t awkward, wasn’t necessarily the type of comfortable he has with Liv but it was nice. It was a start.

[avitute]

i just want an elliot stabler x reader that’s NOT smut

yes he’s one manly man but i want a HUG. i want ANGST. i want FLUFF.

i need x reader recs PLEASE i am STARVED

[minnesota-multiphasic]

ELLIOT & CRAGEN + TEXTPOSTS

[flaminghotel202020]

Just some posted notes drawings I did in my book today. SVU characters as demons and angels because I can and I will.

Edit: I replaced my Sona with Warner and Cragen!

[mikelogan]

Two in the back, one in the face. That’s not a pro. Not a thinker.

[barrygeuse]

having svu on in the background sometimes feels like i am falling asleep or doing my own thing but i am in good company. olivia and elliot laugh quietly together just outside my door. john talks to someone on the phone by the foot of my bed, keeping his voice soft. i can hear the clicking of capt. cragen’s keyboard while he works in the front room. it is lovely

[raulesparzascheerleader]

i cry every time i watch captain cragen get arrested and treated like a criminal. i cannot even watch him get examined for evidence. he really was like a dad to his squad. he was tough, but he truly cared. 🫶🏽

[enigmatist17]

Cragen no 😭😭😭

I was dreading the episode he would leave, and it hurts so much 😭😭😭

I love you Cap, no one will ever be as high as you are 💔💔💔

[specialvalentinesunit]

[aesthetic--mood]

Amanda Rollins Aesthetic

[aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide]

A/N: I know it's been a long time, and some of you decided that Evocations was over for you before we rounded the final curve ... but I am still determined to finish it, bc Cabenson deserves it. This story means something to me, even though Cabenson isn't canonically endgame. So, here's the next piece. There's not too much left to cover past this, so hopefully I can do the rest of it justice, too.

Rating: 14+

Spoilers: Scorched Earth, Lost Reputation, Above Suspicion

Trigger/content warnings: references to Domestic Abuse/Violence (M/F), alcohol, Domestic Homicide including graphic description of a crime scene, nausea and vomiting

Evocations: XXV

They say you can never start over the way it was, but for just a little while, they beat the odds. Somehow, it was 2002 again, with Alex in Olivia's bed at the end of the day, it was joints shared on the roof in each others' arms, talking about their years spent apart. There were no rough edges, no fighting. Just fucking, laughter, good food, and solid sleep.

When the world once again shifted beneath Olivia's feet, for the first time it was not Alexandra who left her.

Elliot disappears as though twelve years together evaporated into the aether. No words, no phone call, not a post-it note or a 'kiss my ass' to dream on. At the end of the day that she finds out from Cragen, she walks into her apartment to find Alex making dinner.

"Elliot quit," she tells the blonde, hands fisting her hips in an attempt to push the tremble in her voice down her arms and back into her body.

Alexandra stopped dicing just shy of severing a fingertip in surprise. Biting her lip in dismay at the emotion on Liv's face, she wiped her hands and came around to the brunette, enveloping her in a hard hug, which lasted a long time.

Alex tried what she could to dispel the dark cloud that Stabler's ghost wrapped around Liv; she pulled out every trick she knew from all their stuttered years, making time for wine nights, for trying new restaurants, for black & white film festivals. They were still happy together, but the blonde knew that something inside Olivia was broken, something that all the quality time in the world was never going to fix.

Not everyone's heart is made whole by the love of just one soulmate. Part of the identity Liv had carved out of herself was made to fit into Elliot Stabler, and his absence took up as much space as his presence ever had.

Stabler had been Liv's anchor, and now Alex knew that Olivia was adrift at sea.

.

.

Throughout 2012, ADA coverage was a three-way split for SVU between Cabot, Novak and Cutter. When one of them was handling a sex crimes case, the others were handed cases in other departments. Late that year, Alex got a call telling her to meet a client at the hospital.

A pack of bustling ER nurses parted to reveal a battered middle-aged woman who looked like she had lost a battle with the not-so-jolly Green Giant. For a moment, from a distance, she looked so much like Olivia that Alexandra's heart jumped.

"Hi," she says quietly when she gets within speaking distance. "I'm ADA Alex Cabot. What's your name?"

The scared brunette looked at Alex, but the gaze was hollow. "Betty," she answers through swollen lips, "Betty Bluestone."

When Alexandra gets home that night, she is poised to start telling Liv about Betty's DV case. But the apartment is dark and silent. A ripple of discontent passes through the blonde for the first time since she returned, and she is immediately uneasy. She doesn't call, or text - opts, instead, to open a bottle of wine and order in something to eat.

Hours later, Olivia finds her swaddled in the heavy throw blanket, asleep in front of some flickering old movie. There is unfinished wine and cold Chinese on the coffee table. The brunette shakes the ADA awake, unaware of all the words that come rushing up out of the sleepy blonde's mind about the beaten woman who looks like her.

Before Alex can form any of them, Liv tells her, "Cragen's been accused of murder."

.

.

They fight with each other, but only in their heads. Olivia dives into saving Cragen, which Alex understands, as Cragen is really the only father Liv has ever known. Alex doesn't budge from the Bluestone case, which Olivia won't forgive.

It makes the Autumn longer, and colder. They don't have much time for just each other - they are ships in the night, passing like ghosts, hulking and silent. Over the weeks, Betty becomes the surrogate for Alex's protection and concern: she checks in constantly, arranges shelter, makes sure there is no contact with Mitch, and preps Betty for court until both their voices crack.

Liv goes to war for Cragen; her years at SVU, and Elliott's abandonment both tangled up in her battle plans. She learns the hard lesson that parental figures are never faultless. She refuses to lose another part of what has made SVU her home.

In the end, both battles are lost.

.

.

"Mitch, no. Leave her alone, let's just go home."

Alex is numb with the cold on the stone steps of the courthouse. Her ears lift at the sound of Betty's plaintive voice.

"I should give that bitch a piece of my mind," Mitch Bluestone rumbles back to his wife.

"I just want to go home. I've missed you."

Alexandra's stomach knots at the words that come out of Betty's mouth. She turns just enough to watch the couple continue down the steps in perfect sync, waiting to see if Mitch will throw a snarl back over his shoulder.

Their day in court had been a disaster. Between Mitch's intimidation from the defense table, and his lawyer tearing Betty apart, it had all gone to hell. It had taken an act of divine intervention to keep Cabot from screaming when Betty had apologized meekly after telling the ADA that she and Mitch were going to "try one more time."

She stood in the cold for long minutes after the Bluestones had disappeared from sight, wishing for a joint, wishing for Liv's calm pragmatism, for anything but the emptiness that the defeat had punched into her. Even if she goes home, she knows she won't find relief, because Cragen is still in lockup. Olivia has slept and showered mostly in the cribs at the precinct for weeks, sending errant text messages when she had an extra three seconds in a minute.

So Alex goes to a bar instead, tossing back martinis that make up the largest portion of her meals for the day. By the time a woman makes eyes at her from across the bar, the blonde is four drinks deep, but allows the woman to buy her one more anyway. She stands up to leave when it's empty, and isn't sure if it's the world that's spinning her on her feet, or the Wheel of Fortune.

Perhaps both.

.

.

Alex wakes in bed in the apartment, with Olivia shaking her insistently. The dull ache of a hangover is a weight at the blonde's temples as she wonders when her lover got home, and if it means Cragen's charges are dropped.

"Lex," the brunette mumbles again, "Alex. Your phone's ringing."

She reaches to the bedside table, doesn't recognize the number, puts it haphazardly to her ear anyway. "Cabot," she muffles out.

"ADA Alexandra Cabot?" The voice on the line is far too awake for the hour, and Alexandra winces.

"Yes."

"We found your card in the effects at our crime scene. Is a Mrs. Elizabeth Bluestone your client?"

Her blue eyes snap open wide as she sits up in the bed. Olivia is already back to sleep and breathing softly. "Yes. Did she ask for me?"

There is an apologetic pause on the line, then: "Uh, no ma'am. She's dead."

.

.

Mitch is arrested and long gone from the scene by the time Alexandra arrives. The one cop car that remains outside has lights but no siren, the blue light illuminating the windows in staggered flashes. The darkened house full of shadows hulked on the lawn in the eerie quiet that follows chaos.

Unlike Olivia, who could flash a badge and push her way in to nearly anywhere, ADA credentials didn't grant Alex much entry. She waited uneasily for someone to fetch the cop in charge so she could get inside, and a younger guy, the one that had called her she presumed, came out to meet her.

"Neighbor called in a Domestic Disturbance," he explained quietly as he lead her into the house, "which escalated to Shots Fired before we even arrived. The husband went quietly enough, but the woman was DOA. We found your card in the pocket of her jeans."

At the end of the hall they turned into the bedroom, and Alex was hit immediately by the tell-tale scents of domestic violence that has reached its climax: sweat, gun powder, and the copper-metal tang of spilled blood. Her stomach lurched, already disquieted by her hangover.

Off the master bedroom there was an ensuite. The light inside it was on, the coroner and a CSI stood near the doorway, trading quiet murmurs between them.

"I don't imagine this was their first fight," the young cop said.

"No," Alex confirmed, her heart racing at the idea of looking inside the bathroom. She took another couple steps forward, then halted again. "Did he say anything?" she asked, "The husband?"

The police officer cleared his throat. The coroner, the CSI, both turned their heads to look at him. "He said . . . he said he wished he'd've had more bullets. Ma'am." He took a breath to tell the tall blonde ADA that she didn't have to go in there, but it was too late - she had closed the distance between herself and the doorway.

Alex swayed on her feet for just a second. Her nostrils flared, heart racing as her pupils dilated with the shock of fight or flight. Blood coated the bathroom tile, parts of the walls, and flecked the porcelain of the fixtures. Betty had dropped where she stood, a freeze-frame of her last moment, eyes wide open and a hole bulls-eyed into her forehead. The blood pooled around her head that had soaked into her dark hair was scattered with bits of brain and scalp and splinters of skull bone.

Mitch had said "I should give that bitch a piece of my mind," earlier that day, but instead had gone home and painted the ensuite with pieces of Betty's.

But the worst part were her eyes.

Not that they were open. Not even that they were dull with the finality of it all.

No, the worst of it was that instead of looking surprised by the turn of events the night had taken, Betty looked as meek and as cautious as she'd looked when apologizing to Alex after court. There was no righteous indignation, no pleading or regret.

Betty Bluestone looked for all the world as if she had been expecting it.

Betty Bluestone looked relieved.

Alexandra didn't see the long pale grey hallway wall, or recall ducking the crime scene tape as she rushed past the cop watching the front door. The next thing her eyes fixed on was the Bluestones' lawn as she threw up whatever was left of her drinks from earlier that evening. Normally, the ADA would be ashamed of such a rookie move, but Alex was past it that night. She was past all of it, perhaps for the first time in her whole life.

As the cold night air seeped into her skin, she thought of all her years at SVU. She thought of her years on the run - from Wisconsin to other made up lives, of all the people and love lost along the way. Then of Africa, of how anything she did there had been little more than a drip in a giant bucket of war and violence that never ended. Alex thought of Holland, of Knopf the cat, of Sky High, of the children she was probably keeping Olivia from having. There was all that loss, all those endings, all the change and activism that she had wanted to achieve.

And there was Betty, getting cold on the bloody bathroom tile.

It wouldn't do.

Not anymore.

.

.

The clean white light from above the stove is the only illumination in the apartment when Olivia gets home the night of the day of Betty Bluestone's death. Cragen is still in lock up. Cassidy had been shot. Her entire world was upside down, and all she wanted was to crawl into Alex's arms and find sleep that wasn't tainted with the impotence of all her efforts.

On the counter across from the semicircle of light was a little dark object that Liv didn't recognize. She stumbled through taking off her shoes as she got closer. Slowly, a faint smile crossed her features as she held the item up into the light, turning it.

It was a set of Nesting dolls, but instead of the traditional Russian doll style, they were painted to look like a female cop in uniform. Liv twisted the doll open to get to the next one, closing the largest and setting it aside. She repeated with the second doll.

The third doll was not a cop.

Liv frowned. The third wooden doll was a likeness of Alex: blonde, court-ready in a formal skirt and jacket combo, her reading glasses on. Then the fourth and fifth dolls went back to cops in uniform. Lastly, even stranger, the tiniest of the dolls was painted as a baby. It was just a tiny, indistinguishable face, swaddled in a white blanket. Olivia used a fingernail to part the seam in the wood and popped it open.

Inside of it was a ring.

Alex's ring.

Olivia had bought it for her for the first birthday they'd spent together after Alexandra's return. It complimented the diamond and rose gold one that the blonde had bought all those years ago.

The finality of it gripped Liv slowly, a tingling numbness that started in her toes and filled her all the way up. It felt familiar, and somehow different all at once.

The Matryoshka doll was Alex's goodbye letter.

Olivia was finally, truly, alone.

TBC

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

The Morning After

So, I am still writing and still alive. Just had a bit of a break due to work being really busy after the Christmas break. 

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, an anxiety attack, death, violence, drugging, kidnapping and violence. It isn’t explicit but is discussed more than it was in the previous chapters. 

Master List

Prompt List

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Tag list: @profoundtyrantharmony​ @wanniiieeee​ @zizzlekwum​​

You woke up with a groan, the pounding in your head reminding you of the mistakes you made last night including your conversation with Rafael and the very strange moment with Nick. You expected the sun light to wake you up but as you looked towards your window you saw the blinds down.

“Thank you Nick,” you muttered.

“No worries,” Nicks amused voice answered from your door way. You shot up, hair a mess and your clothes wrinkled. Oh, thank god you were wearing clothes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked from the mess that was your bed. Apparently you had made a nest at some stage doing the night and nearly cocooned yourself amongst your quilts and pillows.

“Well, I drove you home after you had about five or six shots of vodka after your whiskey,” Nick began walking forward as he fixed the buttons on his sleeves. “And you had fallen asleep in the car, as I carried you up here you had kind of turned into an octopus and wouldn’t let me go. When I tried to remove your grip on me you started to cry and begged me to stay.”

“….I don’t beg,” you pouted rubbing your forehead. “But the rest sounds about right. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be, honestly it was adorable,” Nick smiled. “There’s a glass of water and some pain meds on your side table. Thankfully you woke up with enough time for a shower and breakfast before work. I’ll get started on the food while you grab a shower.”

You stared after Nick as he left and started making noise in the kitchen. You looked at your side table and grabbed for the water and pain killers. You downed the water suddenly feeling very thirsty. After you finished you struggled out of your little nest and made your way to your wardrobe, grabbing your clothes for the day before making your way past the kitchen and to the bathroom.

“God I feel like shit,” you huffed. “I should not have had those shots.”

You struggled through undressing and showering, half way through the pain meds kicked in and you felt somewhat like a human being. Walking out of the bathroom your stomach rumbled at the smell, you took a seat at the Island bench.

“What are you cooking?” You asked. “I didn’t even know I had food that could smell like this.”

“Eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, spiced tomatoes and toast,”  Nick smiled. “You had all of it, I just add flavour.”

“Oh, flavour huh?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, and one day I may cook you a Cuban meal and have you taste some amazing flavour,” Nick said, a cheeky grin on his face as he plated up the food and handed you one. He stood in-front of you eating his. You rolled your eyes, taking a bite and found yourself biting make a moan at the burst of flavour that hit your tongue.

“I can’t even be snarky right now cause this is so fucking good!” You groaned, a sound that was not as bad as it good have been but still made Nick laugh. You looked up at him, he was watching you eat his food with a small, soft smile on his face. You looked away quickly, your face feeling a little warm.

The two of you ate in silence after that, a slow build of awkward silence started and that was something that you weren’t use to with anyone in the squad. You fiddled with your fork as you looked anywhere but Nick before you groaned.

“Alright, what was that about?” Nick asked. “You need some more pain meds?”

“No,” you waved your hand. “I just realised I’m probably gonna have to deal with the ADA soon and I do not know how to handle that.”

“It’ll be okay, I doubt Liv or the Captain will have you be alone with him for a few days,” Nick said picking up your empty plates and placing them in the sink. He turned around leaning against the cabinets and crossing his arms.

“True, but even with other people it will be so tense,” you sighed running your fingers through your hair. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to deal with it, the ball is in his court as far as I am concerned. I will be professional. Speaking off, we should probably get going.”

“Well, that’s mighty adult of you Viper,” Nick snarked. “Did you go through a personality change in the shower?”

“Ha ha very funny Detective, why don’t you take that show on the road,” you suggested getting up to collect your gun and badge, and put your shoes on. You grabbed the jacket hanging on the back of your door and went back to meet Nick at the front door of your apartment. He was sliding on his suit jacket, and you couldn’t help but notice his arms flexing under the shirt he was wearing. You felt your mouth go a little dry before you looked away, really not wanting to get into that and what happened last night at the moment. Nick looked up at that moment and smirked a little when he noticed a slight flush to your cheeks. He schooled his features into his normal smile before you looked back.

“Ready?” he asked. “I’ll drive you in since I am already here.”

“Cheers,” you smiled nudging him out your door, grabbing your keys on the way.

--

“Rafael.” Olivia marched into his office and sat down in the chair in-front of his desk. Rafale slowly put down the paper he was reading and looked up, preparing himself for the look on her face.

“Detective,” Rafael sighed. “Can this not wait un-”

“No, I didn’t let Viper get away with how they acted and I won’t let you,” Olivia interrupted. “It doesn’t matter that you’re not a detective you are apart of our squad.” She leant forward and stared him down. “They apologised, and I know Viper well enough to know that they would have meant it. They also said they talked briefly about their time undercover and that is something they struggle with doing even with me.”

“What?” Rafael asked, looking surprised.

“Whatever they went through was something that seriously affected them and they do not like talking about it, for them to even hint at what they had to do in an attempt to apologise to you says a lot about how sorry they were,” Olivia explained.

Rafael sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, not caring that it almost certainly ruined the way he had styled it that morning, in an attempt to make himself look presentable after his poor decision to drink himself stupid to ignore absolutely everything.

“Look, I’m sure they meant their apology but they did call me an arse and it wasn’t just about the intimidation it was how they acted when I told them that I had no interest in using only a profile to get a warrant,” Rafael explained. “They didn’t respect my choice as the Prosecutor. And they most certainly did not apologise for that.”

“Oh come one Rafi, how many times have I disagreed with you about your choices and pushed for mine?” Olivia asked. “You’re reaching for an explanation for why you treated them the way you did.” She stood up heading towards the door before stopping and turning back. “Viper is the type the person you want on your side, and as a friend. I don’t think there is anything they wouldn’t do for a friend. But on the flip side, continuing to piss them off isn’t great either. Especially, when you have to work with them. Sort your shit out Rafi.”

Rafael watched her leave blinking in disbelief before scoffing and going back to the paper he was reading when she walked in. He did have his shit sorted and no he most certainly was not reaching with his explanation. And fine yes, Olivia did the same thing but he knew Olivia he did not know Viper and that was the difference. He wasn’t overly concerned about having Viper angry at him all the time, he doubted that he would be effected by it much at all they were still a detective for the NYPD and the only that they really could do was just ignore him which suited Rafael fine.  He determinedly ignored the feeling growing in his chest at the thought of Viper not looking at him with those eyes of fire, he didn’t understand it at all and refused to even consider that  it was partly quilt. Guilt at the look in their eyes before they had turned around.

He gave up on concentrating on the paper he was reading and got up, deciding that he might go for a walk and get another coffee. He definitely needed one and the noise of Manhattan might help to drown out his own thoughts.

--

Finn raised an eyebrow as you and Nick walked in together. You knew instantly what Finn was thinking due to the fact that Nick was wearing the same clothes as yesterday but before you could even consider opening your mouth to cut that line of thought off at the knees, Finn’s face changed to a cheeky smirk.

“Doing the walk of shame Nick?” he asked walking up to him and lightly tugging on his tie. To your absolute horror Nick didn’t refute that statement instead he laughed, lightly shoving him away.

“A gentleman never tells Finn,” Nick teased. “Not that you would know much about that.”

You groaned lightly walking to your desk, ignoring Finn’s indignant response to Nicks implication.  Throwing your jacket onto your chair you sent a glare Nick’s way, no amusement on you face at his Joke. It hit a little too close to the moments that happened between the two of you last night and this morning, something you still did not even want to acknowledge.

“Don’t be an arse Nick,” you said. “Finn, nothing happened. He slept on the couch after making sure I got home after last night.” Finn raised his hands in the air in surrender but still sent a knowing look towards Nick.

“Yeah, how are you feeling?” Amanda asked coming up to your desk looking at the dark circles under your eyes. “You went pretty hard.”

“I honestly feel like death warmed over,” you groaned, flopping into your chair and laying your head on the desk. “Never let me drink like that again.”

“I’d say you were allowed last night,” Finn added his two cents. “Just don’t throw up on me and we’re all good.”

“I don’t throw up,” you muttered.

“Lucky,” Amanda said going back to her desk and looking through her messages. “Oh, by the way Captain wanted to see you.”

“Thanks so much for waiting for me to sit down before telling me,” you snarked getting up. Amanda grinned as you past her.

“You’re welcome.”

Cragen was sitting behind his desk going through the paperwork that came with being a Captain, he had to get everything in order for a Commstat meeting that was coming up to quickly for his liking. He just hoped that no complicated cases came up that would give 1PP a reason to come down hard on SVU. He looked up as you knocked on his door motioning for you to come in.

“Close the door,” he said.

“Oh, it’s one of those meetings is it?” you asked going through everything you have done and trying to see if you had done anything that could have given Cragen a headache, apartment the Rafael situation.

“Probably not the kind you’re thinking of,” he smiled. “But I doubt you will like it all the same.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you took a sit in-front his desk, unsure of what he could mean. You opened your mouth before closing it again.

“Wait, please don’t tell me I need to go an see a therapist or something?” You asked. “I did all of that before coming back and was signed off on everything.”

“No nothing like that,” Cragen waved away your concern. “Though I did want to check in. Olivia updated me about the situation with ADA Barba.”

“Ah,” you muttered rubbing your forehead. You were definitely going to need some more painkillers. “I apologised to him but he apparently decided it wasn’t good enough. I had already decided this morning that I would act in a professional manner with him but nothing beyond that. I think you can find that acceptable?”

Cragen smiled, unsure why he was so surprised that you had already made the decision to behave as he was going to ask you to. He had watched you over the last few weeks since you came back and noticed that although you were still very much the Viper you had been before you left for your undercover work you were also very different. You were quieter, even softer with the victims then you had been before and from your interviews with Paul O’Neil even tougher on the accused.

“That is acceptable,” Cragen agreed. He was concerned for you, not just because of the Rafael situation but also because of the look you would occasionally get when you thought no-one was paying attention. Your face would became entirely blank and you eyes became empty, losing any of the life that normally resided there. Olivia had brought it to him earlier as well and the two of them had agreed that they would do everything they could to help you through it.

“Wonderful, is that everything?” You asked half raising out of your seat waiting to be dismissed.

“Yes, that was all,” Cragen nodded. “But Viper, do try not to glare at Barba. I know you will act professional but we both know that doesn’t mean you won’t glare at him.”

A small sheepish smile graced your face before you wiped it off and nodded, drawing a cross over your heart before leaving. You heard Cragen’s chuckle following you out. Amanda raised an eyebrow as you came back out, you sent her a small smile letting her know everything was all good.

Olivia had come in during the time you had been in Cragen’s office and the look on her face did not bode well. You were unsure if you wanted to ask her about it but the option was taken out of your hands by Finn. You shouldn’t have been surprised, Finn was one of the biggest shit stirrers you had ever met.

“I take it your morning conversation with Barba did not go well,” Finn said an eyebrow raised. “Did he even give a reason for not accepting our Vipers apology?” You felt your heard clench at Finn calling you “theirs”, as in the teams. It had been a so long since you had felt the feeling of home, SVU always gave you that feeling. And it helped you to know that they considered you theirs.

“Don’t start Finn,” Olivia sighed before turning to you. “Apparently he thought you should have also apologised for demanding that he look at your profile and not just intimidating him.”

“You can’t be serious?” Amanda scoffed. “We have all pushed our opinions on a case onto him before and never once has he acted like this.”

“That man is a real piece of work,” Nick growled. The others looked at him surprise, Nick always had a difficult relationship with Rafael but never had they had him speak in such a tone about him before.

You didn’t even know how to process what Olivia had told you. You had thought that perhaps you hadn’t apologised properly but it turns out it was about something entirely different, something that you had done with previous ADA’s and knew that the rest of the squad did as well. It was so common among cops and lawyers, arguing over the way to approach a case and getting warrants. You breathed in deeply closing your eyes and focusing on your heart beat. You could feel it picking up in speed and not in a fun way. Perhaps you weren’t as okay as you told the Captain.

“Viper,” Olivia’s voice was quiet in your ear and a moment after you registered the feeling of her hand on your arm. “Why don’t we go outside for a minute?” You nodded, breathing slow and steady trying to control your breath and heart.

You didn’t make eye contact with the others as you left allowing Olivia to guide you outside. You lent against the wall of the building, digging your fingers into the brick work to try and ground yourself. You felt Olivia take one of your wrist and tap out a rhythm, a slow steady rhythm. Your world narrowed down to that tapping, to the feel of Olivia’s hand on yours. You felt your breaths start to match the tapping, and between the texture of the brickwork and Olivia’s tapping you felt your heart rate slow back to a normal regular pace.

“Better?” Olivia asked, when you opened your eyes and noticed that she was standing directly in-front of you, blocking out the view of other people.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” you said voice a little out of breath. “I’ve-I’ve never experienced that before. That was-”

“An anxiety attack,” Olivia nodded. “They’re definitely not fun especially the first one when there is no warning of it coming on.”

“You’ve had one?” You asked.

“Yeah, after...after Lewis,” she didn’t need to finish. You felt a rage building in your chest at that man. God you wished you had been here during that time. You wouldn’t have let that man live after what he did to her. “Do you have an idea of what could have triggered it? Working that out can help.”

“I don’t know honestly,” you answered. “It just happened.”

“Well, we’ll keep an eye on things and maybe we can work it out,” Olivia smiled. She squeezed your wrist once more before letting go.  Just before the two of entered the building again her phone rang. You waited for her to hang up, the look on her face telling you that there was another case.

“A body was found in Central Park, it was dragged out of the water,” Olivia informed you already typing away at her phone. “Come on, I told Cragen we would take it.” You nodded following her to your car. You hadn’t even realised that she had grabbed your jacket until she passed it to you. You slipped it on.

“Any other details?” You asked sliding into the passenger seat.

“The victim is a man, and looks like he was cut up pretty badly, unsure if there was any sexual assault passed that but with the body being in the water the chances of Warner finding any DNA is slim,” Olivia answered.

“Cutting up could mean they were the one that assaulted someone and this was retribution,” you started theorising. “But of course it is also used by people attempting to remove others sexual desire.”

“Warner will be able to tell us more and hopefully they’re in the system,” Olivia answered.

--

You and Olivia arrived back to the station ready to catch the others up on what you found at the crime scene. It was going to be a difficult gruesome case and you hoped that they weren’t going to be any other victims but you already knew such a hope was a lost cause. Although the attack on the victim was brutal it didn’t give the appearance of someone who knew the victim, there were markings on the wrist and ankles that spoke of restraints. There would be more, and there was no way this was the unsubs first victim, there were probably others that haven’t been identified or found. Your first task was to search through ViCAP.

“What have we got this time?” Cragen asked walking out of his office as you gathered the others around the table and tv area.

“Not much to go on yet, a male victim in his mid to late 30s, Warner estimated his death happened some time around midnight two days ago but they had only been put in the water last night,” Olivia answered. “He was cut up around the top of his thighs and along his genitals but no removal occurred.”

“The unsub most likely didn’t know the victim beyond maybe a few days max, they would most likely have used a ruse to lure them, they also bound the victim at the ankles and wrist,” you took over. “Warner said the blade used to make the cuts was jagged, potentially to make it more painful, Warner is going to do a full blood work but doesn’t think she will find anything. So, we might have no way of knowing if the victim was drugged at all.”

“There was signs of penetration, but Warner doesn’t think she will get any DNA, and it looks like perhaps the knife was used as well,” Olivia finished. “Waiting for any results to come back from their finger prints or DNA, hopefully if they’re not in the system we might get a familiar match.”

“I’m going to put everything into ViCAP and see if there are any other matches, cause it does not seem like this is the Unsubs first time doing this,” you said pulling up ViCAP on the laptop at the table. “At the moment there isn’t much to go on to make a profile, and until we know the sexuality of our victim it’s going to be difficult to know the gender of our Unsub.”

“Right well, not much else we can do for now until we get the results back or Viper pulls up another victim,” Cragen said. “The rest of you I know you have paperwork to be doing to so for now get working on that.”

The others groaned but went to the task as ordered. You settled into the chair and got to work, you knew it was always terrible to hope for other victims but at this stage it was what you needed to get started on the investigation to catch this unsub. At least this helped to keep your mind off of everything. You tuned out all the other noise of the squad room focusing on the screen in-front of you, so you didn’t notice when Nick would look up from his work every few minutes to watch you for a few seconds and then look away. But Olivia and Amanda saw it, and they shared a look, happy to leave things as they were for now but knew that it might be a good idea to talk to Nick.