"Thirty-two years old," she says, and shakes her head. "Seems like such a waste of life, you know?"
"She was looking for a way to escape," he tells her. "Looking for a way to escape the pain she was feeling…the past she had to deal with."
Silence. She knows he has a point, and also knows that on some levels she feels sympathy for Gretchen Quinn, but on some levels, she does not. She has never seen suicide as an answer, but somehow, this case seems different.
"If it had happened to you," she says, "If it had happened to you, and you had made it this far, would you suddenly decide to end it all?"
He shakes his head. "Suicide is a sin," he tells her. "Some people might find it as an answer to their problems, but I don't."
"Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't be here working with me," she says, a pathetic excuse of humor that makes him laugh anyway.
"To think she went through her life just trying to get away, only to have it come back and haunt her anyway," he remarks, and she shakes her head.
"I think it's one of those things that you can never really get away from," she remarks. "It'll haunt you no matter how far you run."
He twirls the pen he's holding between his fingers as he replies. "Why is it that the effects never seem to hurt the one who's been doing the abusing?" he asks, and she shrugs.
"I don't know," she says. "Probably because they're doing it for their own pleasure. Because they can. It's not about love."
"I know," he tells her. "It's about power, about domination. Children are supposed to do what their elders tell them, so if they're told to go along with it…"
"Not every child does," she says and he looks at her.
"But not every child is always brave enough to say something," he replies, "And then they grow up, and sometimes, they live normal lives, and other times, it gets to this point."
"Well, yeah, and then the fact that your shrink is part of the problem doesn't exactly help, either," she says, and is suddenly annoyed. "What the hell is that, anyway? I thought they were supposed to help people."
"Most of them do. Others have no problem with screwing their patients over more than they already have been screwed, and then they wonder why these people never seem to want help."
"Because they're afraid of ending up like Gretchen did. Unable to handle their problems to the point where they think death is the only way to get out of it."
"Exactly." A pause, and then he continues. "You know, the department makes all the units talk to one every now and then."
"A shrink, you mean?" she asks, and when he nods, she goes on. "Why?"
"Because they want to make sure that we're not burning out too quickly. This unit's one of those that gets talked to the most often."
She snorts. "Why am I not surprised?" she asks.
"Because you know that the nature of this work tends to burn cops out faster than any other unit," he says. "Two years."
"What does two years have to do with anything?" she asks, and he answers her.
"After two years, the department's probably going to give you a choice as to whether you want to stay in Special Victims or leave," he says. "Two years the average amount of time anyone spends in here."
"You're five years past due, Stabler," she says, and he nods.
"Yeah, I know," he replies, "But I like my job. I'm not looking to leave anytime soon. Besides, I've got a fifteen year old and a twelve year old at home."
She smirks at him. "So really, you're just here to scare off all the potential boyfriends," she says.
"Suppose you could say that," he says, managing to keep a perfectly straight face as he does. "How'd we get onto this subject again?"
"No idea," she replies, and then, "You know, watching her sister there in the interrogation room…I didn't think she'd agree to come back with me."
"Somewhere inside of her, she knew that her sister deserved the justice that neither of them got when they were children," he remarks. "She knew she couldn't just leave without doing something."
"And to think that guy actually went and got married and had another kid," she says, disgustedly. "Honestly, what kind of world are we living in?"
He offers up a wry smile at this question. "One where people can get away with things for years and only be found out when their victims end up dead, and where things happen behind people's backs and right under their noses…" He trails off and then goes on. "And at the same time, a world where people can go home at night and know that there's someone there, and one where the simple things make life worth living."
"And the complicated things make us want to tear our hair out and put an end to it all," she adds, dryly.
"Well," he says, and hesitates for a moment before going on. "Some people's breaking points are a lot closer than others."
"And some people get pushed to the point of breaking without even knowing."