"What do we have here?" Olivia Benson stepped through the crowd of police officers until she reached her partner, who was kneeling next to the CSU tech.

Elliot responded without looking up, "Reported rape. Guy who lives upstairs heard a scuffle in the alley, opened his window, and saw a woman struggling with a man. He was close enough to hear her saying 'No' and called 911. Perp must have been spooked by the sirens because by the time patrol got here, there was no sign of him."

Olivia sighed, "And our victim?"

"Nowhere to be found," the tech piped up, "I'm testing the location where the witness says the attack occurred, but so far I've found nothing out of the ordinary. This is a service alley, so people are in and out of here all the time. There are maybe twenty different DNA samples floating around here. No blood, no fluids, no weapons of any sort that I can see," he ruefully stood up and looked the detectives in the eyes, "I'll get my guys to swab everything and test it. Until I get a victim or a perp to compare the samples too, I can't tell you anything else. Sorry," he turned back to his crew, leaving the detectives to sigh with frustration.

Olivia was the first to speak, "We might as well interview the witness again, see if he has anything that can help us." She inwardly groaned. It was four in the morning, and she resented being dragged out of bed for a case that seemed like it had already gone cold. It was dark in the alley, and she shivered a little, pulling her jacket in tighter. Her head ached and her fingers throbbed. She hadn't had time to drink her coffee, having rolled out of bed, into clothes, and to the crime scene. As a result, she had a vice-like caffeine headache and a sour mood. She hoped this interview wouldn't take too long so that she could grab a cup from the deli she'd seen on the corner. After that, she would be her normal self again.

The detectives made their way to 2F, looking around the shabby elevator, "He sure didn't pick a nice neighborhood," Elliot commented, gingerly testing his partner's current mood. He could see the circles under her eyes and the hastily-done makeup that indicated that his partner hadn't been able to get enough sleep last night. He'd crashed in the crib last night, so he wasn't feeling the effects of this early morning call quite as acutely as Olivia was.

"Who does?" Olivia snapped. She immediately felt bad, but not enough to apologize. They'd been partners for twelve years; Elliot knew better than to bother her so early, "He was looking for a rape spot, not a new apartment." She pointed at the door, "Let's just get this interview over with."

Elliot knocked, "Mr. Robinson?" A middle-aged man opened the door.

"Yes?" He seemed nervous, shifting from foot to foot, "Are you the police? Can I see your badges?" He peered at them through the small crack left by his chain lock.

"I'm Detective Stabler, and this is my partner Detective Benson. We're from SVU," Elliot explained, "I know you gave your statement to the police earlier, but it would be extremely helpful if we could speak to you again." They both showed him their badges, putting them close to the door so that he could see them properly.

Satisfied, he nodded, "Of course," he shut the door and the detectives could hear the clatter of the lock before he opened it wide, "Please come in." The detectives stood in the foyer until he beckoned them to the plush couches in the living room, "Sit down." Olivia sat first, noting that the man had every light in his tiny apartment blazing. Though it was the chalky-grey of a city night outside, his apartment was as bright as the afternoon. She stood and went to the window, looking at the CSU techs working a floor below. They were close enough that she could hear their conversation through the closed window. She opened it and was surprised by the fact that she could clearly hear each word that was said, "Part of living on the second floor," Mr. Robinson shrugged, "Would you like some coffee?"

Olivia's mouth dropped open with gratitude, "Yes please." The man scuttled over the kitchen.

"One for you too, Detective Stabler?" He called.

"Yes please," Elliot smiled. Olivia sat on the couch next to him and pulled out her notebook, readying herself to copy down their conversation while still drinking her coffee, "I'll do it," Elliot took her notebook, "I can see from your face that you need the coffee more than I do. Just listen." She smiled at him. She could hear Mr. Robinson clattering around in the kitchen and when he came in holding two coffees, she felt ready to hug him, "Thank you," Elliot took a mug and gave one to Olivia, who put it to her lips and drank greedily, inhaling the wonderful scent, "So Mr. Robinson, you said you noticed the noise around two o'clock?"

The man was sitting in a chair, one leg crossed and one knee pulled to his chest, "Yeah. I was watching TV. I'm a bit of an insomniac," he ruefully smiled, "and sometimes I'll just watch it all night. Tonight was one of those nights."

"How did you hear it over the TV?" Olivia inquired, fingers wrapped around the mug.

He shrugged, "I paused it to go to the bathroom when I heard it. It sounded a little like cats fighting, so I went to the window to yell and scare them away. When I got to the window, I could see a man holding a girl down. He was, you know…" Mr. Robinson looked down in embarrassment, "They were having sex. At least that was what I thought until I opened up the window. I could hear her," he paused again, and Olivia could tell he was struggling with the memory, "she had this little voice, and she kept saying, 'Please, please stop. Please stop.' She was crying too, and sometimes she would say, 'No. I don't want this. Please don't do this. I want to go home,' in this little scared voice, like she was asking him to do her a favor or something. I've never seen a rape before, but I thought she'd be screaming or fighting him. She was just begging him to stop," he rested his chin on his knee and took several deep breaths before continuing, "She had the saddest voice I've ever heard. It keeps echoing in my head; I'd know it anywhere. She had a voice like she didn't know hope, didn't know happiness," he put his head in his hands, "I'm sorry."

Elliot and Olivia exchanged glances, "Mr. Robinson," Olivia gently put her hand on his shoulder, "take a deep breath. Did you see her face?" She kept her voice modulated; she didn't want to scare the man.

He lifted his head a little, "I couldn't get a good look at her. It was dark, you know, and he was obscuring her face. I just stood there for a few minutes, too shocked to move. When I finally regained control of myself, I closed the window and called the police. Then I went back to the window and kept an eye on them," he clenched his hands defensively, his voice raising in pitch and volume, "I didn't want to scare him away, you know. I thought that if I didn't scream and scare him away, the cops would catch him. She had been raped no matter what, but if the cops caught him, at least she'd know that the scum wasn't out on the street," he started to cry, "I had my camera in my hands, waiting for better light, but finally I realized there wasn't going to be any. I took a picture, but it didn't come out properly. There was no flash. I didn't want to scare him away," Elliot and Olivia looked at each other with surprise as he continued to talk, "I wanted to take more, but it was too awful, too terrible. He kept grunting, slapped her face a couple of times. I thought I was going to bust; the cops weren't coming fast enough. But then you could hear the fucking sirens approaching from five blocks away. Gave him enough time to jump up, pull up his pants, grab her, and run. She was crying the whole time, that soft voice begging him to leave her behind," he continued to cry, "I'll hear that voice for the rest of my life." His voice broke and he stopped speaking.

As the female partner, witnesses were often more amenable to Olivia treating them delicately, "Mr. Robinson, may we see this picture?" She held her breath, hoping he hadn't deleted it.

He stood and went to the table, where a small black camera lay, "Here," he handed it over, "Is that all?" He looked exhausted, and Olivia pitied him. The poor man was eaten up with guilt, but at least he'd called the police. Olivia couldn't name how many times witnesses had just ignored a rape or systematic abuse, only revealing how much they knew when the police questioned them.

"Yes, thank you," Elliot pulled his business card out of his pocket and handed it to the shaking man, "If you remember anything, please call us. Good night," he nodded politely as they left the apartment, "Let's drop this off with Morales," he said, gesturing to the camera in her hand, "and then we'll get breakfast. You look as if you could use it."

Olivia sighed and pushed some dark brown hair out of her eyes, "Let's hope he can get something off of it, or this case is stone cold already."