"What do you most remember seeing after you entered the house?"

At the question, Elliot suppresses a derisive snort, not meeting Dr. Huang's eyes. The question is, in his opinion, a ridiculous one. In fact, the whole thing is ridiculous. He's standing here, leaning against a railing that keeps him from falling into the squad room, when he could be out trying to find the one responsible for the unit's latest case. Silence looms over the area until he finally sighs and answers.

"Dead bodies."

"Anything specific about them?"

He wonders what on earth he can possibly say to specify dead bodies. They were small…all of them children…all of them lifeless. And horrified as he'd been, he hadn't been able to pull his eyes away. It had been almost as if he couldn't help but stare. He has the feeling that that's one of the reasons all the unit's being made to go through these evaluations. Even so, he doesn't think he likes the idea of someone else being inside his head, so he shrugs before he replies.

"A bunch of dead bodies. Seen plenty."

"So this was no different than any other case."

No different from any other case. Of course it was different from other cases. Yes, the unit has had child victims before. But never so many at one time. And never have they come across something like this. He closes his eyes for a split second, and he can see various faces staring up at him, with vacant eyes. Suppressing a shudder, he glares in Dr. Huang's direction, trying to hide what he's really feeling.

"What do you want me to say? That it was terrible? Fine...It was terrible...But one way or another...They all are."

"And you think this is a big waste of your time."

Of course it's a waste of time, Munch thinks dryly. Why should they be made to sit here and go through these damned evaluations when they could be somewhere else? Why should they have to sit here when they could be trying to close this case? The fact that Dr. Huang is eyeing him intently, waiting for an answer doesn't help…so he looks at the other man over his glasses, and replies.

"Hell, no, I think we should sit around all day and chat about our feelings."

"Well, what do you want to talk about?"

There isn't really anything. At least, not anything that matters more than the unit's task at hand. He's seen a lot of things in his years as a cop, but somehow…somehow, this just takes the cake. He doubts things can get any worse than this. But at the same time, he knows that he'll probably feel the same way about the next case. It's a vicious, never-ending cycle, and he hates it.

"Well, it doesn't really matter. We could all talk till we're blue in the face. It's not gonna change the fact that the human race is ever-evolving and will always come up with elaborate, repulsive, and depraved ways to kill each other."

"And that's really the hard part for you, isn't it?"

"What?"

"That you can still be repulsed. As cynical as you try to be, you can still be sickened."

There's a reason why he doesn't like shrinks. They always tend to go to places you don't want to go to…always tend to bring up issues that you don't want to talk about. They always tend to know what you're feeling, even when you think you're doing a pretty good job of convincing them that you're fine. At this point, Munch looks away, unable to come up with an answer, because what Dr. Huang has said is true. No matter how cynical he can be, things like this still make him sick.

"How are you feeling now?"

Sickened, repulsed, disgusted…numb. Four different emotions. Four different feelings. And she can't make herself answer Dr. Huang's simple question to save her life. Her only worry is getting taken off the case. She doesn't think she'll be able to handle not having a hand in bringing whoever did this down. So she shrugs, and gives up an indifferent answer.

"I don't know."

"This was an extremely traumatic event, Liv. The grief that you're feeling is completely natural."

She fights the impulse to give up a sarcastic retort at this. She knows what's normal, even if she does have her doubts sometimes. But there is one more thing she knows. And that one thing is that what she's feeling isn't going to go away anytime soon. Cases like this…they linger. And she knows that she'll be awake many a night after this, just trying to make those awful images go away.

"I know that."

But you feel like you shouldn't be feeling anything. Is that how you feel?

I just told you I don't know how I feel, she thinks. But she knows just from looking the room's only other occupant in the eye that he can see right through her. And she wonders for a moment what else he can see, but she isn't sure she wants to know. All she wants at this moment is a clearance so that she can go on investigating. All she wants is to be left alone. So she says nothing.

"Tell me what you did last night after you went home."

Fin wonders for a minute after this question what the whole point of these evaluations is. And then he wonders why Dr. Huang is intent on knowing what he did when he went home. But the last thing he wants is to be taken out of this unit, especially because of something as trivial as refusing an evaluation after something like this, so he answers.

"I ate dinner, called my kid."

"Your son, right. Do you talk to him often?"

"Not as much as I should. I just wanted to call to say hey."

While he waits for the next question, he thinks back on what he's just said, and figures that he'd probably be better off talking to his kid more often than he does. It'd probably do him a hell of a lot more good than just going home and lingering in a dark apartment. It isn't until he looks Dr. Huang in the eye again that the next question is asked.

"Did you tell him about the case?"

"Nobody needs that in their head."

Nobody, Fin thinks, including cops. But then again, we don't exactly have a choice, do we? He's been trying to get the images of those children out of his mind ever since they left that damned house. But it hasn't worked. He doubts that those images will leave him anytime soon. But it only makes him that much more determined to stay in the unit. After all…these kids have no one to speak for them now that they're gone. If the unit doesn't, then who will?

"You got it in your head. What does that mean to you?"

It means I'm doing my job, Fin muses. It means that someone out there actually gives a damn about these kids. It means that someone cares enough to bring them justice. He doubts saying any of this out loud will get him anywhere, so he pauses for a minute, trying to come up with an answer that won't get him into any sort of trouble, no matter how it's taken. And finally, he comes up with one.

"It means nobody's safe."

"And that makes you feel — helpless?"

Helpless. And he's been in this unit for going on twelve years. There isn't really anything out there that can make him feel helpless anymore. For some reason, he wishes that there was. It would probably make things a hell of a lot easier to deal with. Helpless isn't what he's feeling now. Right now, he's pissed off at the city and almost everyone in it…angry that something like this could have happened without anyone being able to do anything until it was too late.

"Not at all...Look, I got my own kids and eventually you realize that you can't always protect them."

"What made you think about your own children?"

Again, he suppresses the desire to snort. What made him think of his children? Hell, everything made him think of his children. Every time something like this happens, he thinks of his children. And it's all because he's determined to keep them from finding out about this side of the world…about how depraved things can really be sometimes. He looks away again before answering, trying to sound indifferent, but it's starting not to work.

"Why do you think? The victims were kids."

"Lots of victims are children. You think about your own family on every case?"

Of course I do, you idiot, Elliot thinks acidly. It's kind of hard not to when most of your victims are women and you've got a wife and three daughters. It's kind of hard not to every time your victim is a little boy, when you've got a son close to the same age he was. Sarcasm will get him nowhere, and he knows it. So trying to keep a hold on what he really wants to say, he sighs before replying again.

"It's not...No - I don't. It's - Look...the one girl was wearing a teddy bear shirt that my daughter...Whatever. It's done. You move on."

"I'm afraid that - I won't be able to handle it."

That's been her fear ever since walking into this unit. That she wouldn't be able to handle a case that was handed off to her. And she's afraid that it's happening now. She's always prided herself on being able to handle most things. But now she's starting to choke on her words. She's starting to tear up, and that scares her more than anything else. This case was hers to begin with. She's come too far to get pulled off of it now, and she's afraid that that's exactly what's going to happen. Dr. Huang seems to notice this, but says nothing…at least, not at first.

"But you are. By acknowledging that it affects you. That's the way you handle something traumatic."

"Well, I guess the real problem is that I'm afraid that - that it's not working."

And that's what they're all afraid of. Even if the guys hide behind their facades, she knows they're just as bothered by this as she is. And she knows that none of them want to get pulled off the case any more than she does. She looks away for a few seconds, and when she looks back, there are tears starting a path down her face.

When the four of them gather in the squad room after everything's done and over with, they're silent for a few seconds. But there is one thought in all of their minds.

No matter how much they hate to admit it, these evaluations probably do more good than they think.

A/N: Yeah, so the psych evaluations from Charisma have been bothering me for quite a while, so I thought I'd put my two cents in on it. Anyways...SVU is not mine, so yeah. There you have it.