A/N I watched the last episode, saw a promo for the next, and was left feeling particularly evil…

Disappearing Light

When Olivia Benson eventually caught up with the man who'd been avoiding her all afternoon she found him walking down the courthouse steps, his tie already loosened and top button undone, as if he didn't have a care in the world and the anger that had been building ever since he'd declined police protection ratcheted up another notch. His assertion that NYPD couldn't - or wouldn't - protect him because most of its officers still held a grudge over his indictment of three of their brethren for the death of an unarmed black man had led to an argument between them and his subsequent avoidance of her. Her anger reached its limit when Barba's eyes met hers and, realising that she was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, slowed his descent considerably. For a brief moment she thought that he was going to change direction and force her to chase him down once more; it wasn't enough that he'd let all her calls go straight to voicemail and instructed his assistant to claim that he was too busy prepping their case to be disturbed. She wondered if, on some level, he resented her for once again taking the heat on a case that was always going to be fraught with difficulties. "You need to take this seriously, Barba," she chastised, practically shouting at him when, having possibly conceded that she could always manage to track him down, he finally stood opposite her.

As she'd gone straight on the attack, Barba followed suit. "Like you are? I don't see anyone shadowing your every move."

"That's different. I'm a cop," she argued back, only realising how weak her argument was once the words were out of her mouth. She carried a gun and had decades of experience but both had failed her over the years - once very recently - and, more to the point, Barba knew that too. The look he gave her in response only confirmed that supposition but, to her relief, he didn't throw her history - both past and recent - back in her face just to score a point. She was fairly sure that he never would. Despite everything he was her friend, he cared about her - and she cared about him too. It was why she was here now, trying to convince Barba to take the threat seriously, rather than somewhere safe with her son. It was why she'd worried every time her call had gone straight to voice mail this afternoon. Taking a step closer to him, she let some of her anger go and tried a different approach; "You were targeted directly."

"Then you shouldn't be anywhere near me."

He moved to walk away, his demeanour as cool as his words but a gentle hold on his arm was enough to stop him from continuing his journey; she wasn't going to let him go that easily. He frowned at her in response and she let her hand slip away. "It was me or Carisi," she threatened lightly, knowing how much the younger man seemed to unintentionally grate on the ADA.

Barba shook his head and raised half a smile. "Don't you have plans with Tucker or something?"

"I did have plans," she admitted with sigh. Talking to Barba about Ed felt wrong on so many levels - it was why she'd found it so difficult to tell him that she was seeing Tucker in the first place - but she also wanted him to understand how serious the situation was. It wasn't just hot air or an attempt to disrupt the trial like Barba had claimed - there was a real threat out there and it was aimed at him. "He wasn't happy that I cancelled them. He's being a jerk, too."

Ignoring the barb she'd thrown his way, Barba said something she hadn't anticipated at all: "He's being a jerk for wanting to spend time with you?"

There was far more to it than that but she didn't want to admit any more to Barba than she already had. She certainly wasn't going to reveal that Ed's unhappiness had more to do with the reason why she'd cancelled her plans. Ed had not been impressed that she had chosen to chase after the ADA who had disclosed their relationship and almost cost them both their jobs rather than spend the evening with him. Explaining that Barba was her friend, that she cared what happened to him, hadn't helped to defuse the situation. She could have chalked it up to concern - Barba had a target on his back after all - but it had come across as jealousy. Ed had denied it but that had annoyed her all over again. There was nothing between her and Barba, nothing for Ed to get worked up about anyway, but she wasn't sure that he'd accepted that. And now Barba was defending the very man who'd been more concerned that he was a threat rather than the fact that he had been threatened.

"I thought you didn't like Tucker?" The question sounded more like an accusation than she'd intended. When she had confirmed to Barba that she was in a relationship with the IAB Captain his disbelief had been evident and it was a response that had been duplicated throughout her squad and probably most of NYPD too when the news had eventually filtered out. Barba, and all of SVU for that matter, did a reasonable job of tolerating Tucker - if he wasn't picking her up at her office for lunch then it was to accompany her home at night; Fin had casually asked if Tucker was joining SVU - and she was appreciative of that but also acutely aware that they were only doing so for her benefit.

Barba shrugged, avoiding the question completely. "I just... see his point."

She was suddenly aware of how off track the conversation had become but she couldn't stop herself from turning his words over and over, looking for something she wasn't sure she wanted to find. She tried to meet his gaze, to search his eyes for some kind of hint that she wasn't being completely ridiculous, but his sights were focussed firmly behind her. Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, alone in his office or hers or even in her apartment, and they talked about things that had nothing to do with the case that had initiated the need for contact, she would find herself wondering if there could be more to them than just friendship; other times, when they argued and fell out and had to spend an uncomfortable few days or even weeks rebuilding their friendship, she would question if there ever should be.

When he abruptly moved towards her, one hand raised as he pushed by her, she thought he was trying to escape once more. And then a gunshot rung out. Acting purely on instinct, she withdrew her weapon and swivelled, facing the direction of the shooter but found only a melee of people and movement. Scanning the fleeing crowds she couldn't pin down anything, or anyone, to help her cause; she hadn't seen the events leading up to the shooting but Barba had. Turning once more to consult with him she was met with only a blank space and her eyes quickly dropped to the floor, her stomach quickly following. Barba was lying prone on the ground with his hands clutching his chest and her own suddenly ached with an intensity that almost stole her breath away.

Immediately substituting her gun for her radio, she called for a bus before abandoning that too as she knelt down beside him, the cold hard floor beneath her and the blurry uniformed figures running past barely registering. Pushing his hands away she pressed her own against the patch of red that was slowly staining his shirt. She wasn't sure where the bullet had struck but she could feel his heart beating reassuringly beneath her hands and he was still conscious - she just needed to make sure he stayed awake until help arrived. "It's going to be okay," she told him, even as his blood wet her hands.

"No it's not," Barba disagreed, his breathing pained but, apparently, with his humour still intact. "This is my favourite suit."

She tried to laugh but it only came out as a strangled sob. The patch of red was increasing in size and he looked awful, despite his attempt at humour. Every breath he took seemed to be snatched quickly but used slowly, his body tensing in pain each time. His eyes began to slowly close and she pressed harder on to the wound, hoping to both stem the flow of blood and keep him awake. "Don't close your eyes, Rafael," she ordered, afraid she'd never see that beautiful shade of green ever again.

He groaned in response but his eyes opened wide once more, his gaze meeting hers. "It must be bad if you're using my name."

"I just thought it was time I tried it out," she smiled but the truth was it had just slipped out. Whilst he always called her 'Liv' she'd always made a concerted effort not to use his first name, not to be too familiar with him. In the beginning it had seemed prudent; he'd been brash and arrogant and she'd felt certain that he wouldn't stick around for too long. They'd had a string of ADAs before he'd arrived and she'd gotten used to the conveyor belt of faces. It took a certain kind of individual to prosecute sex crimes, never mind to do so long term, but he'd stayed and they'd, quite unexpectedly, grown closer over the years. He'd got her through the Lewis trial, supported her in both taking charge of SVU and fostering Noah, always referring to him as her son, as her family, long before she'd adopted her sweet boy and the courts had made it official. But as familiar as they had become with each other, she'd clung on to calling him by his last name in a futile attempt to keep him - and her feelings for him - at a distance.

"In that case," Barba started, his voice weaker than before but his hand went to hers, resting gently on the top. "Maybe it's time I told you…"

"Told me what?" she prompted, as his eyes started to close once more.

His hand gripped hers slightly, his thumb brushing across the back of it, "I love you, Liv."

Stunned didn't quite describe how she felt right then but it was close enough. When she'd thought about them being together she'd always struggled to accept how he could want to be with her. After all, he knew everything about her time with Lewis; he knew more than just the carefully sanitised highlights that had made it to trial and she'd told him nearly every thought and feeling that hadn't made it into her statement. Even when she could manage to convince herself that he did want to be with her she doubted that she could ever be with him. She wouldn't be able to soften the rough edges of her scars with lies or deny the cause of the nightmares that haunted her sleep; he knew her too intimately, more than any lover she'd ever had, to let her get away with that.

"You're just saying that because you think you're going to die but you're not," she said with determination, still unable to believe what he had just told her. "I won't let that happen."

Barba simply smiled in response. It wasn't the cocky grin she'd seen him flash so many times before; it wasn't even sad. She only realised exactly what it was as his hand went limp on top of her own and his eyes finally closed.