A/N: NOT E/O! I do not give people permission to read in between the lines. (glares at evil in-between the line readers) Takes place after Zebras.

SVU belongs to Dick Wolf or O'Halloran would be alive :(


"Could you call the bus? I-"

"Sure." Elliot winced. He took the walkie talkie from Olivia's outstretch hand and walked towards the door, holding his chest.

Olivia re-holstered her gun and walked past Stuckey over to O'Halloran. She was too emotionally drained to bother "accidently" stepping on Stuckey's hand. She kneeled down, careful not to step in the pool of blood.

"I'm so sorry, Ryan. This shouldn't have happened."

The knife was no longer lodged in the tech's chest. Olivia, hoping against hope, bent further down to become level with the man's chest. It was still. No blood flowed from the gaping hole. She let a shuddering breath escape as the emotions of the night came crashing down on her. She had been assaulted, her partner had been tortured, her colleague was a traitor, and her friend was dead.

"He's gone, Liv, " Said a quiet, pained voice from behind her. "He's gone."


Two Hours After...

"There's nothing you could have done, Liv. It was too late."

"I, I could've gotten there sooner. I knew something was wrong when Stuckey said 'Sushi'! I should've figured him out sooner! I, I, I..." Her voice broke as the tears fell down her face.

"Shhh shhh shhh shhhh. Liv, Liv look at me. It's not your fault. It's not your fault." He wrapped his arm around her and just held her for a while. She let him. She needed the contact.

"I know it's not, Elliot. I know. But, I, I just think I could've done something. What if I'd taken Stuckey down sooner. Maybe I could have saved him."

"I think you should talk to Huang. He could-"

"I'm fine El. Really." She wiped her red eyes and smiled, not very convincingly.

As Elliot stood up and started upstairs, he glanced back at his partner who looked like he felt. "Olivia, if you were 'fine', Huang would already be here."


"I don't really know what to say."

"What are you feeling, right now?"

"Like...like if I'd done something differently, he'd still be alive."

"What do you think Ryan would say if he were here?" Huang didn't have his clipboard. He had long ago removed his tie. He had removed the mask from his face and let the shock and sadness shine through.

"...It's not your fault..."

"How do you think everyone else is feeling right now?"

Olivia looked down onto the squad room. Cragen was sitting in his office, nursing a drink. Probably the first he'd had in a decade. Munch and Fin were seated at their desks, each one refusing to look at the other. Elliot was in the Crib, staring off into space. "Probably the same way. No-none of us saw it coming. We just- I just thought Stuckey was a little immature. I didn't think..."

He let her trail off and held the pause. Huang met her watering eyes. "That it would come to this?"

"Yea."

"How well did you know Ryan?"

"He was the lab guy. We saw him every now and then. He was nice," she paused. "And now he's gone."

The psychiatrist swallowed. "I know that this is hard; it's going to be hard for everyone; myself included. But, I want you and the rest of the squad to go and talk about what happened. I think that that's what you all need; I think we need to be together."


"Okay guys, I know its been a rough night." The captain held up his nearly empty glass of whiskey. "Obviously. There's isn't anything we can do tonight. About Stuckey or Harrison. If you're supposed to be home, I'd call and tell whoever that it'll be a while. I don't think that this is going to be brief."

Huang rose from the circle of chairs. "I want everyone to go around and say two things. One, what are you feeling and two, why." Huang sighed. "As a psychiatrist, I know how I should feel, why I'm feeling it, how to cope... Right now, I just want to say 'Screw it' and go to sleep." He looked to Munch, who was staring at his feet.

After Fin's "eh-hem" got his attention, he looked up. This wasn't the paranoid, sarcastic Munch they knew. He looked old. He looked lost. "Like, no matter how hard we try, someone always gets hurt. We screen people so carefully, even the lab guys. And we let a psychopath in. And now someone's dead." Munch sighed and his gaze returned to the floor. A silent tear splashed next to his shoe.

Elliot shifted uncomfortably. Everyone could tell it was more than the wounds on his chest. "I was too slow. It took me forever to find him. I drove slow on the way there. I took my time in the lab. When I saw Stuckey's face on the DNA screen, I just stood there. I took me forever to see his legs. What-what if he died while I was walking in?"

"We-we keep losing people. Whether they leave, they get transferred, or they die, we lose so many people. And, I don't know if I can- if I can deal with it." A tear rolled down her face, but she wiped it away before it slid off her cheek.

"I wasn't in charge of O'Halloran- of Ryan. But that didn't mean I don't feel bad about what happened. It isn't anyone's fault except Stuckey's. And maybe it's not even his..." He swallowed the last drop from his glass and got up. The door to his office slammed shut, leaving everyone silent.

"I didn't know him. And now, it feels like a crime. Like, I just ignored part of the team, just looked right through em'. I didn't want to, he was a tech guy, he was safe, there would always be time later. Except, now there isn't."


Four Hours After...

Don Cragen's fingers had been hovering over the telephone for almost a half an hour now. He knew the number; it was flashing across his computer screen.

"Waiting doesn't make it any easier. You know that." Said Fin's voice from the office doorway.

"I know. I'm just thinking of what to say."

"That's an excuse and you know it Captain."

Cragen picked up the phone and shoed Fin away. He punched in the number with fingers almost as heavy as his heart. It had been a long time since he had had to make this kind of call.

"Hello?" Cragen's heart froze. It was a boy's voice. A little boy.

"Hi. I'm a police man. Is there a grown up that I could talk too?"

"Okay. I'll go get my Auntie. AUNTIE!"

Cragen yanked the receiver away from his ear. "Well, I'm awake now," he muttered.

"Hello?" A young woman answered, her tone cautious.

"Yes. Hi. My name is Captain Don Cragen of NYPD Special Victims Unit. To whom am I speaking?"

"Um, Angie O'Halloran. Is everything all right?

"Ms. O'Halloran, I'm afraid that I have some bad news. You might want to sit down."

"No. Oh no. It's Ryan, isn't it? He's hurt, isn't he? Where is he? I-I need to see him."

"Ms. O'Halloran, there was an incident. I'm very sorry."

"No. No! Please God, no! My brother; what am I going to tell Jack? Oh my God, my brother is dead." The forensic tech's sister disolved into tears. In the background, Cragen could hear a little boy asking if everything was okay.

"Ms. maybe you and Jack should come down to our precinct. We have a lot to talk about."


Three Days Later...

The bagpipes played in the background, penetrated only by the Father's sermon and the cries of pain from his family. As Ryan O'Halloran's body descended into the earth, Olivia stepped forward. She knelt down and placed five roses on the casket. A tear ran down her face as the image of his body, lying cold and lifeless on the lab floor, flashed through her mind as it had every hour for the last three days. Elliot put his hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Ryan. For everything."