Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Shout out to bored for the scene!

You know, as part of this job, you gotta be there for the victims. Hold their hand, hold them, whatever it takes to get them through the biggest, probably scariest, most embarrassing time of their lives. You. Just you.

And, occasionally, you feel bad for the victim. Not because of what happened to them per se, but what they do, what they say to you, or don't say.

Sidra Lonstein.

I felt bad for what she didn't say.

What she couldn't say.

And I felt bad because we were all crowded in front of her. Three big, insensitive male cops, trying to get her to say something that'd she'd been trying her best to forget. Trying her best to put behind her and leave there. Yet she couldn't. Not ever, and especially not with a child on the way. A child of the man who had changed her life for the immediate instant and for as long as she lived.

"Yes. Why are you asking me all these questions?" She looked around at us and I couldn't take it anymore. One of us had to help her through this. One of us three, big, insensitive male cops had to take her hand and guide her.

So I walked over.

I took her hands in mine, looking at her face. Those eyes that held such fear and confusion.

"You know about the subway rapist, right, Sidra?"

"Yes." She looked less confused and more scared.

"And you know how much damage he's done?" Oh, I just wanted to wrap my arms around her, protect her from this horrible thing. Go back in time and erase what happened to her. I wanted to take that baby that she was carrying and protect it from the horrible world we live in.

And I barely knew her.

"Not to me," she responded. Her voice was full of fear and if Cragen and Elliot hadn't been standing there, I think I might've hugged her, not asked her anymore questions until I was sure she was ready. Until I was ready.

"Okay, it's okay," I settled for instead. "It's just that we need your help. We really do, Sidra." I pleaded with her with my eyes, praying that some god would give her the strength to get through this. To help us. To help those other women. To help herself. To help her baby.

"Okay."

"The man who came in contact with you that day in the car," I reached over and picked up the six pack laying on Cragen's desk. "Is it one of these men?" I held it up for her to see.

She looked at them all and the fear in her eyes was at an all time high. She pointed to one. "He's that man."

That's when Cragen decided to open his mouth. "Okay. Thank you very much, Sidra. You hungry? I don't think we have any ice cream and pickles here, but there is a machine and Detective Stabler can take you to it."

It was like the room was melting, Cragen and Elliot finally moving talking. I hadn't even really registered that they were still standing there while talking to Sidra. It had been that moment. That moment of trying to comfort her as best I could, trying to get her to say what we all both wanted to hear, and didn't want to hear.

Elliot walked over and I began to stand. "Take my arm, not my hand, 'cause I'm working on a cold." He held out his arm, but she took his hand. "Okay. We're going to go straight down here to the left." He left the room, Sidra on his arm.

I had walked over to Cragen in that time. "We got enough to pick him up, but..." he started.

My eyes were glued to the door she just left through. "She won't say rape, we won't get a conviction."

I became vaguely aware that Cragen had turned to me. "Then get him to say it."