Disclaimer: For the sake of this story, Spiraling Down takes place after Justice Denied and Child's Welfare.
Note: All recognizable dialogue, plot, and characters belong to Dick Wolf and NBC.
AFTERMATH
With some, we're certain our hearts must have been acquainted, long before we ever met them. ~ Shakieb Orgunwall
...
Olivia Benson has seen death. Far too many times. But it has never been something she has truly gotten "used" to. "The moment you get used to death is the moment you need to walk away from the job." One of her academy mentors had told her many years ago. "We all build up walls and fences to protect us from the horrors we see every day but the moment bodies become just numbers to you, that's when you begin to lose your effectiveness, that little thing that makes you more than just a cop."
So while she's managed to distance herself from each body that she comes across, Olivia has never managed to forget that each body, each victim, was someone's loved one. Someone who had their own hopes, dreams, aspirations. Remembering that fueled her purpose every day, made each case personal to her.
No victim was just a statistic. She knew them all.
But there were some deaths that hit her more than others. Because she had gotten too close.
Jake Stanton was one of those.
Why are you badgering me? Aren't we supposed to be on the same team?
Her hands are still shaking.
Please stop, please. I'm just tired and I want to go home.
Alex had been right. She couldn't just cherry pick which johns to prosecute. She had to play fair but Jake wasn't one of them. He wasn't a predator, not really. Only from circumstances that were out of his control. His football playing days had left him with a terrible inheritance.
And how would it have been justice to punish him for that?
Now his blood stains the court steps. People are still running over and Nick is still trying to staunch the bleeding but it's too late. The once proud football great is gone, a shell of his once mighty self. And over there his wife is sobbing, her tears of pain, heartbreak and exhaustion.
Tears Olivia is sure that she had been holding down or crying in the night, when her husband was asleep and couldn't hear. Crying for the life they used to have and they never would have again. Crying for the man Jake used to be, the one she fell in love with and still loved deeply, even though he was not the same.
Bayard still looks stunned, as she's sure she probably does too. None of them saw this coming, even though they had both seen the man's tragic realization that he had, in fact, done those things, even though he hadn't been responsible for them. Jake had seen his future there, while embracing his wife after the verdict, and he knew that he would never be the man he was. Ever again.
What hell it must be to know that someone else is taking over your body and that all that you were is getting lost in the process.
Poor Bayard. How he must be blaming himself for having pushed Jake to that point.
She went over to the shaken lawyer. By now, the EMTs had gotten there and have gently placed Jake's body on a stretcher, covering his face to give him some last dignity in death.
"It wasn't your fault, Bayard." She says quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to keep her hand from shaking.
"I shouldn't have pushed him." He responds. "I knew he was fragile and I pushed too hard."
"You did what you had to do." Liv tells him. "The jury needed to see that he wasn't fully responsible for what he did."
Bayard doesn't smile. His eyes are tight, sad, and old. "I didn't see this coming." He whispers quietly.
"None of us did. You didn't pull that trigger, Bayard. Jake did."
"But I pushed him to that point." There's frustration in his voice and she can't really blame him. It had been an ugly scene and painful.
"You were doing your job." Liv looks at him.
"At the expense of a man's life." He responds back, wearily. "I humiliated him."
"You saved him." Liv replies. "You made them see him as a damaged, wounded man. Not as a predator. You weren't to blame for this, Bayard. Not at all."
She sits down on the court steps next to him. "We see so much ugly in our jobs. So much darkness. All that we can do – and you've taught me this – is to bring the light wherever we can. To give all victims whatever justice we can. And today you did that for Jake Stanton."
"It's too bad about Vicki Harris." Bayard comments, his eyes gazing at a point far off in the distance.
"There were no winners here today." Olivia agrees. "Facing her father," she sighs, "that was tough. How do you even begin to explain?"
"Sometimes you just can't. Sometimes all you can say is that you're sorry."
He stands up and by that time all the EMTs are gone. So are Jake's wife and the cluster of reporters and the other members of her squad. It's just Olivia and Bayard now, staring out at the New York City skyline. And the world is a blend of grey and blank and the lingering remnants of blood, crimson on the court steps.
Suddenly, Bayard turns to Olivia and looks at her with a keen eye.
"Would you like to get a drink, detective? I think both of us could use it."
She smiles tiredly. "That sounds good. Just let me call Cragen."
…..
They find a small bar not too far from the courtroom. One where Olivia will always go when she wants to get lost. Because there no one knows her name, no one remembers her face. And she's okay with that.
Sometimes it's good to be lost.
"I'll take a red wine." She says wearily to the bartender who nods. He's seen that look on too many faces before. The tired ones, the sick ones. So many come through his door and they think they're anonymous here. But he remembers them.
And he remembers the pain they bring with them. They leave the pain behind and eventually it becomes a ghost in the wall.
"The same." Bayard nods at the bartender. He looks kindly at Olivia. "Are you all-right, Olivia? It's been a long road for you."
Liv looks at her hands and then smiles tiredly at Bayard. "One partly of my own making, I'm afraid."
"How's that?" Bayard looks puzzled and then, "Oh, do you mean with Simon?"
"Simon...David Haden...all of it. I screwed it up badly in both of those instances."
"Last time I checked." He said quietly, "it took two to tango."
"But I was responsible..."
"Responsible for your mistakes, yes. But don't try to take theirs own too. Haden made his own choices. Had he been the honorable man, he would have disclosed early in the game and spared you both this..this pain. As for Simon, he badly needs to grow up. You're letting him do that."
"Only after enabling him time and time again."
"We're human, Olivia, not perfect."
She simply sighs and sips her wine.
"I could say the same to you." She turns to Ellis. "What happened today was out of your hands. You did the best you could for your client."
He frowned heavily. "You're right – I just...I don't think I'll ever be able to get it out of my head."
"Jake's death?" Liv asks quietly.
"No." He says sadly. "His eyes. Up there on the stand. When I pushed and pushed until he literally was begging me to stop the humiliation. He looked so broken."
Olivia leans over and puts her hand on his. "Bayard, he was broken before you talked to him. He had long stopped being the man he was."
He sighs and takes a long drink. "It doesn't make it better."
"No," she agrees, "it doesn't. But realizing that you weren't to blame? It will make it easier to bear."
"We take so much on to ourselves and in to ourselves with our jobs." Bayard muses. "It becomes part of the fiber of who we are, gets into our blood and DNA. No matter how hard we try, the job is us."
"And few understand that." Liv says sadly. "Which is why we walk alone."
"Not alone." He says. "We found each other, didn't we?"
"That's right." She smiles. "We're true believers."
"You still remember that?"
"Oh, yes. Haven't been so good about taking your advice, though." Liv laughs ruefully.
"What do you mean? About taking a break?"
"I'm terrible at doing that."
"You're getting better." He grins a little.
"Oh, you saw me?"
"Olivia, even in a crowd, you're hard to miss." His eyes scan her fondly and there's something in them that makes something in her stomach turn over. But she doesn't stop to examine it too closely. It's easier that way.
"She played well."
"Well, Mariah takes after her mother. I don't have a single athletic bone in my body." He laughs and there's something warming and comforting about it. It's not a small laugh either – but one coming straight from the belly.
"I'm sure that's not true." Liv grins.
"You've not seen me try to jog." Bayard winces and shakes his head. "It's not pretty."
She grins and takes another sip of wine.
…...
Cragen's given her the rest of the day off so she and Ellis stay at the bar for the next few hours, eating and talking about everything and nothing.
Because sometimes nothing is everything.
And she finds that the pain from losing David is not the piercing knife it used to be. Just a simple ache. And that's bearable.
"Thanks for this, Olivia." Bayard says as they stand outside in the chill of the night. "It was a nice break from..." he gestures, trying to find the right words.
"The ugliness?" Liv sighs, her eyes darkening in remembrance.
"Yes." He puts his hands in his coat pockets and stares up at the night sky. "I hope wherever Jake Stanton is, that he's at peace. That he's the man he used to be."
"If there's a God." Liv says quietly.
Bayard turns to her. "You don't believe in God, detective?"
She gives him a half smile. "I'm not really sure. I've seen too much ugliness, too much darkness. If there is a God, He sure doesn't seem to give a damn about the human race."
"That's fair enough." Bayard nods thoughtfully, even though she can tell he doesn't agree. But he doesn't push the point, simply stands close to her.
And, all of a sudden, she's very warm.
"I'd like to do this again." She says, breaking the stillness of the air, surprising herself.
"I think I could manage that." Bayard gives her a fond smile and her heart flips over.
"Well," she shuffles her feet, "I should get going...it's been a long day. For both of us."
"It's been a pleasure, Olivia. I mean that." He says, looking at her intensely.
"Can't wait to do this again." She smiles. And it's a brilliant smile that dims the stars.
"Olivia..." Bayard starts to say.
"Yes?" And her eyes search his, seeing something there. Something that matches something in her but she's reluctant to be the first to explore it. She's made so many missteps and she doesn't want to make another one, Ellis is an ally she can't afford to lose due to misplaced hormones.
"To hell with it." He says roughly and leans down and puts his mouth on hers. And his kiss tastes of rich cabernet, french fries, and, most of all, understanding. And she finds herself returning his kiss, placing her hands on his arms and then around his back which is broad and strong.
She's a little surprised, but not too much, how right this feels. How it just fits. How he fits with her. His mouth fits on hers like it's been made for her. There's no clumsiness, no awkwardness...it's just right. It's turning out that their passion for justice, for the victims, isn't the only passion they share.
And maybe, just maybe, she's found the light to bring her out of the dark.
So they just stand there in the night, interlocked, heads together, mouths on each other, tasting each other, tasting something different, something wonderful. Something that isn't of the dark.
Two believers.
True believers.
He's more myself than I am; whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. ~ Emily Bronte