A/N: I keep feeling this chemistry sizzle between Don and Eva...I don't even know what it is about them. Warning, this is a very dark chapter. Has an abuse trigger warning.

Somebody: Just look up Naya Rivera tattoos and her lower back tattoo should be on there C: and yes, I think you'll like the ones from their dating days.

Sweet: Elliot is going to be a problem, I'll tell you that now. And I love writing their banter, it comes so natural.

Rain: It's gonna be a long road, though.

I lose my way and it's not too long before you point it out
I cannot cry because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh every day of my life
My heart can't possibly break when it wasn't even whole to start with

Because of you, I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you, I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you, I find it hard just to forget everything
Because of you, I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you, I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty
Because of you, I am afraid

Kelly Clarkson — Because of You

There were so many things about her life that Eva had never expected. One was lying to her friends and the other was allowing herself to get subjected to abuse. The running joke of the station was that they never had to worry about her being in an abusive relationship.

"If anyone ever hit Eva Santana, she'd hit back!" Jack would declare.

What they didn't know was that under Elliot's nice-guy exterior was a monster. His father abused him and his mother growing up and instead of taking a stand against the abuser, he continued the cycle. It wasn't just a family tradition; Elliot waited until Eva invested herself in him before the verbal abuse had started.

Eva gripped the counter to pull herself up so she stood up straight. Her body ached and she just wanted to rest. Elliot's bad day at work was her fault, according to him. She finally made her way into the living room and collapsed in a heap on her red suede couch. Her body relaxed under its plush cushioning, her eyes fluttering closed.

She woke up to the sound of her phone chiming next to her and she snatched it up. A number she didn't recognize flashed on the screen and she flipped it open.

"Hello?" she said groggy. Eva pushed herself up to a sitting position, her head throbbing in pain. She gripped it, squeezing it hard in trying to soothe it.

"Eva, this is Detective Flack. I was at the fire site today," a husky male voice made her bolt upright. That was right. He had asked her a few questions about what she noticed about the fire.

"Oh, hey," she said hesitantly. Her eyes flicked to the door where she expected Elliot to walk through any moment. "What can I do for you?"

"Is this a bad time?" he asked. Eva ran her hand through her hair, smoothing it out of her face.

"It's as good a time as any," she replied. She sat Indian-style on her couch, exhaling through her nose.

"Have you seen Chris anywhere around lately?" he asked. She's quiet for a moment as she thinks through — not a good idea with a massive headache, mind you — the question. Eva knew she had seen Chris Flack recently, but she couldn't, for the life of her, remember. Her brother Marco would be a better option to call.

"Within the past couple weeks, no, I haven't. My brother's the one to talk to; I know they're pretty close. Marco Santana, he works at the firehouse in Flushing," she told him.

Then she saw her boyfriend standing in the doorway of the living room, bare-chested with a mottled grey towel wrapped around his waist. He looked downright pissed at her.

"Who are you talking to?" he demanded. Eva looked up in surprise.

"Chris Flack's brother. He wants to know if I've seen him recently. Have you?" she inquired. He shook his head.

"Hang up the phone," he ordered. She knew the consequences for her actions if she didn't do it.

"I'll call my brother and get back to you later, Detective. Is that okay?" she said. Elliot's eyes tightened in anger, his jaw tightening.

Flack sighed over the line. "Let me know, okay? This isn't like him."

"I know," she replied and hung up the phone. Elliot stormed over to her, gripping her jaw in his hand. Eva could feel his blunt nails digging into her jaw, the pain licking her skin as he forced her to look at him. "What was I supposed to do, Ell? He's got a right to ask me about his brother." Talking was difficult with her mouth gripped shut.

"How the fuck did he get your number?" he demanded.

"You're hurting me," she said, wrenching her face from his hand. He backhanded her across the face and she tasted blood in her mouth. She touched her stinging cheek in shock as she stared up at him in horror. Gone was the man she thought she had known so well.

He was a monster.

Don remembered Eva's address from when he had come to collect his less-than-desirable younger brother from her living room a while back. He reached out and knocked on the white wooden door.

"Hey, Eva?" he called. After hearing an argument after she had clearly thought she'd hung up her phone, he had heard the sound of a slap. He didn't know who unleashed it, from the sound of little noises that followed, he knew it wasn't Eva. Then he heard a scream on the other line and he knew he needed to get over there. The door was ajar and he nudged it open with the toe of his shoe. He poked his head to see capsized furniture. "Eva?"

A soft moan from by the wooden coffee-table alerted and he bent down next to her. Her wild dark hair shrouded her admittedly beautiful face and he brushed away to feel for her pulse. Strong. Then his gaze fell on the ugly bruise that marred her cheekbone and a bump on her temple. It looked painful.

"It's me, Don. Do you want me to call someone to come get you? Who did this to you?" he asked when she stirred beneath him and attempted to lift her head. Her coffee-colored eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. Her features twisted into horror and panic and she scrambled to a sitting position and let out a gasp, clutching her head. "You might have a slight concussion. Is there anyone I can call to come help you?"

"Is he gone?" was the first thing she asked. Don furrowed his brow and watched her lick her lips. Eva's petite body trembled, her shoulders hunched forward. Her dark hair fell in her face and she covered her face with her hands. "God, I'm so embarrassed."

"Can you tell me who did this to you?" he asked again. She sniffled and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. This didn't look like the feisty, strong-willed woman he had met at Reilly's. Don felt a surge of protectiveness go through him and he looked around for his phone. "I'm going to call an ambulance to come and take you to the hospital to get that bump on your head checked out, alright?"

When he pulled out his phone, her tiny hand rested on his arm to lower it. "Please, don't," she begged. "It'll only make it worse."

"Someone hit you. I can't force you to make a report, but I'm a witness. If you want to press charges, he can't go near you," he said gently. Glassy brown eyes stared back at him and another tear slid down her pretty face. "If you want me to help you, you're gonna have to make a choice."

She whispered a name so low, he had to strain to hear her.

"Call Kylie Morris," she breathed. He looked around for her phone. It stuck out between the cushions and he opened it up, scanning for a name.

'Kylie.'

It rang twice before a breathless voice came on.

"Eva, are you okay? The phone just cut off and you never called me back! I was about to call the fucking police!" a woman chided. Don chuckled.

"Miss Morris? It's me, Detective Flack. I'm Chris's brother," he said.

"Is Eva okay? What's going on?" Kylie demanded. There was a rustle of a chair being moved across the floor.

"She needs to go to the hospital. Can you come and meet us there?" he asked.

"Is she okay? Detective Flack, just give it to me straight," she told him. Don looked over at Eva, who sniffled again.

"She's a little shaken up, but I think she just wants you there," he explained. He extended her arm to see a burn pattern on her skin that looked painful. Don held up a finger and stood up to walk into the small kitchen to find a dishcloth to put on the burn before it scarred. To hell with evidence at that point. "We'll be leaving in about fifteen minutes."

"I'll meet you there. Thanks for calling me," Kylie replied. Don ended the phone call and snapped the phone shut.

"That burn looks nasty," he commented. Eva struggled to her feet and wiped her eyes. "Don't walk yet. Sit down and I'll help you."

"I bet you see this a lot in your line of work," she spoke for the first time out loud. "I'm not filing a report."

He pulled himself to his full height. "Look, your personal life is none of my business, Eva," he started to say. "And I'm the last person who can tell you how to run it."

"You're right," she responded. Whoever this elusive abuser was, he obviously thought there was more to him and Eva than there was.

"Just answer this question. Is this the first time he's done this?" Don asked, glancing over his shoulder. He wanted to prolong the rinsing out of the rag to get answers.

"No," Eva answered. "But he always apologizes after he does it." Classic abusive behavior. Don had seen it too many times to count.

"And let me guess, if you had only been a better girlfriend and didn't make him snap, he wouldn't do it?" he queried. He shouldn't prod the matter too much because it was ultimately her decision. If Don had it his way, whoever was responsible would be in jail with charges stacked against him. "Eva, you don't deserve it. No matter what he says, him abusing you isn't your fault."

"He loves me, though," she said quietly. That was the line he had heard so many times he couldn't begin to count them.

"Love doesn't hurt."

Eva stared out the window of her hospital room, focusing on the Manhattan skyline and not the uncomfortable pull of stitches or the dull throb of her bruises. Don's words from earlier echoed in her mind repetitively.

"Love doesn't hurt."

She knew that, but she kept going back to Elliot. Eva saw the best in him, even if no one else did.

That was why she decided to file the report. She didn't want to talk about it to her friends out of shame and they had respected it for the most part.

"How are you feeling?" a man asked from the doorway. Eva looked over and locked gazes with Don. She quickly broke the contact, feeling a blush creep on her cheeks.

"Hi," she murmured. She balled her fists in the white sheets and closed her eyes tightly.

"No one blames you for this, Eva," he told her. She exhaled sharply through her nose, the stench of antiseptic stinging her senses. There was a creak as he sat down on the foot of the bed and she looked up to see him. "Alright?"

"I just ruined his life," she murmured. While she was sitting bloodied up in a hospital bed, Elliot James's career as a firefighter was over.

"He ruined his life, not you. What you did was save your own," he replied.