Complications

Written by: Seriesfanatic

A.N. I know you guys are waiting for an update on "Of Love, and Loss…and Fear" but before I can do that I need to figure out which episode it is when Olivia goes to Elliot's house (before the divorce), and talks about how being the SVU really has no positive side and the last lines they share are "Liv, the difference between you and all the victims are that you can walk away." "…No I can't." It's a great scene but I need to watch it in order to have some sort of inspirational spark. So, I write a fourth chapter to this fic instead and I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Four:

Kirsten sat in the empty interrogation room after detective Benson had left. She unconsciously started rubbing her wrist on the edge of the cold metal table beneath her arms for an uncalculated amount of time. As she sat there she didn't fabricate a lie to tell the detectives, because she wasn't going to tell them anything, nor was she going to speak to her parents. The room was cold and the lights were flickering and she made a mental note to tell her close friend what it felt like to be a victim so she could put it into one of her stories that she never completed because they didn't have emotion. She noticed every aspect of the room including the cobwebs in the corners and the small amount of rust on the bars covering the single window that she couldn't force herself to look out of. She could imagine the envy on her friends face when she would tell her that she met real life detectives and talked to them and heard the pity in their voices, and these were the only things she let herself think about in that cold interrogation room of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit.

Detectives Benson and Stabler stood on the outside of the one-way mirror accompanied by their captain and the unit shrink, George Huang.

"Do you know if she is depressed?" Huang asked no one in particular.

"No, she isn't saying anything to us."

"Well, I would say that she's depressed, and if she could she would be cutting her wrists right now." It wasn't until that moment that the detectives noticed the discreet movement of Kirsten's wrist along the edge of the table and they knew how Huang drew that conclusion. "You said it was obvious that she isn't fond of her parents, so I would imagine that she would try to find someone she could relate to and lean on them…if that person is Devin then I would be surprised if she would even attempt to name him as a rapist." Even though it was his job to say things like this everyone in the squad got irritated by his ability to point out the blatantly obvious things about a person's state of mind.

When the detectives re-entered the room Kirsten did not look up to see them walk in or see the male detective stand in a corner while detective Benson sat down beside her in a comforting way. Kirsten was not into the touchy-feely, "we're here to help you" sort of thing that the detectives were taught at the police academy, she did not want anyone's pity.

"Kirsten, has anything been bothering you lately?" She simply shook her head to the woman's question. She probably seemed pathetic and annoying to the members of the squad but she hoped that if she with held the information that they wanted long enough they would let her go home. She lifted her hand to put her hair behind her ear and the numerous bracelets on her arm fell far enough down that the scars were easy to see. "Why do you want to hurt yourself?"

"I have my reasons." She had been receiving the third degree about cutting her wrists since seventh grade, two and a half years ago, and she was now numb to people's reasons for her to quit because she cut herself for herself, not for attention or for pity, because it made her feel better. As far as she was concerned what she did was no different then people who pierce their bodies or get tattoos, except her habit drew blood.

"Well, why don't you explain them to me?" Kirsten looked to her for the first time since she had entered and when she looked into her brown eyes she saw compassion for the first time in her life. For a split second she almost did spill out her reasons to this stranger…until she remembered every time she had done so in the past and how it always came back to hit her in the face. She once again returned her glance to the table that her arms were now making warm.

"What time is it?"

"Around five thirty." Kirsten remembered that she hadn't taken her depression medication for two days and it could only have a negative effect. Also, it was about time for her to take her 'hormonal' pills as well but she figured that she wouldn't have that opportunity tonight.

Outside the interrogation room Mr. and Mrs. Keller stood looking in at their daughter.

"She told me she stopped cutting herself." Mrs. Keller sobbed once she saw the single fresh cut on her daughter's wrist. "I can't believe that she would lie to me about something so serious." George Huang listened to the parents whisper to each other but couldn't help but wonder what they were doing to try and get closer to their daughter and understand why she was depressed.

"Would you mind coming with me?" Huang led them to another interrogation room to talk to them alone without wasting time watching their daughter give the detectives the silent treatment. "Do you know of any reason your daughter would be depressed?" The woman swallowed hard.

"Our life is not the most glamorous, sir, I'm on depression medication as well." He nodded affectionately and silently urged her to continue. "Her twin brother has cerebral palsy, I work most of the day, and her older brother moved out of the house the minute he graduated to live with his girlfriend. Kirsten has a lot of responsibility for a fourteen year old girl." He wanted to ask why her husband couldn't be of more help but his serious obesity gave him a decent guess.

"What can we do to make sure that this bastard is put in jail?" Gregory asked.

"There really isn't anything that you can do, it's up to Kirsten." The two of them stood up.

"Then we are going home."

"Are you sure that is the smartest thing to do?" He wanted to keep them there but he also knew that if they were going to go home then there wasn't much left for him to accomplish.

"I don't need a shrink to tell me what is right for my daughter, we are going to take her home and explain to her why she needs to say that bastard raped her." They walked out of the room with Huang following behind them.

When the two detectives heard a knocking on the window they instinctively stood and exited the room.

"Her parents want to take her home." Cragen told them.

"But--"

"She's a minor and her parents brought her here, now tell her that she's going home." Olivia went back to the room and told Kirsten that her parents were taking her home. She didn't say anything and didn't even act happy that she could leave the station, she just followed her parents out of the door and the detectives returned to her desk with Cragen following behind them.

"Fin did a check on this Devin kid, he's sixteen, that means that if they did have consensual sex, we can't even pin statutory rape on him."

"And what if he raped her?"

"Well, without her statement you know that there's nothing we can do. Unless she's going to rat out her 'support system' all we have are two distraught parents trying to put their daughter's boyfriend in jail."

"And what if he really is a pedophile?"

"Then we wait for a victim willing to swear that he is."

A.N. I know it's getting kind of slow now but that's that happens when I try to introduce a case, (even if it is based on a true story), because I am much better at writing fluff then I am at substantial writing. So, I hope you guys are sticking with it despite it's dragging through the mud, and I'll try to fit some more happy fluff in there since I've been writing depressing stories for a while now.

3 forever--Samantha

"And you think of the prettiest eyes you've ever seen, and that person holds you back…then I think you will understand…I think."

The Perks of Being a Wallflower