A/N: I know it took me a long time to update, but I didn't want to rush this chapter. I wanted to think it out because I think this will be a critical chapter that will either make or break the story. I don't want to leave out any of the emotions. Plus, I just started college, so I haven't really had much time.

Chapter 7

"We got him," Fin told Olivia. "We just need you to ID him."

"But I know his name," Olivia said. "How would that work?"

"Have you seen him since the attack?" Fin asked.

"No," Olivia said.

"Then it would work. No one even knows you were helping with the case – it was unofficial," Fin said.

Olivia hesitated. For some reason, it seemed wrong. She knew his name. She could have easily looked up his name and found a picture of him online, even though she didn't. Any decent defense attorney would figure out what really went down, tear the case apart, and Darren would be out on the streets again, free to rape other women.

"You know it wouldn't work, Fin," Olivia said. "The defense attorney would do some digging and destroy the case. You know it."

And they both did know it. The inevitable truth was unavoidable: Olivia's stubbornness had destroyed her own case.

"Elliot's interrogating Darren right now," Fin reassured Olivia. "Who knows, we might get a confession."

"I doubt it," Olivia said, her voice seeping with a heavy dose of cynicism.

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As much as she didn't want to, as much as she was afraid, Olivia listened in from the outside of the window. A part of her was relieved that this was going to be over soon, that Darren would be behind bars. Inside she was shaking – she was repulsed by the fact that she had let herself become a victim. It wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to happen.

Olivia was glad that Elliot was the one questioning Darren. She almost wished Elliot would lose his patience and attack Darren, maybe even kill Darren, but Olivia didn't want Elliot to sacrifice himself for her measly sake.

At first, he seemed like any other perp, any other heartless bastard, any other cold vagabond. Olivia tried to be objective as she listened from the outside looking in. She forced her ears into their alert, unemotional detective mode. It wasn't easy. It wasn't easy at all, but Olivia managed, because she refused to be a victim.



"Where were you at approximately 11:50 pm Monday night?" Olivia heard Elliot ask. Olivia was sure that the perp was going to lie. She studied Elliot's face for any sign of anger, any sign of breaking down. Then she looked at Darren's face. Darren, the heartless bastard. Darren, the man who raped her. And she was surprised by what she saw. His eyes were beat red, and there were tears falling down his face. Suddenly Olivia was pissed as hell. What right did Darren have to be upset?! What right did he have to be crying?! He was the one who attacked her, for God's sake!! She felt like running into the room and punching him, killing him, destroying him, but for one, that would ruin the case. Besides, Darren wasn't worth it. Olivia was a cop, not a vigilante. Revenge was not the right path to justice.

Olivia was so pissed that she didn't even feel her own desolation. She didn't even notice a small, tiny tear escaping her blue eyes. To most people, it would have been invisible. It would have been invisible. It was invisible to Olivia herself.

And then all hell broke loose. The door of the interrogation room burst open in a sudden flame of fiery rage. Or, at least, it seemed like rage to Olivia. Whatever happened, it all happened so quickly, that no one really knew what exactly happened. Elliot tried to stop Darren from running out of the small room, sure, but Darren was quicker.

Darren's POV

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't swallow his words; he couldn't swallow his emotions. Suddenly, it was as if he were deaf. He saw the man sitting in front of him, who called himself Elliot move his lips up and down, but no words came out. No words came out.

Darren's eyes were glued open. He had no choice – he had to stand up. He had to run out of the room and bang his head into the door. The room was just way too small. The four walls were staring at him. The tile floor was bouncing up and down. He could see Hanna's eyes in every single line that divided the pale square tiles. It was horrible.

And then he saw her again. Olivia, the woman he destroyed. He couldn't take it. He couldn't take what it is that he had done. His head was spinning. His head was a windmill on a snowy day. He was sorry. He was frightened. He was ashamed. He wanted to make up for it, somehow, if it was at all possible. It wasn't. He was….he was looking at the face of a fallen angel that was still standing, strong as ever, strong as ever….

…And it happened so quickly. Darren heard a livid voice scream, and suddenly he felt someone kick him in the chest…too bad he didn't choose more carefully, too bad Olivia was an expert in karate and self-defense, and, of course, a cop…

…And then his world went black.

Olivia's POV

When she saw him, Darren, the man who raped her, the man who turned her into her mother, at first her body trembled. But it was only a natural response. But in no shape or form was Olivia Benson a 

victim. In a millisecond Olivia's fear transformed into passionate rage. The grimy smell of banana peels, the wild hair, and those wide eyes…it all came to her. Suddenly all of the nightmares that she had been having were real; she was facing Darren again, only this time she sure as hell was not going to be the victim. When she kicked him, it was almost as if her soul was outside of her body, watching helplessly as a torn woman tried to take back what she would never, ever be able to take back.

She felt Elliot pull her away. She heard his calm but stern voice telling her that it wasn't worth it. She saw Darren fall to the ground, partially unconscious. And then, she was back in her body. She saw what she had done. And for some weird, uncanny reason that she would never in a million years be able to explain, she almost felt sorry for him. She expected his closed eyes to be the closed eyes of a fallen monster, but…

….But he wasn't a monter. How could she tell? How, after everything that she had been through, everything that he had done to her, could she tell? Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was because she had almost killed him and she hated murderers. Maybe it was because he didn't look like most rapists. What? Anyone can commit a crime. Anyone can be a rapist.

But that lasted not that much longer than five minutes. As soon as Darren was out of site, Olivia was angry again, angry and torn and fallen, but still standing strong and doing her job and helping others…like her…find a way to survive.

Hanna's POV

Once something starts, once the wheel is pushed into motion, none of the passengers can jump out of the car. It is too late. Even if they wanted to turn back, it would be impossible. 'Technically, I started it,' Hanna thought, feeling guilty, but then she remembered that the only reason she had chosen to play the dead matchmaker was because, as an angel, she could see into the future.

She knew that Elliot was going to find out about Darren's little sister. She knew that Elliot was going to accuse Darren of raping her, Hanna, but Darren never would have done that. Well, he raped Olivia, but that was years later, many years later. Darren was the perfect older brother. He dropped out of school and got a job so she didn't have to be homeless, and he made sure that she went to school and didn't go hungry.

No one is born evil. Actions can be "evil", but people can't. What is evil, anyways? If there is only one creator that created everything, then if "evil" really existed as a second substance along with "good", then God must have created evil, which He surely didn't. No, God created free will (because who would want to have a God that wouldn't give His people the gift of free will?). "Evil" is really just the absence of good. Evil is the result of a bad choice, but doesn't exist in as itself.

Hanna watched it happen. She watched Olivia kick her brother. She watched Darren fall to the ground. She felt Olivia's rage, and seconds later, she saw Olivia's tears. She saw Olivia run out of the room. She saw the paramedics and the guards taking Darren to a hospital. She knew that Darren wasn't dead; otherwise she would feel his presence. He would be right here with her. Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe 

he would be…well, Hanna didn't even want to say it. It was too outrageous, too disturbing, that her only brother, that her beloved brother, would burn forever.

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The Next Day

Elliot and Olivia were sitting at their computers trying desperately to find any background information on Darren that would make their case against Darren a more solid case. What they found out was definitely disturbing:

Darren's father abused Darren's mother. Darren's mother killed Darren's father. Darren's mother committed suicide. Darren's sister, Hanna, was raped when she was three.

Elliot's POV

Elliot was pissed. He skipped past all of the information about Darren's lousy past that might lead him to be merciful towards any other perp, but this bastard raped the woman he loved as a sister. And what stuck out to him was the fact that Darren's little sister was raped. Elliot didn't think about the fact that Darren must have only been a little kid himself when Hanna was raped, and probably didn't even know about the attack because parents, especially uncontrolled parents, usually don't divulge that sort of information to their youngsters. Elliot didn't think about that. His rage was uncontrollable, and the detective in his eyes jumped to the conclusion that Darren must have raped Hanna.

Not that they could charge him for that case. Hanna's rape had occurred way too long ago. It was a case that had never been solved, and never could be now. Besides the fact that the victim was long dead, the time limit for trying a case had long passed.

He accused Darren of it anyways. He had to. He didn't know what the consequences of his words would be. How could he? How could he have ever have imagined such a thing?

Darren's POV (kind of)

The detectives had gone to question him in the hospital. Elliot and Olivia. Elliot delivering the new information on a poison platter. A silver platter. A gold platter. The words were foreign, no matter what kind of platter they were sitting on. To Darren, it was like Elliot was speaking Chinese. He couldn't understand what Elliot was saying. What? His precious little sister was raped when she was three? Hanna was raped when she was three? And he was being accused of it?

He wasn't surprised, really, that they would accuse him. After all, he had raped Olivia. But he didn't rape Hanna. He was just a kid then. He had barely even known what sex even was when Hanna was three.

"I didn't," Darren said. His voice was a whisper, if that. "I didn't rape Hanna."

"But you did rape me," Olivia said. "And we can prove that."



"I'm sorry," Darren said.

Olivia's POV (kind of)

Most rapists didn't apologize. Most rapists denied their actions. And here Darren was, lying in a hospital bed, practically giving them a confession on a silver platter. Did "I'm sorry" count as a confession? Did it?

But there were more important questions. There were matters more grave; matters more crucial. Did he mean it? Was he really sorry?

Olivia thought about all that she had read online, all that Darren had been through as a teenager, all that Darren had been through as a young adult. What she didn't get was this: why would a man who chose to sleep on the streets (even though he had enough money for an apartment) – a man who wrote poetry – rape her?

Elliot had stopped when he read about Hanna's rape, but Olivia had read on. She found Darren's poetry. And as notorious as that saying, "actions speak louder than words", was, Olivia couldn't help but wonder. Who was this man, this Darren, this man who raped her? Was he the same man he was on the night he raped her, or was that not him at all?

He said that he was drunk. He said that he didn't mean to. But of course he meant to. That is the fucking definition of the crime. He meant to. Was it him, or was some evil spirit possessing his soul?

'Stop being crazy,' Olivia told herself. She wanted to punch Darren again. She wanted to let her anger start boiling so she could get these eerie emotions out of her skull. Now. She needed to get rid of them NOW.

She didn't, of course. She didn't punch him. She just stood there and pretended he was just any ordinary perp. And she did her job, because that was what she was born to do.

To Be Continued….