"How did it go?" asked Munch.

Huang sat down and sighed. He looked at Benson, Cragen and Munch. "Well, he did alright considering what happened. He's still very much in shock. He's suffering from rape trauma syndrome, and right now he is in the first, or acute stage. He's extremely traumatized, and this state of trauma could last for another two or three days at least, maybe longer. He's very fragile, his thoughts are disorganized, he's anxious, seems confused at times. He's showered twice in less than 12 hours. The rocking, the trembling and pinching himself are all symptoms. He's looking at a very long, hard road to recovery. Be prepared that he will get worse before he gets better. I taught him some ways to deal with his memories of the attack. He used them, with my help, twice. There was a break in his ability to recover from a third memory or flashback, and he refused to tell me what he was experiencing." Huang sighed. "I'm worried about him rocking. It's not a harmful thing, it can be very soothing. But, it can become compulsive in some people. I'll talk with him tomorrow about setting time limits if he needs to rock, but right now, if you see him rocking, just let him, as long as it doesn't last for hours. If you see him pinching himself, stop him. Hurting himself is the last thing he needs to do right now. Remind him to squeeze his hand together or to count. Let him hold a pillow and squeeze it. Anything but harming himself."

"Thanks, George," said Cragen. "Liv and I are heading back to the station. Do you need a ride downtown?"

Huang put on his coat. "Sure. That would be great. John, call me if there's any problems. I'll come by tomorrow, I'd like to talk to him again to see how he's progressing."

"Ok. Thanks George. I think we'll be ok."

"He wants to see you John. You know, he really appreciates everything you've done for him."

"And so do we," added Cragen.

"I almost forgot to ask, do you know anything about those sheets on the floor?" asked Benson.

"Yeah, he wants to throw them out. He had slept on them when he got home, but ripped them off the bed when he woke up," said Munch.

"Probably some kind of reminder I would guess. Call me if you need anything," said Benson. Munch locked the door after everyone left and went to check on Barba.

Barba sat on the bed holding his head in his hands. Everything was so overwhelming. What Huang had put him through was brutal. All of those memories flooding back and terrorizing him. All he wanted was to forget everything, but that clearly wasn't about to happen anytime soon. He didn't think that he would have the inner strength to use the coping methods that Huang had taught him, but he would have to try.

"How are you doing?"

Barba jumped so high he nearly fell off the bed. Heart thudding, he turned and flashed Munch a quick half smile.

"I'm alright."

"You sure?"

"Umm, yeah."

Munch sat down and smiled. "Huang said that your session with him went pretty well. He said that you made a bit of progress using those methods to help you cope with some of your memories."

Barba fidgeted nervously, rubbing his arms and running his hands through his hair. "It was good. Really good. I learned a lot. I think I'll be fine," he said, a little too cheerily, and avoiding Munch's eyes. He never did get the hang of lying to someone and looking into their eyes.

"That's good to hear. So, what do you say we get something to eat and go and watch some t.v.?"

"Ok." Barba smiled at Munch. It would be good to eat and do something normal to get his mind off things.

"Good, good. What do you feel like having? Pizza or Chinese? Something else?"

"Doesn't matter. Whatever you feel like."

They looked through some delivery flyers and decided on pizza. Barba had just enough time to shower and change before the pizza arrived. After a few hours of television and small talk both men began to feel the effects of a long, hard day. Barba was especially exhausted, but he began to panic at the thought of going to bed. Certain that nightmares would take hold of him, he tried his hardest to remain awake and alert.

Eventually Barba could barely keep his eyes open any longer. Saying a quick good night to Munch he crawled into bed and quickly fell asleep. He wasn't sure how long he had slept for before his eyes flew open at the sound of footsteps in his bedroom. Pulse quickening, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Maybe he was imagining things. Holding his breath he listened intently. Nothing. He hoped that he had just been hearing things. Slowly, he let his breath out, relieved. Seconds later, he heard the footsteps again. He froze and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. The feel of cool air on his back made his skin tingle as the blankets were pulled back from the other side of the bed. Dread filled him. He swallowed hard and bit his lip as the mattress sagged and creaked under the weight of someone sitting down.

Blinking back tears, he knew that there was no point in crying out or struggling. A body curled around his and he could feel heavy, jagged breaths on his neck. A slurred hiss instructed Barba, "You be good." The man lifted Barba's hips and placed a towel under him. Barba nodded silently as a hand pulled his underwear and pajama pants down. He choked back a sob as a hand roughly groped him. "Shh." A finger was placed on his lips reminding him to be quiet. Barba was jerked onto his back and the abuser crawled on top of him, his hips rolling and grinding against Barba's thighs. The smell of stale alcohol made Barba feel like retching as his mouth was forced open by rough, chapped lips. His abuser moaned in pleasure as his tongue forced it's way around his mouth and down his throat. "That's a good boy," he murmured. "Such a good boy." The weight of the man on top of him made him feel as though all of the air was being squeezed out of him. Gagging, he tried to breathe in between the brutal, hungry kisses. Hands grabbed at his waist and turned him onto his stomach. He tried his very best to stay quiet, and even though he knew what was to come, the pain caused him to cry out. "I told you to behave," the man growled. "Now shut up or I'll tell everyone what you've done." Barba zoned out, his body was numb; his mind, emotionless. He lay still for the rest of the assault, it was just easier that way.

When it was over and the man got up and jerked him out of bed. Barba stood there, legs like jelly as the towel was tossed at him. "Clean yourself up," the man demanded as he staggered out of the room. Barba did as he told, whimpering softly as he wiped himself clean as best he could and then stashed the towel between the mattress and box spring, planning to sneak it into the laundry later. He pulled his underwear and pajama pants up and crawled back into bed, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He couldn't hold his pain in for long, and soon his soft whimpers grew into heavy sobs. He was despondent, knowing that he would cry himself to sleep that night, and then wake up and act like nothing had happened.

Munch felt as though he had just fallen asleep when the sound of panicked crying woke him. The alarm clock was displaying four am, so he must have slept for a few hours at least. Sitting up in the bed in the guest room he wiped the sleep from his eyes and fumbled to turn on the light on the bedside table. Grabbing his glasses, he got up and ran down the hall to Barba's room.

"Rafael, it's ok." Munch turned on the light and walked towards the bed. Barba was sobbing and thrashing. "Rafael...Rafael...I'm here. It's me, I'm here."

"Is..is he gone?"

"Is who gone? There's no one here. Just you and me. You had a dream."

Barba stood up and clung to Munch. His shoulders rose and fell and his abdomen heaved as he gasped for breath. "It wasn't a dream. I was awake. He was right there," he said pointing to the bed.

Munch put his hand on Barba's chest, his heart was pounding. "Ok, it's alright now. Do you want me to check and make sure?" Munch knew that Barba had been dreaming or having a flashback but he didn't know how else to appease him.

"Don't leave me! Please!" he begged, his hands tightening on Munch's arms, repeating his pleas in a whisper.

"Ok, I'll stay right here."

"It was...real."

"It seemed real, but it wasn't. It was just a memory. Do remember what Dr. Huang told you?"

"Yeah." Barba stood holding onto Munch's arms trying to stop himself from shaking. "I thought it was real...There's something else though."

"What is it?"

"Well, I'm not sure how to say it..." He put his hands to his temples. "Ever since it happened, my mind is all over the place. It's like one thing comes into my mind, then it's gone, then something else. Everything's all mixed up, all jumbled. I can't clear my head. And, these visions, or memories they just keep coming over and over. Sometimes I stop it, but mostly I can't." Barba's head pounded and he held his hands tightly to his head. "I feel like I don't even know who I am sometimes, or what's real and what's not."

"I know. And that's ok. Dr. Huang said it will take time and practice. They won't go away right away. I'm here to help you. Huang is coming back tomorrow to see you. Ok?"

"There's more..." Barba said, panting like he had just run a marathon. He stepped close to Munch again. "I'm remembering other things too. From a long time ago."

Munch put his hands gently on Barba's shoulders. "What is it?"

Barba took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "It wasn the man from last night that was here. I mean, I thought was here. But someone else was hurting me too."

"Can you tell me who it was?"

Barba whimpered quietly and trembled. "It...It was...I..." His hands fidgeted and twisted his shirt. "Ahh...You won't tell on me?" he asked in a quietly, stepping closer to Munch, looking at him with desperate eyes.

"Tell on you? Of course not."

"Promise? You have to promise. Please?" Barba's heart thudded and he broke out in a cold sweat.

"I promise."

"It...It was my dad. My dad...he...umm..." his voice trailed off and he hung his head.

"Your dad hurt you?"

"Yeah."

"What did he do to you?"

"Umm, I...I don't know if I should tell you. I can't tell."

"You can trust me. With anything."

"He used to make me...umm...do things with him."

Munch's heart sank and he pulled Barba into a tight hug, being careful not to hurt his ribs. "Where is he?" Munch asked, trying not to let his voice rise.

Barba wriggled out of Munch's embrace and sat on the bed, saying nothing.

"Where is your father?" Munch asked again, bending down to look him in the eyes. He briefly fantasized about what he would like to do to the man. "Rafael, your father. Where is he?"

"He died, 15 years ago."

Good. Despite his outwardly calm exterior, feelings of hatred and rage were beginning to boil within him. Although he was accustomed to dealing with victims of sexual abuse he still could never make sense of it. He struggled to hold in his own tears and quickly wiped away a tear of his own. He pushed his glasses up to hide his eyes from Barba.

"Would you like to talk about it? It might feel better."

Barba looked up at him with the saddest eyes Munch had ever seen. "What if it gets worse?"

"Well, maybe it will feel better to finally get it out. It won't get better if you keep it all in."

"Maybe...I just tried to forget it all. I didn't think about it much, until yesterday. Now, everything bad is all back."

Munch pulled up a chair and sat down, fighting with himself to keep calm. "How old were you when he started hurting you?"

"I don't know," Barba said in a small voice. He lay down and sighed heavily. Shaking his head he squirmed restlessly. He bent and straitened his legs and covered his face with his arm. This was too much too bear, he knew he was about to violate a long held promise of silence, but another part of his brain took over and the words spilled uncontrollably from him. He turned onto his side and drew his knees to his chest. "I think maybe I was seven or eight the first time. I don't really remember the first time..."

"You must have been so scared and confused."

"Yeah," Barba said softly. "I was. I was so scared. But then it was just normal. You know? I just got used to it, and pretended like it wasn't happening. I used to pretend that he wasn't my dad, and that somewhere I had a real dad who would find me and come to take me away. I used to imagine that lots. Or else I'd try to make him happy so that he wouldn't hurt me. Sometimes, when he came into my bed, I would imagine I was somewhere else and then I couldn't feel it. It was like I had a dream where I was in a different place. But then I'd wake up, and it was happening. I didn't know what else to do."

"There was nothing you could have done. You were just a little boy. You couldn't have stopped it. It wasn't your fault."

"It was my fault. I was bad. He said I was just bad, and he hit me a lot. But then when he was, you know, touching me, I was a good boy."

"Did you ever tell anyone what happened?"

"No...I wasn't ever supposed to say anything, to anyone and I didn't. I never did, till now."

"How far did he take things with you?"

Barba made a sharp cry and began to shake. He shook his head and refused to answer the question.

"It's ok. It's safe to talk now. You're not bad, and you weren't bad then. He can't ever hurt you again. Do you know that?"

"He's in my mind, saying those things, doing those things...It's him, then he turns into the man from last night, then my dad again...I can't tell if it's real. I felt it, it hurt. He was on top of me, and I couldn't breath."

"I am so sorry that you had to go through any of this. What happened to you last night brought all of those memories back to you. You were innocent. How long did he do this to you?"

Barba covered his face in shame. He was humiliated, but the secrets demanded to be heard. "Umm, well, I think until I was 17? Just before I went to university. He tried one other time after I went to school, but he was so drunk, that he ahh, umm, couldn't." He eyed Munch, expecting that he would be disgusted with him for allowing the abuse to continue for so long, but Munch didn't flinch.

Letting out a heavy sigh Barba wiped tears from his eyes. "I did some really bad things-"

"No, you didn't. Your father did bad things, not you. Whom ever hurt you last night was bad, not you."

"No. I did too. I did some really terrible things too when-"

"Rafael, no-"

"Yes! I did. My first couple of years at university. I did some, umm, not nice things. I've been thinking about that a lot lately, especially since yesterday."

"What happened?"

"Oh god. This is so embarrassing." He had to tell Munch, something inside of him was urging him to tell everything. "I, umm... I slept with some guys. Umm, older guys. I met one during summer break. He would buy me drinks, take me out. He lent me money. I thought he loved me so I let him do whatever he wanted with me. I slept with him and I let his friend sleep with me too. Both of them, I didn't care. I just wanted him to love me... so I did whatever he wanted. He didn't hit me or anything at least, but he just had me around for sex. It's not something I'm proud of. Another guy, he used to hit me and I didn't care. I let him just do anything to me too. I let people do anything they wanted when I was younger. Some really bad stuff. You know...really bad." Barba began squirming uncomfortably again.

Munch leaned over and gently touched Barba's shoulder. "It's ok. I'm glad you told me about what happened to you. You weren't being bad. That kind of thing happens to people sometimes, especially if they are feeling lost. You must have been so lost and sad. I would never judge you."

"You wouldn't?"

"No, I wouldn't. You were trying to find someone to love you, but instead, they hurt you. That's not your fault. You just didn't know any better. You had no way of coping with what your father did to you."

Barba sat up and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess," he said, not knowing whether or not to believe Munch's words. Desperately, he wanted to believe him. "Everything is hurting bad again."

"Come on," Munch said, looking at his watch. "Let's go and get you your pain killers."

Barba nodded silently and followed Munch to the kitchen. He swallowed his pills with some water and sat at the table, not knowing what to do next. Although tired, he didn't want to go back to bed, afraid that he'd have another horrible dream. He hated being a burden on poor, kind Munch, so he waited for Munch to take the lead. Whatever Munch decided is what he would do. He desperately wanted Munch to stay with him, but he feared that his childish behaviour and uncontrollable break downs would soon drive him away. Try to be brave. Don't freak out again. I'm going to drive him crazy. Just calm down. Don't have another outburst. He took some deep breaths, hoping that Munch would stay for just a little longer.

Barba noticed Munch staring at the small bruises on his arms. He pulled down his sleeves, embarrassed. "I know I shouldn't do that. I'm trying to stop."

"That's good. I'm glad. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

For some reason, those words resonated deeply in Barba. A part of him was amazed that someone even cared. He smiled slightly. "Thanks."

Munch leaned forward and patted Barba's hands. "Ok. You look so tired, do you want to go back to sleep for a few more hours? I could use some sleep myself."

Barba lay in his bed for what seemed like forever, refusing to let sleep take him over. He was thoroughly exhausted, but the thought of sleep terrified him. The sound of the heat coming on startled him, and he felt himself starting to panic. Sitting up in bed, he remembered what Huang taught him. Taking a deep breath, he clenched his blankets, counted to ten and prayed that this image would go away. Mustering up all of his inner strength he held back tears and got up out of bed. He had calmed down somewhat, but he couldn't lie there anymore. He took a pillow and blanket from the bed and walked out of his room and down the hallway, standing silently at the doorway of the guest room, hoping that Munch would be awake. When he realized that Munch was still sleeping, he continued onwards to the living room and curled up on the couch.

It wasn't long before Barba felt himself falling asleep, and with that came terrible memories. His father appeared and ripped away the blankets. With an evil smile on his face he began to undo his pants. Barba awoke in a panic and tried to count and squeeze the pillow, but the sense of overwhelming anxiety would not subside. Jolting upright, he sat on the couch and felt tears and the onset of panicked breaths overtake him. He knew it was wrong, but there was no other way to stop his panic, so he grabbed his arm and pinched himself until he couldn't stand the pain. It was the wrong thing to do, he knew that, but at least it helped a bit. Leaning back, he wrapped his blanket around him and hugged his knees to his chest.

Dark thoughts took over Barba's mind. He didn't want to go through this anymore - he couldn't go through this anymore. It took him years to move on and forget what had happened with his father. It was amazing how he managed to push it all down and get through law school, but it was always there in the back of his mind. He didn't make friends easily, and never really had what one would call a successful or meaningful relationship. In his youth he had been socially awkward and promiscuous. He allowed, and even welcomed abuse from others knowing that he really didn't deserve any better. But, despite all of that, he had motivation to overcome it all when he was younger. The sole motivating factor that got him through school, and through life at that time was getting away from home, the ghetto and especially getting away from his father. He accomplished what he set out to do, or so he had thought. His father was dead, yet he was back to haunt him, worse than ever. He had escaped out of the ghetto, but he was attacked and raped anyway. So, what's the point of anything? Why did he ever bother?

As confused as he was, he was certain about one thing. No way was he going through all of this again. There was no motivation for him to overcome this again, he couldn't face the pain now at this point in his life. He had nothing for him to look forward to anymore. It had taken years to forget about what his father had done. Years to forget about how he allowed older men take advantage of him and use him, and he still felt guilty for how easily he fell into the bed of anyone who paid him the slightest attention. Now, all of these things were back, along with last nights attack too. On top of all of that, the man who had assaulted and raped him was on the loose and was going to do it again. Barba sighed. Why didn't he just kill me? At least, if he had died, he wouldn't have to deal with all of this. Maybe, if the man really did come after him again, he would kill him and it would be over. I would literally be better off dead. Thoughts of suicide had flitted through his mind in the past and he had to push those scary thoughts aside now. He was 44 years old, and he saw no way out. Am I supposed to take another lifetime getting over this? He didn't have it in him and he had no fight left in him. Hopeless and broken was how he felt. He wished he would die in his sleep. Barba sat on the couch his brain switching from flashes of his attacker and his father to his own feelings of hopelessness. His heart pounded and his anxiety had crescendoed. Huang was wrong, none of this would ever get better. It would never go away.

"Did you get any sleep at all?"

The sound of Munch's voice was welcome relief to Barba's thoughts. "No. Did you?"

"Some, a couple of hours worth anyway."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no. You didn't wake me up."

"I'm just sorry to put you through this. Thanks for putting up with me."

"I'm not putting up with you, I'm helping out a friend. You look exhausted. You have got to get sleep."

"I just can't. I'm scared of having nightmares again. What Huang told me to do didn't work." Barba tried to steady his breath.

"Do you want to stay out here, or would you like to go back to your room?"

"Stay here."

"Tell you what, I'm going to make myself a coffee and get something to read. Do you take the paper?"

"Yeah, it should be in the hall."

"I'll be right back."

After Munch made a carafe of coffee and retrieved the mornings paper he came back to the living room and sat beside Barba.

"Here. Lie down," he said, patting a pillow he had placed on his lap. Barba stared at him in silence, stunned.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah."

"Ok then. Here, lie down." He smiled warmly and patted the pillow again. "Rafael, let me look after for you. I promise you'll be safe here with me."

Barba hesitated for a moment, but he wrapped himself in the blanket and lay down. His entire world was falling apart. He had spent his adult life carefully constructing a brick wall around himself for protection. He concealed his pain, weaknesses and vulnerability behind a façade of cockiness and sharp, smart remarks. Sometimes, he even took pride in his almost callous attitude. Callous people aren't vulnerable and they don't get hurt. He took a deep breath and adjusted the pillow as he rested his head on Munch's lap, the brick wall he built to protect himself was coming down, piece by piece. Hell, it was crumbling like a wrecking ball razing a fortress.

"It's ok now. Try and relax." Munch held Barba's hand and stroked his hair.

Feeling the tension begin to leave his tired body he took a deep breath and released it slowly. He closed his eyes and let down his guard knowing that he would be safe with Munch.

Munch sipped his coffee and flipped through the paper. He couldn't concentrate on reading anything, so he tossed the paper on to the TV table nearby. Looking down at the now sleeping Barba, his heart broke a little more. So unfair. How could someone get through all of this? It wasn't going to be easy. Barba twitched slightly in his sleep and let out a quiet moan. Shaking his head and sighing, Munch lay his hand on Barba's shoulder, gently rubbing it and tracing out small circles with his thumb. Feelings of anger again rose in him. How could his father have hurt him like this? Abuse that lasted for years and years? Barba had been abused for practically his entire childhood. Where the hell was the mother? It's not her fault, but how did she not notice? Funny how Barba hasn't mentioned her at all. Should I ask him about her? Had anyone ever shown Barba comfort or affection? He spent his whole life with this horrible secret, with no one to help him. No one held him, no one wiped away his tears when he was a child. No one made him feel safe enough to tell what was happening to him. As if dealing with all of that wasn't enough, he was also having to deal with the shocking violence of last nights attack, compounded by the fact that his assailment had not been apprehended.

Munch's thoughts were interrupted when Barba made a soft whimpering sound. He writhed on the couch, legs kicking as he flung his arm around his face. He let out a sharp gasp as he sat up, his heart racing. Munch placed his hands on Barba's shoulders. "Rafael, look at me. It's just a dream. Nothing else." Barba opened his eyes and looked at Munch. He nodded and lay down again as Munch to guided him back to his lap. "Lie down, you still need to sleep." Munch covered him with the blanket and patted his shoulder. "Close your eyes," he whispered. "I'm right here."

Barba squirmed for awhile and nestled his head into the pillow. It wasn't too long before he felt safe again and closed his eyes, finally settling into a much needed deep and peaceful slumber. Munch sighed in relief when Barba fell asleep again. Reaching for his coffee, he noticed that Barba's left hand was wrapped around his opposite wrist. Slowly, he slid his hand under Barba's and moved it away so that it rested on the pillow. He sipped his coffee and set it back down, his eyes feeling heavy. Munch leaned against the back of the couch, careful not to disturb Barba's tenuous sleep. Closing his eyes he soon drifted off to sleep, one hand resting on the arm of the couch, the other laying on Barba's shoulder.