Hayes POV


I've been on a roller coaster these past couple of days with Bernard.

And I hate roller coasters.

That feeling of powerlessness when you go hurtling down the three hundred foot plus drop of the ubiquitous first hill…just not my thing.

And don't get me wrong.

I can be adventurous.

Just as long as I'm in control.

After my conversation with Bernard during the stake out, I was starting to feel a little better.

Although it was messing with my mind to know that my rapist had been caught.

Ten years ago.

And that he'd killed his victim, the one he'd attacked after me.

Was it really only because I'd complied to his demands?

Or had he just escalated?

Had his victim been just as scared as me…just as submissive and yet he'd shot her anyway?

There was really no way to know.

Unless I asked him.

Which I was going to do.

Because I was going to go to Frackville and have a sit down with him. I thought maybe it would help me to feel more in control.

And I liked that Bernard wanted to go with me, even after I'd treated him so poorly.

He was giving me the room I needed to breathe, while offering me support at the same time.

He's such a great guy.

Of course, that's not exactly what I called him this afternoon after he returned the phone call to Olivia.

"What did she want?" I asked him.

"He's up for parole in three months."

He.

I still didn't even know the guy's name.

I didn't want to know yet.

But the anonymity didn't stop me from being outraged at the justice system.

"After ten years? It was rape and murder!"

"Shhh," he reminded me.

We were still at our desks at that point, so we got up and wandered down the hall, just outside of an empty interrogation room.

"Olivia wants the go-ahead to formally press charges. With the DNA match, it'll be open and shut," he continued. "And even if it's not settled before his parole hearing, the additional pending charges will keep him behind bars."

"Formally press charges," I repeated. "Which means it'll be public knowledge."

I could feel the panic rolling through me at the prospect.

"You think it'll be in the paper?"

"At the very least, it'll go to the DA's office. Which means that Connie could prosecute it, right?" I pointed out, and I could hear the rising anxiety in my voice.

"Well, I guess it's possible, but there are lots of ADA's."

"But she could. Or she could hear about it from a colleague. And you know as well as I do that once something like that gets started…it'll be all over the 2-7 before I even get back to work on Monday."

"Lauren…"

"Damn you for opening this door," I bit out. "I was going along just fine…"

"No, you weren't!"

"I don't want to do this," I argued. "It was bad enough the first time around. I changed departments three times, but rumors and innuendo follow me everywhere I go. And even when people don't know specifically about the rape, my reaction to it still makes me look bad, because I tend to make friends with the men so that I can make sure they're trustworthy, and then the women hate me because they think I'm a squad car…but it's not like that at the 2-7. It's been good. And believe me, even though I was only there for a few weeks before I started working with you, it's never taken longer than that before, so I'd know if people were talking, but they're not and I don't want to screw that up. You have no idea how hard I've worked to escape it."

I stopped my pleading rant and held his gaze while I sucked in an unsteady breath.

"They don't publicize the names of rape victims," he said quietly.

"But cops and lawyers know them anyway. You know that."

"What if he gets paroled?"

"He won't."

"What are you going to do, just bury your head in the sand and hope that it doesn't happen?"

I knew he was right, but I couldn't accept it at the moment, and I didn't like the feeling of helplessness, like if I didn't make the announcement to the world about what had happened, then a murderer would walk.

How could that be on my shoulders?

"I'm going to do what feels right to me and I really don't need you or anyone else telling me what that should be."

I stopped talking when Alex and Bobby appeared in the hallway.

I was mortified that maybe they'd heard some of our conversation, but they didn't act like it.

We spoke with them for several minutes about the progress of the case, and then they went on into the squad room.

Of course, before they left, Alex got me to promise that I'd go to Steve-O's with everyone. I'd already told Carolyn maybe, and I honestly had no plans to go, but when Alex asked me, I caved.

I like her too much – I didn't want to disappoint her.

Once we were alone in the hall again, Bernard said gently, "Lauren, don't be scared."

But I was.

And I hated that he knew that about me.

I wanted him to think of me as fearless.

And untarnished.

And…more like Alex.

But since he clearly saw my flaws, I lashed out.

"And don't you be an asshole," I fired back. "It's my decision, so butt the hell out."

I didn't talk to him again after that. Not about anything personal anyway. We worked in silence for another hour, and then he got up to leave.

"I guess I'll see you tonight," he said quietly as he put on his jacket.

I didn't want to look at him, but I did.

His charcoal gray suit…the white shirt that looked like he'd pulled it from the laundry hamper…a red and navy silk tie that didn't exactly match…he looked a mess and yet still so handsome.

His cheeks were covered in more than a five o'clock shadow. Loo had been a stickler for her detectives being clean shaven, but Ross didn't really care about that, so Bernard often went a day or two without shaving.

Tonight, it looked like it had been longer.

And his eyes were tired, making him look every one of his forty-three years.

I'm doing this to him, I thought. He didn't sleep last night because of me.

I realized that he was watching me, waiting for my response, but I suddenly felt choked up and was afraid to speak.

Instead, I gave him a nod and refocused on the paperwork in front of me.

I'd waited until I was sure that he'd left the building and then I took the subway to the station nearest Steve-O's. As I walked the last little bit, I ran into John and Mary.

"Where's Bernard?" John had asked me.

"You know, I am my own person. I can go places without Bernard," I replied smartly. The two of them just looked at me and I sighed heavily and closed my eyes. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. He's…already here, I guess."

"So you two didn't talk last night?" Mary asked me.

"We did."

"And…"

"And nothing. I told him everything."

"And then he left?"

"I asked him to."

"Lauren," Mary began, but I held up my hand, stopping her argument.

"Not right now, okay?" I asked pleadingly. "I'm just going to go inside, have a drink, and then go home."

"To feel sorry for yourself?"

"Mary," John chastised. "Cut her some slack."

"Yeah, Mary," I said, and I had to smile at the look Mary gave John. "Cut me some slack. It's not like you don't know where to find me if you get the urge to try to make me talk."

So Mary conceded, and the three of us went inside. Of course, the only vacant seat was one next to Bernard. I pulled it slightly away from him before I sat down.

"Being an asshole isn't contagious," he'd said under his breath. "I think you're safe."

I wanted to laugh, partly from relief that he was making a joke about what I'd called him and partly because I was so damn tired of being sad.

But I didn't.

Instead, I ordered a drink and sat quietly while everyone else enjoyed themselves. I said very little, and as soon as I thought no one would notice, I made my escape.

Or, almost.

Logan caught me at the door.

"Hey, kiddo, let's take a walk."

"I don't…I was just…"

"Yeah, I know. But I need to sneak a cigarette and Carolyn will kick my ass if she sees me, so you'll be doing me a favor if you just walk with me for a few minutes."

He was full of shit, but I couldn't resist him.

He has such a way about him.

So we walked and he talked.

And I couldn't believe the things he said.

At first I thought he was making it up, trying to show me that my past didn't have to effect me any more than I let it.

But the really sad thing was that he wasn't making it up.

Those terrible things had really happened to him.

"But you…you're so together," I insisted.

And he was. I mean, he was such a nice guy, and he treated Carolyn like she was just the most special person in the world, and if I weren't so hung up on Bernard, I could easily see myself having a huge one-sided crush on him.

"Now, yeah," he answered in a conspiratorial tone. "But tell me this…do you think my wife is crazy to love me?"

"No," I answered immediately.

Absolutely not.

"I mean, I've been through it. I've been used and abused. And I try to never use it as an excuse for anything, ever, but it's still there, you know? It's still part of me."

And it finally occurred to me what he was trying to say.

At first, I thought that he knew. That maybe Bernard had told him, but deep down, I knew Bernard would never break my trust.

But maybe it was just something that Logan recognized in me…something similar to his own past. I don't know, but I started thinking that maybe there was hope for me yet.

So I pushed it, and I broached the other issue.

The fact that I can't have kids.

"Wouldn't that make you resent her for not being able to give you what you want?" I asked him, trying to get a feel for the man's perspective of the situation.

"Why on earth would I resent her for something beyond her control? I love her for who she is, not because of her ability to reproduce," he'd said easily.

And then he told me that what would make him mad was if she didn't let him make his own decision.

Which was pretty much what Bernard had said.

And Mary.

And Alex.

And I had to be the dumbest person in the world to ignore advice from so many smart people.

We turned around and headed back towards Steve-O's, and I was already trying to decide what in the world I was going to say to Bernard.

Logan and I teased each other a little, and I think he was trying to help pull me out of my funk before we rejoined the others, but I still had to know one more thing.

"Do you worry that maybe Carolyn…you know…thinks about that?" I asked him, referring to his traumatic experience with his priest.

Because that bothered me a lot with Bernard.

Now that he knew, I didn't want him thinking about it. I didn't want him censoring himself, or wondering if I was thinking about it, or…I don't know. But we'd been having some really, really great sex over the past week and I didn't want this to screw it up.

Assuming he ever wanted to sleep with me again, after the way I'd been treating him.

Logan and I wrapped up our conversation, and I was suddenly anxious to get Bernard alone.

To make things right, I mean.

Logan's comment about sharing things with someone who cares making it easier to bear…I realized that's what Bernard had been trying to do, and since I'd shut him out, he'd reacted by trying to find the guy because he'd had to do something and I'd closed all the other doors.

It was fairly awkward going back inside after I'd acted like such a…I don't know.

Kid.

Maybe that was why Logan and Lupo both liked to tease me about my age. Because I certainly wasn't acting like much of an adult lately.

But Logan was sweet, and smoothed over my return, so I pulled my chair closer to Bernard and sat down, and I thought about how much I hate roller coasters.

But with those, I was out of control.

And now, I didn't have to be.

It might not be up to me how Bernard responded, but it was up to me how I acted from here on out.

And I had to quit acting like I don't want him when I do.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to him.

For being a bitch.

For pushing him away.

For calling him an asshole.

For everything.

He brought his eyes to mine, holding my gaze as he reached out and pushed my hair behind my shoulder, his fingers brushing lightly against the side of my neck as he did so.

It made butterflies take residence in my stomach and I felt hopeful that there was still a chance for us.

"Don't be sorry."

"But…"

"We'll talk about it."

"Tonight?"

"Just relax," he said softly. "Unwind. And then we'll go home."

His words and his gentle, rumbling tone made me feel emotional and aroused and scared and excited…everything at once.

Oh my God, I thought. I love him.

But I pushed that thought aside, needing to take things one step at a time.

And first off, I needed to make things right with him.

So I did my best to relax and enjoy the evening, and it worked because the time flew by and before I knew it, people started saying their goodbyes.

"Are you ready to go home?" Bernard asked me after Liz and the chief left. Cutter had already gone, too, and I was pretty sure that Alex and Bobby wouldn't be too far behind.

Those two were so cute together.

And maybe if I didn't idolize Alex so much that I tended to watch her a lot, I probably wouldn't have seen the way that Bobby kept throwing suggestive and seductive looks her way, but since I do idolize her and I was watching her, I picked up on the fact that once again they'd probably be racing home so that they could be alone.

And man, did I want what they had.

Logan and Carolyn, too.

But then I was reminded of Logan's stories, and it hit me that I had no idea about these people's lives, or what it took for them to get where they are.

Probably a lot. I knew that Alex said that she and Bobby danced around each other for years before they got together. Years.

And here I'd practically attacked Bernard after a week.

"Lauren?" Bernard asked, and I realized that he was still waiting for my response.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go home."

We barely talked as we went back to my place, but I held his hand the whole way.

I wasn't sure exactly how to start the conversation with him, and I hated that it felt so awkward and strange between us, but it was my doing.

So I had to undo it.

"Do you want something to drink?" I offered after I let us into my apartment.

Janis immediately approached Bernard and clamored for him to pick her up, which to my surprise, he did.

"I think I've had enough," he told me.

"Okay. So…"

"Let's go sit down."

This time, I sat on the couch.

"I'm sorry," I began.

"For?"

"For trying to tell you how you should feel. And for blaming you for talking to Olivia."

"No, you're right to be mad about that. I should've asked you first. It wasn't my place to do that. I just felt so…helpless. And I hate that."

"Yeah," I said with a smile. "I do, too. So I understand why you did it."

"Do you?" he asked earnestly, and once again, he reached out to settle his hand against my throat, and once again it initiated a series of fluttering in my stomach.

"I think so. But go ahead and tell me."

So then I listened to him. Instead of telling him how he was supposed to feel, or how he should react, I let him tell me.

"It makes me so angry that this happened to you," he concluded. "Not because it changes how I see you, but just because you're such a great person…you didn't deserve that. No one does. And the idea that the guy might be walking around…"

"I know. But I guess he's not, huh?"

"I guess not."

"Yet," I added, knowing that's what he was thinking. "I know you want me to tell Olivia to move forward…"

"I want you to do what's right for you. I got a little overzealous earlier because the thought of him getting out after what he did…it was making me a little crazy. But I didn't consider what it might do to you, having to talk about it again and having other people find out."

"Back then…when I went back to work after it happened…I felt like everyone was talking about me," I admitted. "And they probably weren't. Or at least not as much as I thought, but still…I requested a transfer after only a few weeks. I just waited long enough for the bruises to heal so that no one would ask questions at the new precinct."

I saw the emotional look that crossed his face when I mentioned the bruises.

"You didn't see the pictures?" I asked him.

"No. I only looked at the computerized version of the file, and it doesn't have photos."

"Oh."

"I wasn't trying to be nosy. I just…I wanted to help you, and I didn't know how to do it."

"I know," I agreed, moving closer to him so that he could wrap his arm around my shoulder. I settled against him, resting my cheek on his chest and sliding my hand around his waist.

"And if you don't want to press charges, then I'm behind you, okay? I'll just rally the witnesses and get family statements for the other girl, the one he's serving time for, and I'll go to his parole hearing myself and make sure he stays where he's at."

"I want to talk to him," I said firmly.

"I know. We'll do it together."

"And I think I'm going to press charges."

I hadn't decided until the words left my mouth, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

And things were different now than before.

I was stronger.

And I had Eames for a partner, and he was great.

And I had friends.

And I had Bernard.

I'd get through it.

"Are you sure?"

"I think so, yeah."

"And what about us?"

"Well, are you sure that you really want to be with me? Because if you're staying out of pity or because…"

"Stop right there," he said, running his hand under my chin and tipping my head up so that I could look him in the eye. "It's not staying. You booted me, remember? This is me, being persistent and trying to get you back because I definitely want to be with you."

"Okay," I said, unable to keep from smiling.

"Okay?" he repeated questioningly.

"Uh huh. Okay."

I reached up and kissed him lightly, and then I couldn't stop myself from doing it several more times before reclaiming my position with my cheek against his chest.

He tightened his arm, hugging me closer to him, and I felt him kiss the top of my head.

"I'm so glad you finally came to your senses," he teased.

"Me, too."

TBC...