A/N: I am doing something different this chapter. It will start in Rafael's POV, but then switch to Olivia's so we can get her perspective on everything that's happened. Enjoy!

Chapter 8: Perspective

Liv and I sat in my living room in absolute silence. I wished desperately for some scotch, but it wouldn't mix well with the medication I was on. The silence wasn't the comfortable kind we usually had, and I resisted the urge to fidget uneasily.

"I'm sorry for hitting you and for upsetting Noah," I apologized, breaking the silence.

"My cheek is fine, and I don't need an apology for that, but I'll accept the apology for upsetting Noah," she returned, looking me in the face. "He cried himself to sleep after you left, and I ended up keeping him home from school. I had to tell him repeatedly that you weren't angry with him, and that you were going to be okay. He, like me, is extremely concerned."

I buried my head in my hands, massaging my temples to try and ease my ever-present headache.

"Are you angry with me?" I had to know, and her brows furrowed in mild confusion as she shook her head negatively.

I lay back on the couch and kicked my feet up on the coffee table in front of me.

"Rafa," Liv called quietly, and I turned my head. "I am so sorry for what you've been through. Even before yesterday I knew this case was taking a toll on you, but after what happened…I can't begin to imagine what's going through your head right now."

I scoffed loudly, giving her a bitter look. "My dad, who I hate, is a rapist and he kicked my ass. It's not a big deal, so I don't need you to treat me like some victim. It's just family drama that ended up being aired publicly."

"Is that what you really think?" Liv pressed disbelievingly. "Family drama? This is so far past that, Rafa, you must know that. Your father attacked you after you testified against him for raping someone. This doesn't make you weak."

"Doesn't it?" I snapped heatedly, as she hit upon one of my reoccurring thoughts.

"I let Manuel get under my skin before I let him beat me," I informed her. "I didn't even fight back," I choked out, shamefaced. "All I did was try to run like some scared little boy."

I looked away from Liv, disgusted with myself as I felt tears well up in my eyes. My hands were shaking, so I clenched them into tight fists.

Dammit, I'd already said too much. I should've kept my mouth shut! I knew better. If everything stays secret, then there are no problems. Let the secrets out and there will be hell to pay. That's what Mami had always told me.

What the hell?! Why am I still listening to what Mami said like it's the gospel truth? Clearly, her judgment was skewed.

"You don't need to go through all this alone," Liv spoke, giving me a thankful reprieve from my thoughts.

"In fact," she continued, "you can't do this alone. I understand that you just want to hide away until you've dealt with all this, I really do, because that's exactly how I felt after William Lewis."

She had my full attention now, sympathy and concern coursing through me. William Lewis was the only man who I felt more hatred for than Manuel. I knew everything that had happened between them. After Lewis's death, she had confided in me when she'd been staying at my place. I'd offered it up so that she wouldn't have to be alone and was shocked yet pleased when she'd accepted.

I could see what she was getting at. After both kidnappings and the trial in between, I'd wanted nothing more than to help Olivia heal. Thankfully, she'd had a therapist to help her and eventually she'd confided in me. I didn't want to see a therapist. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

The worst wasn't over yet. Manuel wouldn't accept charges of assault lying down. He would argue, no matter how guilty he looked.

Dios, I still had to give a statement, I thought tiredly.

Olivia's hand settled on my right knee, and she gave it a light squeeze to capture my attention again.

"I'm not saying you have to speak with me, but you need to talk to someone," she urged, unknowingly echoing Rita's words. "If you don't know who to talk to, then I can make you an appointment with my therapist or get recommendations for other therapists."

I pursed my lips, feeling sick at the thought of discussing my family with a stranger, even one Olivia trusted.

"I can't," I whispered, giving her a look pleading for her to understand.

"Yes, you can," she argued fervently. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

I shook my head not in disagreement, but against her insistence on me speaking. I needed to protect myself. I needed to put my walls back up.

"When do you need me to make a statement?" I probed, obviously changing the direction of the conversation.

Olivia looked indecisive before answering, "Tomorrow, if you're up for it. The sooner the better."

"At the station?" I then asked, and she nodded her head, looking at me with so much sympathy it was almost unbearable.

"Rafa, tell me what I can do to help," she cajoled, scooting closer to me. I jumped to my feet, unwilling to allow my defenses to be broken down. I couldn't let her in. I couldn't.

"Thanks for dinner, Liv, but I'm really tired, so if you could just…," I vaguely gestured in the direction of the front door, not wanting to outright tell her to go, but hoping she'd take the hint.

A heavy sigh was let out as she stood to her feet. Her expression showed even more concern than when she arrived, if possible, and the guilt ate at me.

"I'll be fine, Liv, I just need time," I assured her with a kind smile. "I'll text you before I come over tomorrow."

"Okay, take care of yourself, and please don't hesitate to call if you need anything," she told me, grabbing hold of the fingers of my left hand. "I'm here for you."

"I know," I replied, feeling both warmth and cold at her words. Warmth from her obvious care, and cold from my fear of letting her get any closer to me. Turning away, I headed towards my room, hearing as she left.

How could I trust anyone when my own mother turned her back on me? If she didn't care about me—if she wouldn't fight for me, how could anyone else?

Shoulders sinking, I swallowed more pain meds before heading to bed. Wrapping myself back up in my cocoon, I forced myself to relax, burrowing my head into my pillow. Tears quickly soaked the pillow, self-loathing and loneliness coursing through me.

I had no one but myself to blame for this situation.

Olivia's POV:

I sat in my office waiting for Rafael to arrive as he'd just texted he was on his way.

I felt horrible for the man. From the second I realized Manuel Barba was his father I knew things were going to be hard. Rafa had told me about his relationship with Manuel and how he hadn't been in contact with the man in years. From the initial interview with the elder, I could understand why. He was arrogant, but not in the amusing or appealing way Rafa was. He was cold and angry, everything I expected, but none that I wanted to see knowing that this was a man that my best friend had to grow up with.

When Rafa had walked into the precinct that first day, I'd seen how pale and shaky he was. He'd looked uncomfortable, lost, and conflicted. I'd wanted to comfort him, but I couldn't. His mom had shown up, and I'd immediately seen the pull she had on her only son. Rafael would do anything for her, so I hadn't been surprised as the rest of the squad when he'd interrupted Manuel's interview to inform us he'd hired Manuel a lawyer, John Buchanan. I had wondered why he hadn't chosen Rita, but I knew now it was because she and Rafael were closer than I originally thought.

I knew from the beginning that Manuel was guilty, and it had pained me to see Rafael attempt to stand by his side, knowing how hurt he'd be. He'd wanted so desperately to believe there were lines even his father wouldn't cross.

The day Manuel had arrived for his second interview, the brief interaction I'd witnessed between him and Rafael had sickened me. I'd wanted to rush to Rafa's defense, but I knew it wouldn't have been proper, and would only have embarrassed him.

I'd then watched him and his mother discreetly, noticing how she'd pushed for her son to join the meeting between Manuel and Buchanan. When he'd walked out, I hadn't missed his pale expression nor the way he'd basically bolted out of the squad room. Even Buchanan had looked disturbed, only increasing my concern. I wished I could've asked what had happened.

Instead, I settled for dragging my friend out of his office and bringing him to dinner at my place. Seeing him so upset, I'd given into the urge to have him rest his head in my lap and run a hand through his hair. It was softer than I imagined, and I was both amused and relieved at how he'd seemed to melt at the touch, all tension leaving his body. He'd practically been purring like a cat.

Rafael and I were close. He was my best friend and I loved him. I knew he loved me too, but we'd never explored having a romantic relationship. We may have flirted, but it'd always been playful. I didn't know if I wanted to be with him like that, but I did know I was too afraid to try. I was too afraid of ruining our relationship. I was closer and more open with him than I'd ever been with anyone else, even Brian and Ed, and I didn't want to risk ending that.

Having his head in my lap had been the most intimate we'd ever been, and I'd loved every second. It'd been a huge disappointment when I'd gotten the call of new evidence against Manuel, especially when he'd immediately left.

Day one of court, and I'd watched Rafael almost more than I'd watched the actual trial. His expression remained blank, but I could see the turmoil in his eyes, especially when he rushed from the courtroom at the first break. He'd been shaking when I'd walked into the room, and I'd wanted so bad to pull him into a hug. Instead, I hoped my mere presence could provide him even a small amount of comfort.

The next time I saw him was standing out in the freezing rain soaking wet and shivering. His expression had immediately set me on edge as it'd been almost empty. Giving Rollins a meaningful look, I'd dragged the stubborn man into a cab and to his home. Both amused and concerned, I'd had to force him to get into warm clothes, relieved that he was still able to joke.

When he'd come out, I was further relieved to see him looking better. He still wasn't his normal self, however, only further emphasized by the casual wear and messy hair. I'd seen him without suits before, but never this casual. Despite the circumstances, I couldn't help but find him more sexually appealing than usual.

Rafa had informed me at this point of his decision to no longer attend the trial. He'd finally come to terms with his father's guilt. I'd felt so bad for him, especially when I heard Lucia hadn't handled the news well. I felt angry on his behalf that she would side against her son. Leaving him had been hard, but I was satisfied that I'd at least left him in better condition than I'd found him in.

When Isaiah Holmes said he planned on having Rafa testify, I couldn't stop myself from arguing against it. I knew how difficult testifying about abuse was, and it would only be more difficult as it was his father he was discussing. I'd only had to talk about Lewis, but he wasn't someone I'd known or ever cared for prior to being kidnapped and assaulted. Isaiah had insisted, explaining why it was necessary, and while I'd understood it'd still been difficult to accept.

I'd been shocked when that same day Rita had called me asking how Rafael was doing. I'd known the two of them had been to college together, but Rafael had never told me they'd been close. I didn't think he kept it from me. It was just that it'd never come up, and I'd never thought to ask seeing as how antagonistic they could be with each other in court.

Rita explained how she heard Rafael would need to testify and assured me she'd check on the man the day of and bring him to court. I'd felt immensely grateful, especially when she texted me the day of that she'd managed to embolden her old friend. When I'd brought him to the courtroom, he'd certainly looked more confident than I'd seen him since the who trial had begun.

He'd done perfectly, but it'd been horrible to watch. I'd felt sick hearing the things he'd said and knowing that things had to have been worse than he said. I could tell he was keeping many details to himself. I'd been worried when Buchanan began his questions, but once again, he'd done so well. He'd been the perfect witness, and a glance at the jury showed that they believed every word.

Rafael had left, and I'd wanted to immediately rush out and see him, but another witness was testifying, and I hadn't wanted to leave Sara alone.

When we were dismissed for lunch, I'd walked out, immediately speaking with Isaiah to see if he'd had the same thoughts regarding Rafael's testimony. He'd agreed that it'd gone very well.

What happened next was something I'd never forget. I'd heard yelling and had instinctually headed towards it. It took mere seconds to recognize Manuel's voice and hear the threats he was yelling. Full out sprinting, I'd frozen in shock when my eyes had landed on Rafael. Fin and Carisi had rushed past me, but I could only stand there as I saw my best friend's battered body.

His pupils were blown wide and full of fear and confusion as he hugged the wall, looking at Manuel and then around the room. His shirt had been pulled out of his pants, his suspenders hanging uselessly. There were spots of blood on his collar, and his dazed look led me to believe he had a head wound. His right arm was held against him, and even though his sleeves covered it, I could tell it was broken.

"Jesus," Rollins sighed in disbelief, pulling me out of my state of shock. I shook my head and rushed to his side, noticing Rollins, Rita, and Lucia Barba joining me. Each of us attempted to ask Rafael how he was doing, but while he clearly saw us, it was as if he couldn't understand what we were saying.

Concussion, my mind supplied clinically.

Lucia cupped her son's face in her hands, finally able to get his attention. He mumbled he was fine, which nobody believed, so I was taken aback when Lucia had not only accepted his words but immediately demanded to know what he'd done, as if the beating he'd received was his fault.

Horror and then rage hit me, and I roughly pulled the older woman away from Rafael.

"How dare you ask him what he did, as if this were somehow his fault!" I yelled, emotions getting the best of me. "Your husband is a monster who assaulted his own son! Is this how you reacted when he was a kid?" I asked, appalled at the thought that Rafa may have always been made to feel he was at fault for his beatings; because I knew there were definitely beatings now. Rafael had always made it sound like he was occasionally smacked around, still awful, but better than being beat.

Lucia glared furiously at me snapping back how I had no right to interfere in her family's business.

"Rafael is my son, and you know nothing of what things are like in our family!" she shouted, getting right in my face.

Our argument was cut short when we both noticed Rafael stumbling towards us. Lucia reached for him immediately, Rafael once more assuring her that he was fine. Lucia expressed her relief, and I found my feelings for the woman continuing to plummet. They reached dead bottom when she began to plead with Rafa to tell the cops that he was fine, and to not allow them to take Manuel to prison.

Amanda butt in, looking as horrified and pissed as I felt, and she berated the woman for daring to ask this of her son after he'd been assaulted by Manuel.

Lucia snapped about how she knew her son better than any of us before once again attempting to plea with Rafael.

I thought Lucia could sink no lower, but she proved me wrong when she told Rafael that he needed to save his father because he owed it to them for all the apparent horrible things he'd said in court.

Rita and then I began castigating her for how callous she was being, but it did nothing as she continued to beg the obviously concussed Rafael. It seemed he had enough awareness of what was going on, though, because he told her no. She begged one last time at which he again said no. That's when the worst happened: she slapped Rafael. She slapped her own son.

Manuel's abuse was known, but Rafael had never spoken a harsh word against his mother. He'd sung her nothing but praises, his love for her obvious. To see a woman he loved so dearly strike him…it broke my heart because I knew it broke Rafa's heart.

His expression turned to absolute shock and then devastation in a matter of seconds. His breathing picked up in pace, and I could sense the panic attack that was coming. Gently grabbing hold of the injured man, I'd led him to an empty room and sat him down.

Rafael yanked at his tie, so I pulled it over his head before unbuttoning a couple buttons of his shirt. Rubbing his temples, I did the best I could to ease some of his panic and pain. He did seem to calm, but it lasted only moments before he was lunging for the nearest trash can, emptying the contents of his stomach.

"We need to get him to a hospital now," I declared.

"He definitely has a concussion," Amanda added seriously.

Rita and I went to help Rafael up, and we shared a concerned look at his pale, sweaty skin. His eyes were once again unfocused as we helped him to the Carisi's car. We placed him in between us, and when he leaned forward with a moan of pian, I massaged the back of his neck.

Arriving at the hospital, Amanda rushed out to get a nurse, who thankfully brought out a wheelchair. Rafael was wheeled in, and that was the last I saw of him for several hours.

Waiting had been nerve wracking, the silence tense as nobody was speaking. We all were lost in our own thoughts and looking at the faces of Rita and my squad, I could see a lot of what I was feeling: shock, anger, and concern.

The doctor showed up in the nick of time as I'd been ready to snap. Hearing his injuries, I clenched my fists, wanting to go after Manuel myself.

"He's been charged, right?" I turned to ask my detectives.

"D Felony, and he's being sent to Rikers as Mrs. Barba couldn't post bail," Carisi informed me, and I nodded in satisfaction.

Turning back to the doctor, I asked if I could see Rafael. He explained that he was currently sleeping, but that I could visit.

"He'll need to be monitored tonight, so I suggest he go home with one of you, or one of you stay with him," the doctor suggested.

"I'll go pack him a bag," Rita announced, looking my way as she added, "I assume he's staying with you."

I nodded, thanking her before allowing the doctor to lead me to Rafa's room.

Walking in, tears welled up in my eyes at how badly he looked. They'd removed his shirt, and placed him on his side, no doubt due to the large painful looking bruise on his back. I belatedly recalled seeing Manuel wielding a cane before he was handcuffed.

Continuing my assessment, more bruises become apparent all over his torso and arms, the broken one looking downright nasty in its temporary cast. Worse yet, even through the bruises I could see scars, some faint and small, and others larger and thicker. I felt sick and had to sit down and breathe deeply to calm my rolling stomach.

A gasp pulled me from my dark thoughts, and I stood up as Rafa sat up, moaning from pain. I helped him calm before watching as he became aware of his surroundings. I saw the second he remembered what happened, horror, despair, shame, and guilt all appearing. The shame and guilt bothered me the most as he had no reason to feel either.

He looked like he was falling apart, and I struggled to come up with what I could do to help him. I wanted to rush over and hug him, but I didn't think he'd appreciate that right now. The doctor and nurse entered the room before I came to any decision.

They questioned him, and I couldn't help but shake my head as he snarked at them. I listened attentively to instructions for care seeing that Rafa's mind was elsewhere.

When Rita arrived, I found amusement at her interaction with Rafael. She treated him like a younger brother, and I found myself pleased that he had someone in his corner. The amusement vanished, however, didn't last as she recounted having found a young Rafael on the roof of his dorm building with a knife. I had immediately wanted to ask for more of the story but didn't think it was the time or place.

Rafa, of course, put up a fight when he found out I was bringing him home with me, but I took no offense as I'd reacted similarly after my encounters with Lewis.

Once at my apartment, I found my heart melting as I watched his interactions with Noah. He was so good with my son. It was clear that both loved each other, and I idly found myself wondering what life would be like if we began dating. He would be the perfect dad to Noah, I just knew it.

The point at which I suggested we share a bed I was almost as shocked as Rafael appeared to be. It was purely for practical reasons, but still, I had to fight a blush at the thought of sleeping next to him.

Once we were in bed together, I couldn't help but laugh at how nervous we both obviously were. I cracked a joke, noting as a light blush colored his too pale cheeks. I wondered what he was thinking. For both our benefits, I placed a pillow between us.

His nightmare had broken my heart. I'd awoken to him whimpering, and I'd immediately attempted to wake him up. He'd reacted badly, yelling out for his mother and fighting me. I'd nearly been in tears at hearing the absolute terror in his voice. Right before he woke, he landed a good punch to my cheek with his casted arm, but I'd barely felt it as I'd seen him fall off the bed with a startled yelp. I'd wanted to rush to his aid, but Noah had chosen that moment to show up, so I'd gone to him.

I saw the boy's worry and fear, so I scooped him up to reassure him that everything was good. Rafael did a poor job of helping, but I didn't blame him. He eventually managed to stand and attempt to calm Noah, but that's when he'd noticed my cheek. His eyes had widened in shock that quickly turned to horror and guilt as he backed up. He shook his head as if denial before beginning to rush about to grab his things.

Realizing that he was trying to leave, I'd tried but failed to stop him, heart constricting at seeing the door shut and hearing my son's crying.

After managing to calm my son, I'd struggled with what to do. I knew Rafa shouldn't be alone. As desperately as he wanted to, I knew from personal experience it wouldn't help him.

In a spark of inspiration, I decided to call Rita, hoping she'd have better luck at getting through my friend. She had seen him in a similar state when they'd been in college. The counsellor had immediately agreed, saying she would go at once.

I mentioned that I wanted to bring him dinner, and she said she'd stay with him until I arrived. Feeling some relief, I decided to get some rest, not having slept much the night before.

Arriving at Rafa's, I'd been pleased to see him looking better than he had last night. Rita had definitely helped, so I'd thanked her as she left, fighting a laugh when she threatened Rafael.

Dinner had been awkward and the silence deafening. It hadn't improved as we'd moved to his living room.

I'd subtlety observed him, heart sinking as his mood seemed to drop the more time passed. When we finally started conversing, his mood dropped even more, and mine along with it. I'd done my best to get him to talk or convince him to talk with a therapist, but he'd be adamantly against it. I'd understood his reservations as I hadn't wanted to speak with a therapist after Lewis. Fortunately for myself, the NYPD mandated it.

I wondered if I could speak with McCoy and convince him to mandate Rafael see one. I felt guilty at the mere thought, though, knowing Rafael would feel hurt or even betrayed by me going behind his back. Lord knew, the last thing he needed right now was any more betrayal.

When he basically ordered me to leave, I'd felt like an utter failure. I hoped that he'd get a good night's sleep and be more open to help today, but I doubted it. He was coming in to discuss what happened, and that would only make him more defensive and closed off. I'd seen the walls he'd begun erecting yesterday, and knew they'd only grow stronger. I needed to get past them and quickly if I had any hope of helping him heal.

I could not let this break Rafael. I would not let this break him.