II:

Rafael Barba hated him on sight.

He had seen photos, old photos from the 1-6 archives when he had worked closely with the squad, photos from old files, photos at Liv's place, hell, he'd even had to pull the man's jacket for a couple of cases. But the moment he came face to face with him in the waiting room and his eyes narrowed in recognition of Elliot Stabler, the only real emotion he could feel was blind, burning hatred.

It was an abrupt change from the frantic worry of only moments before, and the whiplash was immediate and less than glorifying. Rafael collared Tutuola and they went into the corridor to meet with the ED doctor overseeing Olvia's treatment, who he had been on the phone with off and on with for the last four hours, since she had first been pushed in the doors of the hospital. While the situation was serious, it wasn't dire, and she would make a full recovery in time.

He had been with Noah in his apartment, quibbling about just how much ice cream constituted an adequate child-sized serving (two scoops, damn it), when Fin had called and said they were on their way to Mercy. Just hearing that Liv was injured was enough to send him into a spiraling tailspin of anxiety, but he'd had to hold it together for Noah's sake and drive the boy out to the Bronx to his Mami's when Lucy wasn't available to watch him for the night. It was fine – his honorary abuela was thrilled to have him over – but it set Rafael back a lot in terms of getting to the hospital, and he had to cede more control over to Fin than he strictly liked. He was only able to do so much over the phone; he could get information, but then decisions had to be made and he could communicate those decisions to Fin, who in turn could pass them along to the doctors. It was awful, but necessary, and it was why he and Liv had built a secondary into the power of attorney: so if he wasn't there, she wasn't alone and suffering any more than necessary.

His iPhone charging in the Mercedes and his Bluetooth headset in place in case the hospital called, he had crossed the city. The irony in getting pulled over for speeding multiple times while on his way back to Manhattan to sit in vigil for one of NYPD's finest was not lost on him. He fielded call after call from the hospital, his unflappable exterior beginning to crumble with the strain of holding his shit together. By the time he parked the damn car and got up to the private waiting room, his patience was at a breaking point, frayed beyond all recognition. He had a temper, but he had been doing better about keeping it in check for Noah's sake – the boy didn't need his Uncle Rafa scaring him. But this? This situation had him at wit's end.

And there was fucking Elliot Stabler, larger than life and looking exactly like the entitled prick Rafael had always assumed he would be from the body posturing in the photos he'd seen and the stories he'd heard. The man even had the cajones to look him up and down and sneer at him like he'd found him somehow lacking, and it was that knife twist that made Rafael decide that he was quite possibly the biggest waste of time and space he had ever encountered.

Unimpressed didn't begin to describe how he felt.

He was glad Olivia was so goddamn happy, but did it have to be with the same kind of prick that used to beat the shit out of him for fun?

Getting an update on Liv's condition and then relaying it to the team ratcheted up his tension even more. Stabler didn't take it well that he wouldn't be able to see her, as Rafael knew he wouldn't, which is why he left it to Fin to deliver that news. He didn't want to risk the black eye if Stabler lashed out at him: he knew the look, the volatile clenching of fists and jaw that the man was presenting, and he refused to be on the receiving end. The others left until it was finally just him and Fin in the room, sitting awkwardly in hard chairs not built for anything other than utility and stability over time.

"Don't worry about Stabler," Fin advised. "He's just worried about her. He'll calm down once he knows she's okay."

"I could give two shits about that man and what he thinks," Rafael snapped, rubbing the stubble on his cheek. "She called me a couple of weeks ago, asking how easy it would be to change her power of attorney over to him, and I told her that unless she was absolutely positive that he was in her life to stay – that she was 100% in forever – that we should leave things as they stand now because she is safe. Noah is safe. You and I won't desert her, Fin. And with Rollins and Carisi as contingency backups in case either of us meet an untimely demise –"

"Jesus, Barba, why didn't you tell me?" Fin said, his brows knitting together in concern.

"Because I didn't want to be an alarmist." Rafael sighed and ran his hands through his hair, making it even messier. "How long have they been… together?"

"He's been back a year," Fin said. "But she didn't want to start anything till he got his head screwed back on, so I think they've only been together together a couple of months or so. But yeah, that's way too fast to be going all in, even with the history they share. It's like watching a goddamn train wreck and you can't look away, man."

Rafael nodded and sighed. "She won't listen to me, of course. I lost most of my credibility with her when I went traitor and picked up the defense line. She doesn't realize that someone has to do it, no matter how distasteful it is – "

"Man, you don't have to justify anything to me," Fin said, holding up a hand. "We're friends. I got you. I may not get it, but I got you. And you two… you're best friends."

Rafael flinched. He didn't want to be Liv's best friend anymore, not if it came with the pain of knowing she was likely to be ripped away from him at any moment by either a crazed victim or perp… or by her damn jealous lover. Not when he'd wanted for so long to be the one she came home to every night, woke up with every morning… But for an articulate man, a debater, a man of a million and one words, he could never find the ones he wanted to say to her to persuade her that he was worth the trouble.

"I think she's done with me," he said very quietly. "She has what she wanted more than anything, Fin: Elliot Stabler back in her life. I'm not so naïve as to think that she would ever compromise. Not when she has that."

He had a weekend a month where he picked up Noah on Friday and took him to his apartment. They made dinner and played games and read books. The next day, they made pancakes and went to see his Mami. And on Sunday, they played in the park until Liv came to get him. It was like being a divorced father, but without the benefits of marriage, or the hardships of actually raising a child…. And it killed Rafael to think that he might lose that due to his own stupidity, his own hubris in thinking that their friendship was unsinkable.

He fucking loathed Elliot Stabler.

"Lemme tell you something," Fin said, drawing him back to the room, the quiet, the oppressive feelings of isolation and worry and doubt that swirled around them. "When I first came to the 1-6, she was hell on wheels – a real hard-ass ball-buster. Believe it or not, Stabler was the teddy bear of the two till she calmed her butt down. After he left… she was pissed at everyone and everything. Thought she might actually go and eat her gun a couple of times. She was out of control, Barba, and I won't lie: I was scared of her. But Amaro got through to her, and Rollins… and then you came on the scene, and you annoyed the shit out of her."

Rafael barked out a laugh. "I annoy everyone," he said very quietly.

"Yeah, but you're a good friend, loyal, and you're scrappy in a fight," Fin pointed out. "Best kind of friend to have, man. Stabler's a punk. You're a king." He took a deep breath, then said, "You've got to tell her how you feel."

"And if she doesn't feel the same way, I will have destroyed everything," Rafael said, rubbing his cheek again. "Fin… I just want her to be happy. I love her, as confusing as that is."

Fin sighed and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess –"

"Once you break it, there aren't any take backs," Rafael said, picking at his cuticles and frowning. "I… I just can't."

"You thirsty? I'm going to go get a soda out of the machine," Fin said. "I know you won't drink the hospital coffee."

"Just a bottle of water, please," Rafael said.

He was tied up in knots, so tired of being sure of himself and unsure of where he stood that when the doctor appeared in the doorway and said, "Mr. Barba?" he didn't hear him at first.

Rafael jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Shit," he exclaimed.

"Mr. Barba, Ms. Benson is in recovery and is coming out of the anesthesia – she's in and out because she's on some pretty powerful drugs, but she's asking for you," the doctor said.

Rafael shook himself and stood up. "I… she was asking for me?"

The doctor smiled just a little. "Yeah, she keeps muttering for Rafa, so I think that's you."

He felt a small swell of smugness wrapped in a cloak of bitterness. Suck on that, Stabler: she wants me.

When he settled into the chair at her bedside, he noted that she looked like hell – rather, she looked like she fell two stories off a building and somehow lived to tell the tale with relatively minor injuries. Her eyelids opened just a slit, and she mumbled, "Rafael?"

"I'm here, Liv," he assured her. "Noah is with my mother. It's okay." He leaned in and gently brushed her hair back, trying not to think about how she leaned into his touch or how much he wanted the right to be the man in her life rather than just the friend who came to the rescue once in a while. "Everything is going to be all right, Liv. Just close your eyes and rest."

"El?" she whispered.

He swallowed hard. "I sent him home."

She blinked up at him, but the drugs in her system and her injuries seemed to make it too difficult to form a coherent thought. Instead, she moved her hand to clasp his tightly as she drifted back to unconsciousness.

He looked down at their hands and wondered how much she would remember when she woke up, and he prayed she wouldn't remember any of it. His words stumbled past his lips hesitantly, but building steam, a soft litany of earnest Spanish, as he professed his affections and wished her only love in return.

Rafael Barba wasn't a coward, but he couldn't stay and wait for his own execution. So he asked Fin to stay with her once they moved her into her room and he went home to attempt to sleep.

It was a sleepless night and absolutely no amount of coffee could save him come morning.