How Does it Feel?

Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: I wish that they were, but oh well, they're not.

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2 months later:

"Do we have the file on Travis Hickam?" Olivia asked, sitting in her chair, looking around at the other three detectives around her, Elliot excluded.

"I've got it," Fin replied, handing the file over. Olivia took the file and then busied herself in it, engrossed in the task at hand. The file covered most of her face, Elliot watched her as her eyebrows furrowed, wrinkles in her forehead being produced as a result, he could imagine her chewing on her lower lip, like she always did when she was thinking about a case. He smiled to himself, despite the situation, then went back to work.

Across from Olivia Peterson sat hunched over, writing hurriedly. Elliot hated to admit it, but although she wasn't the easiest person to get along with she was a damned good cop, even for being on the SVU. He imagined that she was so bitchy because she was afraid that if she let others in she wouldn't be as efficient at her work, he once thought like that, before he met Olivia.

At the other facing tables Munch and Fin sat much like Olivia and Peterson, Munch was leaned back in his chair reading the case file and Fin was slumped over his desk writing. Elliot, himself, was writing, though he had to remain sitting straight because of his healing stomach wound.

They worked that way for about half an hour before Olivia and Peterson went off for an interview with Hickam's roommate, in hopes of breaking his alibi. Not even fifteen minutes later Munch and Fin left to start yet another case, Elliot was once again left alone, answering phones and doing more paperwork.

Munch and Fin got back first, went right to work, then left forty-five minutes later for another interview. Only ten minutes after they left Olivia and Peterson came back, looking a little worse for wear. When Elliot asked what had happened Olivia gave him the short version, they went to speak with Hickam after talking with his roommate (who had broke, admitting he had lied for his friend), Hickam decided to take his chances and see who could run faster, him or Olivia and Peterson. So, she told him, the chased him down 23rd street to the beginning of 28th, where they finally apprehended him. He was, at the moment, being processed for assaulting an officer. When Elliot inquired as to which officer he had assaulted Peterson turned around so her back was facing him and pulled up her shirt, showing a large, purple knot where he had kicked her. Turning back around she shrugged, wincing a bit, and slowly sat in her chair to start on paperwork; they would be interviewing Hickam in half an hour.

Like clockwork half an hour later they left to the interview room, noisy and bored as Elliot was he stood and followed, watching from the other side of the mirror.

He figured they were playing good-cop, bad-cop, because Peterson spoke to him first, showing no sings of the pain he had seen in her eyes when the two walked in thirty minutes prior. She informed him of his roommates confession, and told him that as soon as they got a court-order they would be taking his DNA, the next rape he experienced would be his own in Sing-Sing. Getting no response from him she let Olivia take over and left the room.

Olivia sat down in a chair next to Rotherson and began the "good-cop" part of the interrogation. Elliot was a little disappointed at first, he much rather enjoyed watching when Olivia was the "bad-cop". But five minutes into the interrogation he learned that this wasn't the "good-cop, bad-cop" strategy. It was the "bad-cop, worse-cop" one. It wasn't long before Olivia had Rotherson (who was a good three or four inches taller than her) pinned against a wall, shouting and cursing, though holding back any harm she wanted to inflict on him, no punches were thrown. Cragen told him to get her out of there before anything worse happened so he entered the interrogation room and pulled her away from Rotherson, dragging her out of the room with him.

"Is Cabot back with the warrant yet?" Was the first thing she asked (rather snapped) when he placed her into a chair to cool down.

"Not yet," he told her, "calm down, k?"

She huffed and folded her arms across her chest, "I tried the nice way," she said, "I just got a little impatient. It's not like you haven't done worse."

"You're right," he said, pulling up a chair for himself and sitting backwards in it. "But we weren't sure how long it would be before you started to hit him, Cragen told me to get you out of there, I did as told."

She didn't say anything and looked at something past his shoulder, the door he figured. He sighed and stood up, pushing his chair back where it came from, then stood in front of her. "I think you should wait for Cabot before going back into there, I'm sure Cragen feels the same way. I'll call her and tell her to hurry, alright?"

She nodded and he pulled out his cell, dialed the blonde's number, and waited for her to pick up. She answered after the third ring, "This is Alex."

"You got that warrant for Rotherson's DNA yet?" He asked, looking at Olivia.

"Yeah, I'm almost at the station, give me about 5 minutes or so."

"Ok, we'll be waiting." He hung up, "She's close by, be here in about five minutes, can you wait that long?"

She shrugged, "Maybe."

"What's wrong, Olivia?"

She pursed her lips together and sighed. "How do you do it?"

He got the chair again, and sat in it. "Do what?"

"Deal with these horrible cases day after day then go home to the kids? I mean, it's only been a couple of months since they moved into my apartment but I already don't understand how you could possibly separate work from home, every time I look at them I see potential victims, somebody whose case I could someday be investigating. Like with this Case, Rotherson's, he raped and killed a 21 year old girl, Elliot she looked so much like Maureen it scared me, and I'm not even around her as much as I am the others. What happens when it's a 16-year-old girl, or an 11-year-old girl or boy? What if they look like Kathleen, Dickey, or Elizabeth? How am I going to deal with that? I had to keep myself from killing that guy in there because all I could think was the horrible things he would do to Maureen if he had the chance." She took a deep breath and looked down at her lap, her eyes open wide, in an attempt to keep the tears forming from falling. She was successful, and looked back up at Elliot. "I don't know how you could stay on this job for so many years, how can you see all of these and go home and pretend like it didn't happen?"

"I don't," he said, "I mean, I can't really keep work at work and home at home, it's impossible. I see the same exact thing when I look at the girls and Dickey that you do, but I've learned to look past that. It wasn't easy and it took a lot of time but I'm able to see them, not potential victims. There's no way I could pretend like what happens at work isn't going to effect what happens at home, because I know it does, I just try not to let them into that life. You'll figure it out, I promise."

"I hope so," she said, taking his hand into hers. "This is so hard."

"Who ever said it would be easy?"

She shook her head, "I guess I figured it wouldn't be this hard, you know, I thought it would be easier. I finally had something to be happy about so things would get easier for me, guess things just don't work out that way, huh?"

"Guess not," he squeezed her hand gently. "Hey, how about-"

She looked past his shoulder again, he turned to see what she was looking at, it was Alex. He let her hand go and stood from his chair, then helped her out of hers.

Peterson got the warrant and read over it, then handed it to ME Warner who had been waiting with her. Since they had found blood that wasn't the victims at the scene she would have to take his, along with a hair to match with the one they found, and a DNA sample to match the fluids left in the young girl. They had a long night of waiting ahead of them.

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It was nearly midnight; everybody was still sitting at his or her desk, waiting. Fin and Munch had gone home, though, since they were working a different case. Cragen was sitting at Munch's desk, a cup of old coffee in his hands. Cabot was sitting in Fin's desk, tapping her fingernails against the top of it.

When the elevator dinged everybody looked up at expectantly, waiting for the doors to open. When they finally did Warner stepped out, files in hand, and quickly walked to the five people who had been waiting for her. She handed the files to Cragen who read them over, a look of relief washing over his face.

"We got him," he said, setting the file down on the desk. "A match on everything," he looked at Alex, "add the rape and murder charges to his assault charge. Mr. Rotherson is going to be spending more time with us than originally planned."

Fifteen minutes later Elliot and Olivia were getting into her car, exhausted after working for nearly 16 hours straight. The drive to her apartment was quick and when they got there the kids had already gone off to bed, a note saying goodnight to them on the dining room table.

Since Olivia's clothes were in the room that the girls were sleeping in and Elliot's where in the room Dickey was asleep in they decided that they would just sleep in their work clothes, on the pull-out bed of the sofa. Olivia let Elliot get into the bed first, since his stomach had still been causing him a little pain, then crawled in after him.

"It's a good feeling," she told him. "Getting somebody like Rotherson off the streets."

"I know," he said, settling into the bed.

"Of course, it always was," she added, turning to face him. "But, it's different now, I think."

"How so?"

"Well, before when we put somebody away I just thought that they would never be able to hurt another person. Now I think that they'll never be able to hurt the kids, I guess since I've got a face on the ones who he'll never be able to hurt it makes the accomplishment more real." She scooted closer to him, without hitting his stomach. "Is that how you deal with it? Thinking that if the rapist or child abuser whose case your working goes to prison they can never touch your children?"

He nodded, "You're catching on quicker than I thought."

She smiled and rested her head against his chest, sighing sleepily. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her close, even though his wound still hurt every now and then, kissing her on the forehead. They feel asleep not long after that.

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A/N: Like I said with "Fall to Pieces" it's been a very busy week for me, so that's why It took forever to get this out. Plus, next week promises to be busy, as well. So, not sure when the next chapter of this will be out.