Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours, either. Unless you're Dick Wolf, in which case I highly recommend you contact me so we can chat about why Munch is getting to be less and less important on the show!

CHAPTER TEN

DOINK-DOINK

"Alan, we need to know the truth. Your father claims you raped Jessica."

"It's not true!"

"We need a DNA sample."

"He's not going to give you that."

"Ma'am, it could prove his innocence."

"I am his mother! I've already lost one child; don't put me at risk of losing another!"

Olivia was almost at her wit's end. She wanted desperately for the accusation against Alan to be false, but without a DNA sample, it was impossible to prove. Mrs. Turner was staunch in not allowing Alan to give up DNA.

"I am your mother. You won't. Not unless I say so."

"Mom, they need to know," said Alan, tears streaming down his face. "Can I just talk to you, Detective?"

"Is that all right, Mrs. Turner?"

"Fine. But don't try anything, Detective. I'll know."

Mrs. Turner left the room. Alan turned to Olivia, who sat opposite him.

"What happened, Alan?"

Alan swallowed hard. "I raped her."

"You raped your sister?"

"I didn't want to!"

"I don't understand," said Olivia. Alan was silent. "Did your father make you?"

Alan nodded. "He took pictures."

"Do you know where the pictures are?"

"Under his bed."

"Okay, Alan. I'm going to need your DNA to be sure you're not protecting anyone and then we'll get those pictures, okay?"

"Okay. How do you get my DNA?"

"A number of ways. You can give blood or just saliva."

"Here," said Alan. He took a pen out of his pocket and licked it. "I hate needles."

"Okay. We'll process it. Until then, you need to stay here."

It was nearly midnight. Elliot sat at his desk, head in his hands, staring at photo after photo of Alan and Jessica engaged in a disgusting act. The digital pictures were crystal clear, down to the very last tear on both the children's faces.

"Need a break?" asked Cragen as he came out of his office.

"Look at this, Captain," said Elliot, handing Cragen a particularly vile photo, which included Mr. Turner framing himself in the photo along with Alan and Jessica. Turner was grinning while the children copulated and sobbed. "Look."

Cragen looked at the picture with tired eyes. He let out a deep, long hiss of a sigh. He felt very old all of a sudden.

"And everyone says you'd never find nicer kids," said Elliot. "Tell me something, how does that work?"

"No idea," said Cragen. "I don't know how half the kids who live through that end up even partly normal."

"It's just hard to go home and see the photos of my kids and see how normal they are. I see these photos and…"

"I understand."

They were both quiet for a moment. Elliot looked through the last of the photos and closed his eyes for a moment. He fought back a tear and relaxed. It had been a trying day. Caroline came back from the vending machines carrying a handful of candy bars. She handed one to Elliot, one to Cragen, and put one on Fin's, Munch's, and Olivia's desks before opening the last for herself.

"Thanks," said Elliot. "But I couldn't eat."

"Rough stuff?"

"Take a look."

Caroline peered over Elliot's shoulder at the photos. Obviously, they upset her. Elliot had expected that. But neither he nor Cragen expected her to gasp, clap a hand to her mouth, and try not to sob.

"You okay?" asked Cragen.

"It's just…my God. I never…I'm not used to this."

"It takes time. You'll never really get used to it. It won't get altogether easier. But you'll get accustomed."

"That poor little thing."

"So, what's the deal with Alan?" asked Elliot.

"We're not charging him. George Turner admitted to forcing him to have sex with Jessica. He is, however, going to get psychiatric care…which I think we're all going to need after this case."

"Tell me about it," said Cragen.

"I'm heading out. See you tomorrow," said Caroline, grabbing her coat.

"Ready to leave?"

"Not just yet," said Elliot. "I'll be right out. Give me a second."

Cragen went into his office, retrieved his coat, and went out the door. Elliot knew he was waiting for him to be sure he didn't stay all night, so he was quick. He put the photos in an envelope, sealed it, and put them in a file. He pulled the photo of Jessica on the swings out and looked at her smiling face. He made the sign of the cross over himself, said a short prayer, and replaced the photo. Picking up his keys, he hoped that God had listened that night.