"This is chicken, right?" Elliot asks scrunching his face in mild disgust at the plate of food in front of him.
Olivia smiles and narrows her eyes at the man sitting across from her. "So, it's not like the high class eateries you're accustomed to," she replies, pointing a fork at him playfully. "But its food."
"High class eateries?" he returns with amusement. "I'm lucky if I get a table at Applebee's." Olivia laughs and lowers her head. Her eyes scan the food in front of her. She has eaten here plenty of times with no problem, but now just the smell of the food is making her sick.
The small dimly lit diner is almost empty. A few patrons dine quietly. Waiters shuffle busily across the floor, from the kitchen to the various tables, balancing plates of food in their hands. The lack of noise makes Olivia feel incredibly self-conscious, like every move or sound she makes is under public scrutiny. Finally giving up, Olivia sighs and pushes the plate aside. Elliot frowns at her.
"Liv, you should eat," he tells her seriously.
"Don't Elliot. I'm an adult."
"I know," he returns. "I just...you should...I'm just worried about you."
Olivia rolls her eyes. "Well, don't be."
"Easier said then done," he says with a grin. "Although," he starts to poke his food with his fork, "I don't blame you for not wanting to eat this." He brings his fork to his mouth with an unsure look.
Elliot finishes his meal as Olivia sips a glass of water. "I thought this food was disgusting?" she asks with a smirk. She folds her arms across her chest and leans back.
"It is." Elliot wipes his face with a cloth napkin and leans back, placing his hand over his full stomach.
"That didn't stop you from cleaning your plate," she points out.
He shrugs. "I was hungry. Besides my mother always said to finish everything on your plate."
"I didn't know mothers actually said things like that."
"What?" Elliot looks at her in shock. "Your mother didn't tell you to never leave the house without clean underwear, or that if you sit too close to the TV you'll go blind."
Olivia shakes her head with a slight smile. "My mother wasn't like other mothers."
"Sorry," Elliot whispers. He lowers his eyes with shame. He wasn't even thinking about her issues with her mother.
"Don't be," Olivia says simply. "So how are the kids?"
Elliot nods, acknowledging the deliberate change of subject. "Good," he starts.
They continue to talk for another twenty minutes before the waiter places a check on the table. "Will there be anything else?" the waiter asks.
"No, that's all," Elliot answers. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. Olivia goes for her bag. "I got it." He waves her off and throws some bills on the table.
"No Elliot," she protests, taking the check. "It's on me." Before he has a chance to put up a fight, Olivia speaks up again. "Please, El, I owe you. Just let me do this."
Elliot takes a long look at his partner. "You don't owe me anything, but if you insist."
"I do." She quickly pays the bill and stands up. "You ready?"
The two partners start the walk home in silence. "What's up with you?" Olivia finally asks her partner after about a half of a block.
Elliot shakes his head and burrows his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Nothing."
"No. It's definitely something. You're being too quiet. And you have that look."
"What look?" he returns lightly.
"That look. Like you wanna say something but don't know if you should. Come on Elliot, just spit it out."
He stops walking and turns to face her. Olivia stops walking also, anxiously awaiting for her partner to speak. His eyes fall on her with seriousness unmatched for the night. "Why don't you report it, Liv?" he finally says.
Olivia sighs and lowers her eyes. "I already told you, Elliot. It won't go anywhere. No ADA would ever try a case like that. I just don't see the point of putting myself through all that when I already know the outcome."
"Liv, you don't know how it will turn out. I understand that you're scared but you'll have the whole squad behind you." His eyes plead with her. He can't understand how she could live knowing this man is still out there. It's been eating him alive and he wasn't even the one victimized.
"I don't want the whole squad behind me," she insists. "Don't you understand?" she cries. "I don't want anyone to know. I don't need them thinking I can't take care of myself."
He takes a step closer to her. "No one would ever think that about you, Olivia," he states firmly. "They care about you. We all care about you."
"Why? Cause I'm just a helpless woman?" she spits coldly.
Elliot shakes his head, unfazed by her harsh tone. "Because you're family."
Olivia considers his words. "Just drop it Elliot." She starts to walk again.
"Would you ever tell a victim to just drop it?" Suddenly her feet stop moving. She turns back to face him. "Would you ever tell them to just forget it ever happened like you're doing?"
"No. This is different," she counters.
"How?"
Olivia brings her eyes to meet his. He could see the tears forming. "I just can't," she says quietly.
Three nights later Olivia lies in her bed still thinking about what Elliot had said that night coming home from the diner. Was she any different from other victims? Was she weaker because she couldn't face what happened to her? She told women every day to fight for justice, but she couldn't even bring herself to report it. Did that make her a hypocrite? As she writhes restlessly under the covers, she struggles to come to terms with her feelings. The guilt, anger, loneliness, and fear run freely through her mind.
Finally, as her heavy eyelids slowly fall shut and she slips into a soft slumber, a loud ringing sound disturbs the stillness of the room. Startled, Olivia scrambles to sit up and reaches for her gun before realizing that the sound is coming from her cell phone. She takes a deeps breath and tries to calm herself down.
"Benson," she says into the phone, trying to sound as normal as possible. She listens carefully. Quickly she dresses and leaves her apartment. Another case. Another victim.
The address she was given isn't far but nighttime road work delays her. When she does finally reaches it she sees Elliot standing in front of the apartment building.
"I beat you here," he says with a grin. "All the way from Queens."
Olivia rolls her eyes. "Its not a race. Besides I got stuck in traffic."
"At two-thirty in the morning?" he asks skeptically.
"They're re-paving the streets."
He nods. "Still, you gotta admit my driving skills are pretty impressive."
She shakes her head and moves onto the case. "So what do you know?"
"Just what they told me. Thirty year old woman says she was raped in her apartment," he answers.
"Break-in?" Olivia inquires.
Elliot shakes his head. "Acquaintance. She let him in." Olivia stops for a moment. Her own painful memories flood her head. "You gonna be okay?"
Olivia sucks in air and nods. "Fine."
They flash their badges and introduce themselves to the uniformed officers in front of the victim's door. The uniforms return the greeting. "Vic's name is Dawn Hawkins," one of the officers tell them. The officers quickly divulge all the facts already known to the two detectives.
"Thanks," Elliot replies as he steps past them and into the apartment of Dawn Hawkins. Olivia follows, offering a simple nod to the uniforms.
Olivia scans the room. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. She looks at the couch and sees the pillows are askew. And on the coffee table is a half empty glass of water. She figures the attack must have taken place there. Finally she brings her eyes across the small apartment to see a light haired woman sitting at the kitchen table. She looks relatively unharmed, although her hair and make up is messed up. Olivia stands in the middle of the room lost in the darkness of her own memories.
Noticing his partner's hesitation and hoping to give Olivia a moment to collect herself, Elliot approaches the victim alone. "Dawn, I'm Detective Stabler," he begins softly, "and this is my partner Detective Benson." At the sound of her name Olivia snaps out of her daze and walks over to the two. "Could you tell us what happened?"
Dawn looks up at the pair briefly. Tears make their way down her already tear-stained cheeks. "He seemed like a nice guy," she mutters in a meek voice. Olivia looks down at her with unimaginable understanding. "I said no but he wouldn't stop. He just wouldn't stop," she goes on without making eye contact. Olivia fights the urge to flee the room and cry. She must stand strong.
"Do you know the man who attacked you Miss Hawkins?" Elliot questions.
Dawn nods and looks at the detectives again. "His name is Dan. I don't know his last name. He works at Mike's Tavern."
Suddenly Olivia feels all the strength escape her body. Her eyes widen. Her stomach turns. And for a moment she can't remember how to breathe.