A.N.: Again, sorry about the wait. I don't really have a plan for this story so I've just been seeing where this is going and sometimes it takes longer than others to come up with the next chapter. So please excuse any delay. Also thanks to all those who have reviewed. Please continue to do so. Thank you.

The room is spinning out of control and she can't seem to stop it. Dan. Mike's Tavern. She couldn't believe it. It's him. She has to sit down. She has to get of here. Now. Speak. She needs to speak. She needs to excuse herself but she can't find the words. This is all my fault.

The room is spinning out of control and she can't seem to stop it. She couldn't believe it. She has to sit down. She has to get of here. . She needs to speak. She needs to excuse herself but she can't find the words. .

Elliot looks over at his partner with worry. She looks like she is about to collapse. He toys with the idea of putting his hand on her back to steady her, discretely of course, but decides against it. She would want to remain as professional as possible in front of the victim and other officers. "Detective Benson," he says finally. She shakes her head slightly as she comes out of her daze and looks at him in confusion. He nods letting her know what his intention was.

Olivia gives him a look of understanding and gratitude in return. "Would you excuse me for a moment," she manages. Nodding politely at the victim, she quickly slips out of the apartment. She walks down the hall till she finds a back stairwell. The door slams shut behind her and finally she is alone. Taking a deep breath, she leans back against the cool concrete wall for support. As the guilt fills her head she begins to pace. After a few moments she takes a seat on the steps, practically collapsing.

Because of her cowardliness, her fear, her selfishness, another woman suffered. She enabled that man to assault Dawn Hawkins. That woman's life would never be the same and it was all her fault. How many more lives will he destroy before she musters up the courage to step forward?

Olivia buries her head in her hands and fights the urge to cry. The slam of the heavy metal door breaks into her thoughts. She doesn't need to look up to know who's standing in front of her. "Elliot," she says before lifting her head.

He gives her a soft smile and sits down besides her. "You okay?" he asks trying not to sound overly concerned or condescending.

"I'm fine," she replies unconvincingly. She looks into his doubting blue eyes, silently begging him not to continue the inquiry into her feelings. Not here. Not now. He relents immediately. There's a time and place for everything.

"Come on, I'll take you home." His voice is soft and gentle.

"What? No. No, I don't want to go home. I want to do my job," she protests whole heartedly.

Elliot tilts his head with disapproval. "Olivia," he starts.

"Don't Elliot. I'm doing this."

Running his hand over his face, he takes a long look at his partner. He knows she won't back down, not now, not when she has something to prove. He can only hope that she comes to make the right decision on her own, because there's no talking her into doing anything. "Fine."

Olivia stands up and straightens herself out. "CSU find any prints in the apartment?" she asks not missing a beat.

Elliot shakes his head, amazed at her ability to ignore her own feelings. "Yeah, but if he says its consentual the prints aren't gonna do us any good."

"Yeah," she agrees quietly as she slips past him. "I know."

Olivia proceeds to process the crime scene without letting her personal feelings interfere, but is unable to shake the feeling of anxiety growing inside her. After collecting all the evidence and taking the victim's statement Elliot and Olivia are called back to the station house.

"I'm sorry," Casey says sifting through some papers. "I can't get an arrest warrant with this. I need more evidence."

"We have the victim's statement," Elliot counters.

"That's not good enough," Casey states flatly.

"Come on Counselor, you have to do something," he pleads, more so for his partner than for the victim.

Olivia watches helplessly as Dawn Hawkins' case plays out exactly the way she knew her own would. However, she can't take comfort in knowing she was right because at the same time the tiny glimmer of hope she had been holding onto, that feeling buried deep inside her head that maybe everything would be alright, is slowly slipping away.

"I can't. My hands are tied Detective. You get me more and I'll see what I can do. For now, bring him in for questioning but don't arrest him. Hopefully, he'll incriminate himself." Casey slides some papers into her briefcase and closes it. "I'm sorry." With that she exits the squad room.

The frustrated detectives watch the young ADA leave. They're not mad at her though, Casey is a great assistant district attorney who constantly went to bat for the unit. They are just tired of seeing the system protect the wrong people.

"Okay people," Cragen says, drawing the detectives' attention back to the case. "Munch, Fin, go back to Dawn's apartment building and talk to her neighbors. See if they heard anything unusual."

Munch nods and stands up. "On it," Fin says following his partner out.

"You two," Cragen orders looking at Benson and Stabler, "go pick this guy up. Let's see if he gives us anything."

Olivia looks up at her boss with wide-eyed shock. She never even considered having to talk to him. It never crossed her mind that working this case meant interrogating her rapist. Without saying a word she stands up and starts toward the exit.

"Liv," Elliot calls after her. Olivia quickens her pace in an attempt to avoid him. "God, she walks fast," he mutters to himself as he follows her to the street. "How did you get out here so fast?" he asks finally catching up to her at the car.

Olivia shrugs. "I had to get out of there."

Elliot puts his hand on her shoulder. "Olivia, I really think you should take yourself of this case."

"I can't do that," she replies shaking her head and his grasp.

"Why not?" His voice rises unintentionally. He doesn't mean to sound demanding but he can't sit idly any longer. He has watched her put herself through hell all week without objecting. He didn't try to fight her. He didn't push her into anything. He barely argued with her. He let her make all her own decisions, no matter how much he disagreed. He knows her well enough to understand that she had to deal with this in her own way. He trusts her, respects her decisions. But this was too much, even for her.

"I have to do my job," she insists.

"No, you don't," he argues, "the world isn't gonna stop if you take a few days off." She looks at him sharply. "No one's gonna think any less of you Olivia. You don't have to tell anyone. Just say you don't feel well. Cragen won't doubt you."

She shakes her head. "No! Don't you get it, Elliot? I can't let this guy take any more from me than he already has. Especially not my job."

Elliot adjusts his wrist watch awkwardly as he scrambles for a response. "I understand that," he says slowly. "But you can't let your desire to prove yourself override your need to heal. It's too much."

"I just wanna get my life back to normal," she says, her voice tired.

"Questioning your rapist isn't normal."

Shortly after one p.m., Benson and Stabler pull up to Mike's Tavern. Neither one moves. "You ready?" Elliot asks glancing over at his partner. His attempt to convince her to take some time off had failed.

Olivia takes a deep breath and nods. Her eyes wander aimlessly. She taps her foot nervously on the floor taking more and more deep breaths. She can't move. "No," she exhales. "Take me back to the station house."

Elliot nods, pleased with his friend's decision. They begin to drive. Five minutes pass. "You sure you don't want me to take you home? I'll tell Cragen you got sick."

"No." He continues to drive. Another five minutes pass. "I have to tell him," she says suddenly, as if the thought just dawned on her.

Elliot turns his head toward her in shock. "What?"

"I have to tell Cragen," she repeats trying to convince herself she's making the right decision.

"You sure you want to do that?" he asks eagerly.

She nods slowly. "I don't want to. I have to. I can't do this. I can't work this case, and I won't lie to my boss." She looks at him and swallows hard. "I have to tell him."

"Okay," Elliot says calmly. "I think you're doing the right thing." He senses the dread in her voice and tries to reassure her.

"What are you do doing back here so soon?" Cragen asks seeing the two detectives entering the squad room. "Did you talk to our guy?" Olivia looks at her boss nervously. Although she had mentally rehearsed how she was going to tell him in the car, now she couldn't even speak. She turns her gaze to Elliot.

"No," Elliot says stepping forward, answering Olivia's silent request. "We didn't go in."

Cragen's arms fold over his chest and his eyebrows lower. "Why not?"

"Captain, can I talk to you?" Olivia finally speaks.

Cragen senses the urgency in her voice. "Sure. In my office." He turns around and goes into the small room.

"You want me to go with you?" Elliot asks Olivia.

"No. I got to do this myself," she answers lowly.

"Okay," he replies sitting down at his desk, "if you need me, you know where to find me."

"Captain," Olivia greets walking into Cragen's office and closing the door behind her.

Cragen settles himself behind his desk. "Detective Benson," he returns professionally. "What's on your mind?"