Once again thank you to the lovely Amilyn for the corrections and the great conversation.

Rafael

I feel awful as I drag myself off the sofa to head to work.

I've already pushed the hearing from midday, and it can't be rescheduled again.

When I show up to a hearing, it means a lot more than getting another tick in the win column of my stats. There was a time, not that long ago, that every case was merely another entry in my balance sheet of success…the players of the case simply supporting actors to my story. Now, even the least important court appearance, the shortest evidentiary hearing, has the power to alter lives. Not just the life of the accused, but the life of the accuser….especially in a case that we may not eventually win. Every appearance in a courtroom, is a validation for a victim. It tells them that they are worth fighting for, that what they were subjected to was wrong, that they deserve to be heard.

It sounds big-headed but I become the voice of the survivor, I am their advocate, and I cannot let this woman down.

Liv struggles to smile, as I pull on my suit, my armour, she knows the details of the hearing I am heading to, she wants me to go, even as she curls into herself.

There are no words from either of us, just a lingering, gentle kiss before she pushes an errant lock of my hair back, nodding quickly and shoving me away.

I don't allow myself to look back. I switch off as much of the man as possible, relying on my training and preparation.

As expected the hearing is little more than a formality, but for the woman who shakes as I assure her that everything is going well, I know it means so much more.

I spend some time with her, going through the next steps, explaining what I need from her, and the anticipated timeline. I never begrudge this time, it reminds me of the human cost to every statistic in my record, and it motivates me to never lose track of the importance of my job, but I'm also conscious of the hour, I don't want to miss the DA before he leaves for the night. He is very often still found working in his office long after the official close of business, but this feels like something that needs to treated more formally than an after hours chat.

I leave my briefcase into my office, asking my assistant to tell McCoy's office I need a moment. Carmen has been with me too long to take any offence at the sharp tone, or lack of any apparent manners. She knows I respect and value her, but I am not a man who is very good at the little polite social gestures that my other half seems to perfect so effortlessly.

I take a breath, steeling myself for the argument to come, and there is no doubting it will be an argument…

I hear Carmen telling me that "He can see you now".

Nodding tightly, I fix my tie as she gestures to her own neck.

"Time to face the music!" I mutter almost too softly for her to hear.

A quick tap on the door, precedes the familiar boom of "Enter!"

"Rafael" he greets me standing and shaking my hand, "What can I do for you?"

A quick gesture of dismissal has his assistant leaving, closing the door behind him, as Jack offers me a seat. I fall into it gratefully.

"It's about my investigator….." I start.

"You fired him."

There is no mistaking the irritation on the DA's face. His words are a statement, despite the questioning tone.

In spite of our familiarity, even casual friendliness, I have had many a scotch in this office, I will not misjudge my position in this moment.

A quick "no" is too likely to lead to an angry outburst, so I stay quiet, meeting his eye to make it clear I have something to say.

The man sits back into his chair, folding his hands. This is my invitation to say whatever I am holding back.

"Cassidy fucked up. I immediately suspended him." This man's icy glare is legendary and I am seeing it now to its full effect. "Notwithstanding his…..chequered past…..in the department, he has been an asset to this office."

McCoy raises an eyebrow, I'm not telling him anything he is unaware of and he is losing patience.

"His….reactions…..whilst unacceptable, were not as…..incomprehensible…..as I first believed."

"I thought his hot-headedness was a matter of some record."

"It is, Sir. And were this merely another example of such, there would be no discussion, he would currently be searching for employment. But there are….extenuating circumstances…..that cannot be ignored."

The man before me, has been a lawyer for most of his life, he is smart and has risen to the position of DA because he can read subtext as clearly as the declared words.

I try not to flinch under his eye.

"It was a paedophile case?"

"A doctor, serial abuser….."

The man in front of me seems to be weighing up the facts.

"He has kids?"

I know my poker face is slipping as my jaw tightens when I shake my head.

There is a moment of silence. The DA is making connections, calculations, and he needs no more input from me. I knew he wouldn't.

He asks no questions.

No confirmation, or questions are necessary.

When he looks to me again, I don't miss that he is waiting to hear what I have to say.

"Unpaid suspension. It goes on his record….mandatory anger management class and counselling"

He considers my suggestion.

Swiping his head quickly from left to right, "Not good enough Rafael!"

Fuck, I can see I'm losing him. He is conscious of the example this would send to the entire office.

"Jack…" his head rises at change of tone, and he gestures to me to speak, "He's an asshole, but he's a good investigator. He's usually 'money' on the stand. He cares…..and what happened, well it won't happen again"

Jack raises a questioning brow

"The….circumstances…..that contributed to his meltdown, have changed.

Jack, I saw his devastation when the judge dismissed that case. He will feel guilt, and the effects of this, for the rest of his life.

His remorse is not in any doubt."

I'm not sure I'm moving the man before me. He seems very set on making an example of Cassidy.

"I'm not sure he'll survive losing this…."

It's a lot more than I intended to say, but as the words tumble out of my mouth I realise that I genuinely am worried about the man's survival should he lose his job at this time.

McCoy knows I am not a fan of Cassidy's, he knows we are not friends, and my unhidden concern seems to sway him…slightly.

"He's on suspension for now….we will revisit this."

It's simultaneously less than I had hoped for, and more than I expected…Maybe Cassidy really can keep his job…..

I nod my understanding, and know I'm being dismissed when Jack opens the file in front of him.

"Thank, Jack" is all I can whisper as I flee back to my office.

For all his hard nosed bluster, I know McCoy cares about his staff, and the thought that Cassidy may not survive losing his job is all that has gained him this temporary reprieve. I understand how grievous his loss of control was, I know I cannot save his job, McCoy will not be swayed by a third party.

I respect McCoy. And when I stop to think about, of course he is right. I cannot speak for Cassidy, nobody can…..except the man himself.

Fuck.

He's a hot-head at the very best of times. Now he his raw and vulnerable…I don't like my chances.

My phone is in my hand, and I'm about to call Liv when I realise that I need to treat him like an adult. He is an employee, a grown man, and we both have to find a way to continue our professional relationship.

The thought is disconcerting.

My hand scrubs across my face and I take a deep breath, grabbing the phone with a resolve I don't actually possess.

The number rings a few times, but I'm relatively sure he will answer a call from the office number of his boss, and eventually a hesitant ".."Cassidy" replaces the ringing.

"Cassidy, Barba here…" I don't allow the man any time to say anything that may make me reconsider. "I've just spoken to the DA. Your suspension is non-negotiable, but I don't want you to lose your job…."

The silence that greets my pronouncement seems to be rooted in shock as he finally mutters…

"What can I do?"

He didn't ask what he needed to do, he asked what he could do. It doesn't seem like much, but I know it is an acknowledgment, of the wrong he has done, of his willingness to do anything he can to rectify it.

"I don't know what McCoy wants, but my guess, you need to speak to him…"

Despite how easily I say the words, I know there is no ease in what I am asking of him. I expect a long pause, maybe a refusal, what I don't expect is his gentle agreement.

"That's fair."

I'm shocked into silence, and surprised by his level of awareness with his next question.

"What did you tell him?"

I expected a man who would see me as the enemy, one who I would have to cajole into fighting for himself. This completely down-trodden man is someone who McCoy needs to see, to really understand….

"I didn't tell him, I gave him enough that he extrapolated a likely causation."

This is met with complete silence. I can only imagine how many nightmares are coming to life for the man I'm speaking to.

"You know as well as I do Cassidy, the shame in this is not yours.

I cannot imagine how difficult this is…..I really can't….

But you are a good investigator, and I don't want you to lose your job."

I don't know what I expect to hear from the other end of the phone, but his answer once more, is unexpected.

"What about Reggie?"

I didn't think this man had the ability to surprise me to this degree. Well, not in a positive way.

"He's getting help…Rita Calhoun has taken his case, and is already peppering us with paperwork."

"Thanks, Barba."

I give him an indistinct 'hmmm'. I know how hard was for him to show this simple gratitude, so I cannot reject it, but I also can't acknowledge it.

"I'm sure it's the last thing you feel like doing, but come in…..see McCoy…"

Now it's my turn to get an indistinct murmur in response.

"I'm making an appointment, just after close of business today. The place will be emptier…

And Cassidy, leave your temper at home!"

The halfhearted snigger this garners is more reaction than I have felt from the man for the rest of the conversation, and it feels much closer to our normal interaction, so I follow it quickly.

"And smart-assery is not going to do you any favours either. Rein it in!"

Something that sounds suspiciously like 'okay' precedesa click that is the only clue that he has hung up, and I curse at the phone in frustration.

That man can irritate me in a way that not many can!

After his assistant very reluctantly agrees to check if the DA is willing to schedule such a last minute, after-hours appointment, I receive an email which I immediately forward on to Cassidy.

It's in his hands now.

Unfortunately letting it go is not as simple as saying it, and as I attempt to clear the pile of paperwork, I find my attention constantly drawn to the clock, trying to anticipate what may be happening on the next floor.

I have myself convinced that even someone as prickly as Cassidy would not leave, in such circumstances, without some sort of communication, but as time progresses it seems more and more likely that he has done just that.

Yet again, it is not his better qualities I am deliberating, when I lift my head to see McCoy.

He makes his way straight over to where he knows I keep a bottle of scotch, gesturing to an empty glass as he pours for himself.

I nod, pushing back from my desk, and running my hand across my face for what feels like the millionth time today.

We both sip at our drinks in silence, looking into nothingness.

Finally it is Jack who breaks the leaden silence…

"Three weeks unpaid suspension, anger management, counselling and he's down a pay grade."

It's a definite punishment. One that everyone is going to see….

But it seems fair and the man keeps his job.

I nod, trying not to sigh in relief.

"Keep him off cases he's liable to blow up!"

Once again, I agree quickly.

"And keep an eye on him…"

This is harder to agree to, he's not an easy man to deal with, he and I don't share a great working relationship, never mind any sort of personal relationship….but as my head tilts up and down again, I find I want to do what I can to help him.

I meet his eye when he sighs deeply.

"How do we protect our people, when we have no idea what is in their past?"

I have no answer for him.

I think of some examples, just from our squad, Rollins hid her past until she had almost no choice, Cassidy would probably never have said anything it wasn't for his need to help Reggie, Amaro wouldn't have admitted to his father's physical abuse if he hadn't been faced with that situation, Liv would not have acknowledged the attack she experienced at Sealview…and I haven't admitted my own father's physical aggressions.

It doesn't feel like something I should tell the man sitting in my office, but perhaps it would be beneficial were I able to mention it to Cassidy, under the right circumstances…..

Seemingly Jack never expected an answer because he heads toward the door.

"Don't make a habit of it! Goodnight, Rafael."

I flinch visibly.

'Make a habit' of what? I have no idea what he is talking about….

"You would be amazed at the things I know about…..especially when I'm not supposed to…." He adds with a raised eyebrow, before he disappears from view.

Ah!

Why am I not surprised he knows more than he is letting on?

I shiver as I wonder exactly how far his knowledge goes. No doubt, he knew Cassidy was a suspect in West's murder, there was no way of hiding that…but I dread to think what else he is alluding to…..

—

Amazingly, after such tumult, there is little evidence of the events that nearly lost him his job when Cassidy returns from suspension.

I know he is attending his anger management classes, and showing up to all his counselling sessions….but beyond that, I have no idea how the man is doing.

After the morning Olivia found out about the abuse he suffered, Cassidy diligently answered her frequent check-up calls, telling her he was fine, and didn't want to talk about it. Never once deviating from this position, even when weeks passed into months.

If it wasn't such an important event, I would chalk it up to being a typical reaction to someone saying or doing something under the influence of alcohol that they would not otherwise say or do.

And perhaps, when Liv arrived at his apartment so early that morning, he was less hungover than we believed…maybe he was still very drunk. Maybe his intoxication loosened his tongue to such a degree that he simply cannot revisit anything discussed between them.

Liv tried everything to kick start the conversation, opening up more about her assault at Sealview, from her account, he listened carefully, trying to comfort her and assure her that she did nothing wrong, but still, he remains silent on his own experiences.

He answers her calls, but steadfastly refuses all attempts to meet face-to-face.

I'm not sure if he is embarrassed? Or ashamed? Or wary of her?

With me, he is still prickly, still prone to barely concealed fits of temper, but when I ask if he is okay to continue on certain cases, or ask if he needs some time, he seems to accept the enquiries with little emotion, simply brushing aside my concerns as unfounded.

I'm reticent to describe it as such, but our communication is entirely and stereotypically male.

We don't touch on emotions or feelings, concentrating only on actions.

There is no discussion of the elephant in the room.

I'm aware that this is not a healthy situation. And I can't deny that it is most likely not a successful, long term approach. But I try to do what he seems to need, to honour his unspoken wishes.

We have had more than one argument over it, Liv and I.

She thinks I should push him to confront what he seems to be denying.

I understand her position, and she is right, but as I keep trying to explain, I don't have that relationship with him.

I can gently offer that I am here to listen when it feels warranted, but I can't push him. And perhaps by not pushing, when he is ready, I may even be a better proposition for him to turn to because of my acceptance.

I wish that the disclosure of his most deeply held secret led to some huge steps forward, to him becoming his best-self, to his life changing for the better…..but real life is seldom so kind.

He is still a solitary figure in the office. His colleagues can only speculate as to how he kept his job after his epic meltdown. And the only real change I have seen in his behaviour is that he has cut back on his alcohol consumption. This lends itself very nicely to his colleagues assuming he had some sort of alcohol problem, that he is addressing….and this must have been part of the reason for his behaviour.

He has undoubtedly heard such mutterings but has done nothing to counter them.

I can only guess that such gossip is much preferable to the alternative for him. So he shows up to work sober, not hung-over and is seldom seen with a beer in his hand on his infrequent social interactions.

He still looks haunted when you get passed the perma-frown.

The black circles under his eyes confirm he still isn't sleeping properly every night.

He seems happy to never be assigned to anything even close to my harder SVU cases.

He is clearly still suffering.

It is not possible to completely leave behind something like that.

He comes to work, he does as he asked, often actually going 'above and beyond'.

When he is finally called to the stand once more, he is an almost perfect witness, answering every question carefully, in even tones, with no hint of bias.

It is only when you look closely that you see the deep breath as he takes his seat, or the relief when he is released.

I watch him carefully picking his way through life, avoiding Liv, and any discussion of those couple of days, knowing that there will be some sort of explosion. How can there not be? All I can do is keep my eye on him, as Jack asked, and try to ensure his next, and hopefully final, eruption doesn't threaten to derail his entire life once more.