The second Olivia heard the door click shut, her shoulders started to shake, the tears once again streaming down her cheeks, one hand pressed to her mouth to stifle the sobs that were wracking her body. Barba crossed the living room and engulfed her in his embrace. She buried her head into his shoulder, her hands fisting around the front of his coat, her entire body shaking. He didn't try to sooth her, didn't try to assure her, didn't even try to think of something to say. He merely wrapped his arms around her, his mouth pressed to the side of her head, his lips buried in her hair, where he murmured kisses as the muffled cries turned into gut wrenching wails.
She didn't know when they had made it to the bed, or how Barba had managed to not only rid her of her coat and shoes, but to also strip down to his undershirt and dress pants, and she didn't care. She had fistfuls of his undershirt in her balled up fists – which had mascara and eyeliner stains from the puddle of tears – as her head rested on his chest. Her sobs had quieted down to the occasional sniffle or whimper, his arms tightening around her with each one, the hand that had found its way into her hair hadn't stopped running through the silky locks. She didn't know how long it had been since she stood huddled up against his chest in the living room, nor how long they lay in bed like that. Her mind couldn't help but wander back to all the other nights she spent alone in the dark, crying her eyes out as sobs wracked her body. She had started to believe that this wasn't in the books for her, that she was never going to find love. The thought made her press her body even closer to his, her fists balling up even tighter around his shirt, as she moved her head to rest in the crook of his neck. He seemed to know what was going through her head, if the 'Shh, I'm here,' that was whispered lovingly into her hair was any indication.
There were a thousand thoughts running through her head, a thousand scenarios, a thousand regrets, and a thousand memories. She went back to that rainy, stormy day. She remembered how she had been complaining about her bulging tummy, saying that she can't wait for that part to be over, so in the very least, she can change positions in bed without having to wake up. She remembered the grocery store cashier clerk as she smirked, saying that it was cute that she actually thought she was going to be getting any sleep once the little one was born. She remembered the pain that shot through her as she left the store, which she thought was her body's way of telling her to take it easy. She remembered how she crooned softly to the baby, placing one hand over where she felt her move. She told her how much she loved her, how she couldn't wait to meet her. That her room was almost ready, but that Olivia doubted she would be using it much, since she wasn't sure she'd be able to stay away from her. She told her about the new job at SVU, how excited she was about it. She remembered the storm as it gained momentum, and how the only building around was the small church. The pain was too much by this point, and she was getting really nervous. She had been having Braxton-Hicks lately, but never like this. She pushed the door open, and scurried inside, barely making it to the last bench, before she collapsed onto it. A nun spotted her, and made her way over to her. Asked her if she needed anything, and that's when Olivia grunted out the need to call an ambulance because something was wrong with her baby. She remembered the panic that laced through her as the nun informed her that the phone lines were down thanks to the storm, and the almost primal scream that escaped her as the next contraction – as she now knows – hit her. Everything after that happened too fast, and not fast enough at the same time. Her water broke, the nun told her the baby was coming, the panic and fear set in, the pain kept getting worse…..and then it was over. She got her wish, that part was over. Except there was no happily gurgling infant in her arms, nothing soothed the emptiness she suddenly felt. There was no toddling toddler ransacking her place, no worrying about where she was going to leave her little girl during all those all-nighters she pulled at SVU. People thought she was dedicated, addicted even, and in a way she was. But it's not like she had anything to go home to, on the contrary, she had every reason to avoid going home. All she had was the darkness, and the eerie silence. Both a cruel reminder of the life she lost. It had taken her weeks to get rid of all the baby stuff she had bought. Her mother told her to return them, but she couldn't bring herself to go to those stores, so she just donated them.
She remembered how the pain came back every year like clockwork, how she would ball up on her bed and cry until she had no more tears to shed. All the small toys she bought so she could place them at the marble gravestone. How the nuns told her that time heals all wounds, and that the pain shall become less with time. They lied. She had merely learned to live with it. Every time she handled an abused child case, it hurt. Every time she stumbled upon an unwanted child, it hurt. All those pedophiles she put away, kiddy porn makers, she did for her. She had spent hours each birthday talking to the grave. But it had all been for nothing.
She snuggled even further into Barba's chest. "She hates me," she mumbled brokenly. His arms tightened around her, as he rolled onto his side, so he can face her. She reluctantly lifted her head off his chest, and met his eyes. The hand that was carded in her hair, was now trapped under her head, while the one the held her cupped her cheek. "No, she doesn't," he assured her. "She's angry, she went through a lot. But the story that she knows is not the right story, and I know that once she finds out the truth, she'll change her mind."
"I held the baby for hours," she sobbed. "Begged her to open her eyes, prayed to anyone who was listening to bring her back," she hiccupped through her tears. "Why would they do this?" she asked, pleading with him to give her an answer, one that he simply did not possess.
"We'll get them, I promise." He vowed, shifting his head slightly so he can press a soft kiss to her forehead. She burrowed into him once more, her head nestling into the crook of his neck, as she finally let the exhaustion of the day send her into a restless sleep.
She had grocery bags in her arms, as she made her way down the hall towards her apartment. She maneuvered them so she can open the door, and hurriedly entered the apartment. It was dark, save for the light in her kitchen. She dropped the bags onto the counter, normally she wouldn't have so many grocery bags, but she had to pick up a few extra ingredients, so she can make her her favorite dish. She was about to call out to her, when she heard the floor boards creaking. She slowly walked into her living room, and came face to face with Lewis, gun drawn, and aiming straight at her head. He had that sickening smile on his face, his voice sickly sweet as he welcomed her home. She froze, her eyes staring at him, waiting for him to grab her. But to her surprise, he merely started to back away, his hand finding the light switch and flickering it on. Her heart sank when she saw what was behind him, or rather who was behind him. He had an arm around her now, his face pressing close to hers, as he pointed the gun at her head. A bloody, and tied up Savina sat in a chair, looking desperately at her, as Lewis ran a hand down the side of her body, and towards her thighs.
She bolted upright in bed, a thin layer of sweat covering her face and neck, her chest heaving as she tried to get her breathing under control. She felt Barba shift next to her, and heard the sound of the light switch, as the lamp bathed the room in its dim glow. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at him with tear-filled eyes. He knew she was going to dream about Lewis, but he did not expect the words that left her lips.
"He had her," she almost gasped, and he shook his head, shifting his body, so that he was partially facing her, as he took her face into his hands. "She was safe from him, she was never in his hands," he reminded her. He saw her hand snake under her shirt, frantically looking for the scar on her side, a scar that at the moment brought comfort rather than pain. It proved to her still fogged brain that Savina truly never endured anything at Lewis's hands, that she was the one who spent four days with him.
She let him gently guide her as she lay once more on her back, before he gently settled against the pillows himself. She curled up against his chest, her face once again buried in his broad shoulders, as he gently lulled her back to sleep. But this time, her dreams had a warmly smiling Savina lying in bed with her all day as she recovered from what Lewis did to her; her arms around her broken body at the hospital; the relief in her eyes when she sent unis to pick her up when Lewis escaped. She dreamt of the life they should've had; bringing her home for the first time, her first steps, the countless nights she was sure to spend with her in the crib at the precinct.
She woke up the next day to a grey sky, and an empty pillow. The clock read nine, and the air smelled faintly of coffee. She knew that Noah rarely slept till now, unless he had stayed up later than usual the night before, which she doubted he did after the day he had, so she was sure that once again, Barba had taken care of him, so he would let her get some rest. She gingerly climbed out of bed, and made her way towards the kitchen, where once more she could hear them both. But unlike yesterday, there was no giggling and laughter. There was Noah's babbling, and Barba's pain filled voice. It surprised her what a difference one day can make.
She found Noah sitting in his highchair, eating whatever breakfast Barba had placed in front of him, happily gurgling to himself, with Barba leaned against the counter, a large coffee mug in his hand, the other holding the phone to his ear. He smiled softly at her, extending the hand that held the coffee towards her, and she gratefully took it. Noah immediately reached for her, and after taking a big sip from her coffee, she obliged his request, and plucked him out of the chair. She needed to feel his embrace, she needed the assurance that at least one baby was not taken away from her. The clueless toddler merely wrapped his arms around her neck, as his head rested in the crook of her neck. She peppered light kisses into his hair, as she whispered lovingly to him.
"Olivia just woke up, so we should be there in an hour. I tried Carisi but I guess he's still asleep," he said into the phone, nodded once, and then said ended the call.
"That was Fin; lab found Savina's blood, saliva, fingerprints…." He trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish his sentence. Olivia seemingly catching on to the logical continuation, swallowed the growing lump in her throat, and saved him. "And body fluids," she whispered, and he nodded sadly.
"They also found another set of fingerprints, but until we can find Ms. Freed, we have nothing to compare them to," he informed her, and she solemnly nodded.
"Your mom is gonna meet us there?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Lucy called this morning, said that she was back, and is up for taking Noah off our hands if we wanted to take the day off, so I told her to come pick him up from the hospital, that way Mom can spend the day with Savina if we manage to tell her who you are," he explained.
"Thanks, Rafi. I don't know what I would've done without you," she said sincerely, and he smiled shyly – but sadly – at her.
"You never have to worry about that again," he assured her, as he pulled both her and Noah into him.
A short chapter I know, but I couldn't keep it as a part of the next one, or it would've been super long, and it might already be as it is.
I did not proof read this yet, so I'm sorry for any errors, I will try to get to them as soon as possible.