A/N: Happy new year! Sorry for the update delay; holidays got in the way.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Cragen backpedals. "Do you think she can she handle this?"

"Emotionally or physically?"

Cragen pauses. "Both."

"I don't know."

"Is she well enough to come to the precinct?"

Elliot hesitates.

"Amaro and I can come to you," Cragen offers. "But … to be perfectly honest, it would be better if she came here."

"All right. Let me wake her up and tell her."

"Tell me what?" Olivia pads down the hallway, her hair mussed from sleep.

"Oh? She's awake. One second." He gives her the phone. "It's Cragen."

"Captain?" She listens, her eyebrows raised as she hears. "Okay, I'll be there. No, no, you don't have to come here. I'm fine. I can come there."

The squadroom is deserted, even for a Saturday. That's Elliot's first impression as he steps off the elevator, for the second time in two days.

Cragen is waiting when the doors open. "Olivia," he greets warmly. "I'm sorry for dragging you here."

She pounces on the implication that she isn't up to this. "Captain, of course. I want to find these people as much as you do."

"You look a lot better! How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she says, exasperated.

He looks on worriedly. "Any shortness of breath?"

"No."

In the microsecond that Elliot is out of Olivia's field of vision, he catches Cragen's eye, inches his head once to the left, once to the right. Not true. Cragen gives a subtle nod.

"I punctured a lung once," her boss now tells her. "Had the same surgery as you did."

She eyes him skeptically. "You did? When?"

"Before you were born. High school football injury. It took me six weeks to feel like I could breathe normally again."

She isn't falling for it. "I'm fine, really, Captain. Stop worrying about me."

Cragen eyes her for an extra second. "Okay. Amaro's waiting in a room where we can talk."

She glances around the squadroom, taking in its emptiness. "Where is everybody?"

"Just us today." He ushers her and Elliot to the far end, where they make a right and walk down the short corridor, to the last room. It's the one most secluded from the bustle of the main room, and where Amaro is waiting for them.

"What is this?" Olivia stops short at the doorway. She eyes the spartan room with the barred window, the lone rectangular table, three empty seats and Amaro. She's been in this room many, many times. But there's one small difference: at the far end of the table is a small platter of assorted bagels, cream cheese and sliced melon. There is also a canteen of coffee, orange juice, paper plates, and a stack of Styrofoam cups.

"Just some space to talk," Cragen says.

"Hey Liv," greets Amaro, standing up.

"Hi," she says, wary. She looks back at Cragen, then to Elliot with a touch of embarrassment. "Should he come in too?"

Cragen looks at Elliot. "Liv, that's up to you."

Elliot watches as she tries to pull off an indifferent shrug. "He probably knows as much as I do, at this point."

"Might be good," Cragen says neutrally.

Elliot follows Olivia into the room. He sits next to her, while Cragen takes his seat across from them, next to Amaro.

Cragen gestures at the bagels. "Please, have some breakfast. This might be a long day."

She ignores the food. "You're making me nervous."

"I'm sorry," Cragen says. "Not our intent."

"Just … do me the courtesy, please. Tell me what the hell is going on."

Amaro nods, getting down to business. He shows her two blown-up photographs. One is of a thirty-something Hispanic-looking woman with dark hair and eyes; the other, a school photo of a little girl who's her spitting image. "This is Viva Núñez and her five-year-old daughter, Luisa. Do you recognize them?"

She studies the photos, frowns. "Should I?"

"Liv," Cragen says gently. "It's not an interrogation. Nobody thinks you did anything to them."

"I know, but … you obviously think I left something out of my story."

"Not on purpose, no." Amaro says.

She shoots Nick a glare. Et tu? "You think I don't remember every second of those four days of hell?"

Cragen leans forward, clasps his hands on the tabletop. "It's likely that you don't. Because Viva was scheduled to clean the beach home at twelve-noon, the same day you were found, and she specifically told the homeowners that she had to bring her daughter that day. Far as we can tell, you arrived there around seven or eight that morning, after driving all night. But you didn't call 9-1-1 until four fifty-six in the afternoon."

Olivia peers closely at the photos. "I don't … think I recognize them, no."

Elliot thinks she's telling the truth, at least as she remembers it.

"Maybe they just didn't show up that day," Olivia suggests.

Amaro shakes his head. "Homeowners say this woman has been with them for years, and never misses a day, and has never been more than five minutes late. The little girl's been absent from school since that day, and the school hasn't heard from them."

"The father?"

"He died of heat exhaustion trying to cross the border."

She pauses. "Well, if they came to the beach house and Lewis answered the door, then it's possible …. I mean, I remember everything that happened while he was in my presence, but I can't vouch for what he did in another room."

"We know," Cragen says. "But do you remember hearing anything? A scuffle? Voices? A gunshot?"

"Give me some credit, Captain. I would remember a gunshot."

"Okay," he replies. "Then let's go through the part right before you broke free."

She flinches. "I've already …" But then she catches herself, as if realizing that that's exactly what everyone she has ever interviewed has said when they have something to hide. "Okay, if you think that'll … okay."

"What was he doing right before you broke free?" Amaro asks.

She takes in a sharp breath, glances at Elliot. "He …. uh … he …. "

"Liv – " Elliot says.

"He was just about to rape me."

Cragen seems taken aback. "But he didn't."

"No. I told you. He didn't. It never got to that. I broke free. I clocked him."

Nick puts up a hand. "Understood, Liv. We're just trying to piece together the timeline."

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, you're right. I'm sorry."

Nick nods. "So, you were restrained right as he was about to rape you, but you broke free right at that moment?"

Elliot watches her as she responds.

"Y…yes."

"When had you managed to loosen the rod?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you'd been there for several hours already. You said that you were cuffed to the bed the entire time, and that he'd left you alone earlier to ditch the car and buy supplies. But you weren't able to free yourself then. So you must've gotten the rod loose right before you clocked him."

Elliot could swear she looks confused.

"Then … I guess it was right before."

"Well, how did you loosen it without his noticing?"

She thinks for a second. Elliot can see – and he suspects that Nick and Cragen can too – that this is the point at which her memory ends. "I guess, um, maybe he left the room for a minute."

Cragen nods encouragingly. "Okay, okay, good. Okay, so think. What made him leave the room?"

She searches her memory. "Maybe … a knock at the front door?" Her eyes widen in excitement. "Yes, yes! There was a knock."

Cragen nods. "Good, good. So, there's a knock at the door. He's … about to…"

"Rape me," she supplies flatly.

"Is the knock on the door why he didn't?"

The memory appears to come to her as she speaks. "Y….es. Yes. I … screamed for help. But …. he covered my mouth with new tape. Then he went to answer it."

Nick receives a call just then, and jumps up to answer it, huddling in the corner, his index finger plugged into his non-listening ear.

Elliot watches her face in profile, as her eyes jump from Nick to Cragen to the tabletop. She is rattled.

Cragen picks up the questioning solo. "How long was he at the door?"

"I …. maybe a few minutes?"

"And then?"

"He … came back into the room."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Who did he say it was?"

"He said … " Again, the memory is not at the ready. She has to think hard. And then dawning sets in. "Oh my God, I think you're right. He said something about the housekeeper, and her daughter."

Cragen seems relieved, like he wasn't completely sure she was being truthful about what she remembered. "Okay, okay. This is good. So … what happened next?"

"He said that the housekeeper had come with her daughter. I asked him what he'd done to them. He said nothing, so far."

"And then?"

Olivia continues, her face blanching. "He talked about … the little girl. He said she was cute." She looks pained. "I can't believe I didn't remember that."

Seeing how upset she is at having been caught in an apparent omission, Cragen softens. "Liv, it's okay not to remember every single detail. It's a miracle you remember this much, considering what you'd been through."

She hangs her head.

In the corner, Amaro is already concluding his call. "You're sure? In the master bedroom? You're sure it was the master? Yes. Okay, thank you."

Nick retakes his seat. "Sorry about that." He picks up the questioning where Cragen left off, having been listening enough to follow. "Okay, so he comes back into the bedroom. He tells you it was the housekeeper and her daughter at the door. It sounds like he was implying they were still in the house, yes?"

"Y-yes."

"But he didn't bring them into the master bedroom where you were?"

She frowns. "No."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so what happened next?"

"Well, I … had loosened the rod while he was answering the door. He came back in, and …" She thinks again.

"Were you still on the bed?"

"Yes."

"So you hadn't already freed yourself?"

Elliot sees where they're going with this.

But Olivia continues to look at them, deer-in-the-headlights. "Well, I had the rod loose, but I had to wait for him to get near me so I could surprise him."

Cragen picks up the thought. "So, it sounds like he wasn't gone long enough for you to free yourself completely, and get in a proper position to clock him right as he walked in."

"I … guess not."

Elliot's never heard her sound so unsure of anything.

"Great. Okay." Cragen continues. "So he comes back into the room, and you're still restrained. What happened next?"

"I started taunting him."

"How?"

"Well, he mentioned the little girl was cute, and the implication was that he might rape her. I told him it must be because he wasn't man enough to rape me."

A silence passes through the room. Cragen and Amaro exchange glances.

"What?" she demands, blushing. "It was just a tactic! I needed him to get close enough to me to swing at him!"

Cragen puts up a hand. "We know. I know. That makes perfect sense. It's just that none of this in your original statement."

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice almost breaking. "Maybe I didn't remember the exact details."

Elliot is troubled by how they're handling this; she thinks they're accusing her of hiding something. Under the table, he reaches over, takes her hand. She grasps it, squeezes it firmly over her lap.

"Okay," Nick says, trying to redirect her attention. "So, you taunted him. And he came at you?"

"Yes. It worked. He started to loosen his belt and approach the bed, and I waited till he was close enough to me and I pulled off the rod and I swung. He dropped the gun and he fell down."

"Okay. And then?"

"It's like I said in my statement. I grabbed his gun. And I swung a few more times to knock him out. And then I got the keys from his pocket and uncuffed myself, and cuffed him to the front of the bed."

"And then?"

She blinks at them, looking betrayed. "Do you not believe me?"

"No, actually, everything you've said up till this point is completely consistent with forensics," says Cragen. "It's what happened after that's a bit … murky."

It's Nick's turn to ask a question. "Liv, what about the housekeeper and her daughter?"

"I … found them tied up in the second bedroom. I'm sorry, I don't know why I didn't remember that before."

"It's okay. But you remember them now?"

"Yes."

"Did you bring them to the master bedroom?"

She frowns. "No. Why would I … why would I do that? I took them to the front door and I got them out of there!"

"Did you say anything to them?"

She looks at them guiltily. "I … might've told them I was a police officer."

"Okay. And then?"

Elliot watches Amaro; her partner is obviously skeptical of what she's now saying. He guesses the call he just received has further changed the known facts.

Olivia continues. "I went back to him. And I, uh, thought about what to do."

Cragen leans in. "You mean, whether to kill him."

She tucks her chin. Under the table, she continues to trap Elliot's hand in her lap. "Yes."

"But you didn't." It's not a question, but a statement of fact.

"I didn't shoot him, no."

"But …?"

She lets a silence pass. Eyes still downcast, she appears to be deciding whether to confess.

"I thought I did kill him."

A short silence passes through the room, and then Cragen raises an eyebrow. "Explain that."

"He woke up. He started goading me. Daring me to shoot him."

"What did you do?"

"It's in my statement …"

"Tell us again." Cragen softens his tone. "Please."

She lets a short silence pass. And then, "Captain, I didn't tell … um, I didn't …"

Cragen ducks his head, trying to catch her eye. "Look, Olivia, whatever you did, or didn't do, or think you did… absolutely nobody thinks you did anything wrong here, okay?"

"But I did." Her voice is barely a squeak.

"Liv," Elliot warns quietly.

She puts up a hand. "No, no. I'm sorry. I have to say this. I lost it. I beat the hell out of him."

"Where did you beat him?" Cragen presses.

"On the floor, in the bedr-"

"No, I mean, where on his body?"

She looks confused by the question. "Everywhere! His face, his torso, his … groin. I totally lost control. It was … unjustified."

"Liv," Cragen says kindly. "You didn't do any of that."

Olivia thrusts her seat back, nearly sending it toppling backward, and springs to her feet, backing up against the two-way mirror. "I did! I still don't know how he survived!"

"He survived, because this part didn't happen. Everything you said up until this point checks out, but this part doesn't," Cragen says. He gestures to her empty chair, beseeching her. "Please." When she makes no move to return, he tries again. "Olivia, you know as well as anyone, if there are aspects of this that you're not remembering accurately, that's not your fault. Please come back to the table. It's okay. We're all on your side here."

Tentatively, she returns, looking increasingly worn down. Elliot wants to reach out, to comfort her, but he doesn't want to embarrass her.

"Are you sure about this?" she asks. Whatever confidence she had before is gone.

"Positive," Cragen replies. "Intake records at Rikers catalog two blows to the head, one to the hand, a broken nose and alcohol intoxication. Nothing serious enough to have caused the kind of damage you're describing."

She shakes her head. "I'm telling you, that's impossible."

"When we got to you," Nick says, "I went in there and saw him on the floor myself. He was unconscious, but otherwise he looked okay to me. You didn't beat him the way you think you did."

"So … I just hallucinated this?"

"It's possible," Cragen says gently. "You had drugs in your system that easily could've impaired you that way." He pauses. "Or …"

"Or what?" she demands.

"Liv," Nicks starts again. "The phone call I just got. There was a urine stain on the floor in the corner of the master bedroom. Hormone levels say it was from a female, prepubescent."

Olivia gasps. "Oh ... my God."

Nick nods. "The little girl, and probably her mother too, were in the room with you."

She is horrified. "But I … I swear, I got them out! I untied them, I brought them to the front door, and I told them to run. I'm not imagining that!"

"Olivia," Cragen says, "if he raped and murdered a five year-old in front of you, it's possible you could block that out."

"You were not responsible for these people," Nick adds. "If he murdered this woman and her daughter, that's not your fault."

She hangs her head.

"Look, why don't we take a break?" Cragen suggests. He reaches for the plate of bagels, hovers them in front of Olivia. "Please, humor me."

She obliges him, takes a bagel at random, lays it on the table in front of her. Elliot jumps up, grabs his own bagel, the cream cheese, two paper plates, gives her one. He busies himself making a sandwich.

"There's a team searching the property as we speak," Amaro says, catching Elliot's eye.

"For bodies," Olivia finishes.

"Yes."

"They didn't do that the first time around?"

"Apparently they weren't very thorough, because they missed the urine stain. And they only searched the house itself, not the land or the beach."

Cragen clears his throat. "Elliot, Nick, will you let us have the room for a minute?"

Amaro jumps up, like this part was rehearsed. Elliot stands too, following Nick's lead. Olivia, suspicious as ever, looks on, forlorn, watches the two of them leave the room. After they've departed, Cragen gets up and closes the blinds.

"Let's take a walk," Nick says, keeping his voice low.

Elliot follows Amaro up the stairs, to the locker room, where there is privacy. Elliot shuts the door behind him. The minute they're alone, he lays in. "Look. She thinks you're ambushing her in there! Whatever's happening here, you have to tell her too."

Amaro puts up two hands. "We are, he is. He's asking her about the rape kit."

Elliot's face falls. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"I was thinking, though. Maybe we were wrong about the fluids on the gun. We only tested what the fluids were, not whose they were. Maybe it was the housekeep-"

"It wasn't."

Elliot's heart sinks. "You already know?"

Amaro nods. "Lab results came back while you were on the way. Blood, and other … fluids … are a one-hundred-point-zero-zero-zero percent match to Olivia's DNA. No trace of anyone else's, other than a third set of prints we can't identify."

Elliot drops to the bench, slouching. "Damn it. Damn it. Not that I wish it on the housekeeper, but …"

"I know."

"I mean, I knew. I knew we weren't wrong. But I still hoped … we were."

"Me too," Amaro says.

"How much did you tell Cragen about the gun?"

"Not a word. But he figured it out himself."

Elliot grimaces. "How much is he telling her?"

"Nothing, for now. Until we find this woman and her daughter, we don't have the whole story. No use needlessly upsetting her. My guess is that the set of prints on the gun – besides Olivia's and Lewis' – are the housekeeper's. But I doubt she raped Olivia."

"So what's your theory then?" Elliot asks.

"Honestly? I'm not really sure at this point. Something isn't adding up. But if the housekeeper is alive, and there are eyewitnesses to this, it changes our entire conception of those last few hours."

"Yeah."

Elliot thinks back to last night, to Olivia's nightmare. The little girl. And he realizes something: It's been three days since he and Amaro confronted her about the gun. Elliot's spent the last twenty-odd hours with her, and in that time she has been unusually candid with him, and yet never once did she express curiosity about the gun, about what led him and Amaro to be so sure about what had been done to her with it. Nor, he notes, did she blink an eye the previous night when he confronted her with the impossibility that she had beaten Lewis to within an inch of his life. And even after her violent dream, she has remained steadfast about what did – and did not – happen to her.

It's the dream, ultimately, that gives her away. She was not unconscious during those final hours with Lewis. Whatever did happen, she has repressed it to the point of becoming convinced of the alternate narrative her mind created to protect her.

Downstairs, there's an audible ruckus. Amaro furrows his eyebrows as Elliot strains to hear.

Nick identifies the voice at the same moment Elliot does. "Cassidy!"

They look at each other, and then both spring up from the bench at the same time, rush out of the room and bolt down the staircase.

Cassidy looks around the deserted room like a surprise party is about to jump out.

"Olivia!" he shouts. "Is anybody here?"

Amaro makes it down the stair first. "Cassidy! Cassidy, she's here, man. There was a development in the case and we needed her down here."

"What happened? Is she all right? I had four missed calls from Cragen! Nobody picked up! I got on the first train."

"She's fine," Elliot tells him. He puts up two hands, peace offering-style. "Honest, she's just talking to Cragen."

Cassidy is red-faced. "I've called her, like, fifty times! I mean I know she's been through hell, but to just ignore – "

And now, Elliot gets in his face. "Calm the fuck down."

Cassidy backs up a step. "I want to see her."

Elliot clenches his jaw. "I told you, she's fine. There's no big conspiracy here. Her phone got damaged. Cragen called me, I found her and told her he needed her." It's not technically a lie.

Cassidy directs his ire at Amaro. "It's Saturday," he hisses. "And she's on leave. She shouldn't be here! She just had major surgery! Figure the case out on your own, for Christ's sake!"

It's Amaro's turn to get in Cassidy's face. "HEY! In case you haven't noticed, there's an ongoing investigation, and we think she has information that she doesn't realize. You think Cragen dragged her down here against her will? She made a decision to come, because she's a fucking adult, and this is her unit! Or did you think she's no longer capable of handling being in this squad, just because you couldn't?"

Elliot anticipates the fist before Cassidy has a chance to swing it. He jumps in, grabs Cassidy's arm from behind before he can strike Amaro. "Will you please relax? We're telling you the truth. She's right down the hall talking to Cragen."

Cassidy, to his credit, seems to finally take this information at face value. He plunks down onto a chair. "I'm sorry, I just was frantic."

"Look man," Elliot starts, mollified. Despite everything, he's always liked Cassidy, and, knowing now how Olivia feels about him, Elliot feels a little sorry for him. "The phone thing – I'm sure it was just an oversight. If she didn't call you, it's probably because she didn't know your number by heart. When was the last time you memorized a cell number?"

But Amaro is feeling no such magnanimity. He looks on, glowering.

Elliot continues. "I'll go tell her you're here." He bites his lower lip, hesitating. "Just … be nice, okay?"

Brian's demeanor instantly softens. "Yeah, yeah, of course I will. Of course."

With Olivia and Cassidy holed up in the locker room upstairs, Elliot sits with his former boss and Amaro back in the interrogation room.

"She admitted that she never had the rape kit done," Cragen tells them. He looks shellshocked. "She was sure she didn't need it and she thought the doctor was a prick."

Amaro hangs his head. "Damn." He shakes his head. "I should've … " He lets the remark hang.

"Don," Elliot pipes up. "I hope you're not going to reprimand – "

Cragen stops him. "You know me better than that."

"Okay."

"I can't believe we missed this."

"In fairness, Captain, if fucking Nassau PD hadn't missed that urine stain, we would've known that – "

Cragen shakes his head at Amaro. "Nick, don't. Just … don't. I was in the room when she gave her statement. Her affect changed as soon as she got to the part where she broke free. There were no details. And then she all but came out and said that she'd beaten the crap out of him in self-defense, and not one of us stopped her, said, wait a second, what are you talking about? It should've been obvious from a mile away that something wasn't right about the story. But it was exactly the story that we wanted to hear."

"She was adamant that she wasn't raped," Amaro offers. "Still is."

Cragen shakes his head. "Not an excuse. Besides coming out of this alive, it was the second-least likely thing to happen."

Elliot decides to jump in. "Okay, so let's try to figure out what we think did happen." He looks to Cragen. "If I may?"

Cragen splays a hand. "Go ahead. You're obviously as up to speed as we are."

"Well, we know that Olivia called 9-1-1 close to five o'clock. Assuming Ms. Núñez arrived at her usual time, noon, how do we account for almost five hours?"

"And her blood alcohol was still through the roof when it got measured at the hospital," Nick adds. "He had to have attacked her later in the afternoon."

Elliot nods grimly. "But we do know that at some point, Olivia got the rod loose and clocked him. We've been thinking that that happened hours later, because it would just be assumed she would've called 9-1-1 right after freeing herself. But if the reason Olivia was able to break free in the first place was because of the distraction of Ms. Núñez's arrival, and she did, in fact, arrive around noon, then Olivia must've gotten loose at … what, 12:15?"

"She could just be wrong about that," Cragen says. "Maybe Ms. Núñez and her daughter did show up at noon, and it was five hours later when Olivia finally got loose. She might be misremembering what the distraction was that led him to leave the room. For all we know, he spent the whole afternoon raping all three of them."

They let the remark hang uncomfortably in the air.

"It's possible," Nick concedes finally. "But it doesn't explain Ms. Núñez's prints on the gun. If those are, in fact, her prints."

She was raped in front of them. Elliot is sure of this now. But the nightmare she told him about in confidence, in his own bed, is none of their business.

"Here's what I don't get," Cragen interjects. "When you two came to me with the gun two nights ago – and I still don't want to know how or why you found it – you said you'd asked Olivia about it, and she denied knowing what you were talking about."

"Right," Nick confirms.

"Well, did you tell her your theory?"

"We told her we had the gun tested, we didn't say for what, but it was implied. We told her we knew she'd been raped with her own gun," Nick answers.

"What was her reaction?"

"She flat out denied it. And then she kicked both of us out of the apartment."

Cragen turns to Elliot. "But it sounds like you've spent some time with her since then. Has she asked you about it at all?"

"No. And I don't think it's because she's hiding it. I think she doesn't remember it."

"I understand that, but isn't that all the more reason she'd be curious why you think it happened?"

"You would think," Elliot says. "But every time I've tried to broach it, she either tells me I'm wrong, or changes the subject."

Cragen cocks his head. "That isn't good."

Elliot nods. "And the part about beating Lewis to within an inch of his life? She was completely convinced she'd done it. At least she was, until fifteen minutes ago."

Nick again receives a call, but this time he's on and off in two seconds. "No bodies on the property. They searched every inch of the beach and the front yard and driveway with cadaver dogs. Twice."

"Which means they're probably alive," Elliot says.

There's a short knock on the door, and Olivia steps back in. All three men look up at her guiltily, expecting her wrath for talking about the case without her, but her mind is elsewhere. She keeps a poker face, quietly retakes her seat, her bagel still untouched in front of her.

"All good?" Amaro says.

"Yeah," she replies.

"Cassidy still here?" Cragen asks, casually.

"No, he left. Captain, I'm sorry for –"

But Cragen cuts her off. "None of my business."

"Thanks."

Elliot studies her out of the corner of his eye. She is fidgety, and her eyes blotted red. He guesses that the confrontation with Cassidy didn't go well. He wishes he could ask her.

But before they have a chance to update her, Olivia again jumps up from the table. "Please, excuse me for a minute." As quickly as she appeared in the room, she now vanishes.

The three men are left seated, a little stunned, but none says a word. After a few moments of awkward silence, Elliot excuses himself too. "I'll go see …" He leaves the statement hanging.

He checks the squadroom, the locker room, the break room. That only leaves the women's restroom. He hesitates outside the door, debating whether the circumstances merit disregarding her privacy.

"Liv?" he calls softly through the door. It's hard to hear anything over the din of the squadroom's ceiling fans. He knocks, but if the women's room is as cavernous as the men's, she probably can't hear through the door.

Finally, unable to stand the suspense, he cautiously nudges open the door, careful not to barrel in. "Liv?" he calls again. He takes a step inside.

He sees her feet in the last stall, but they're sideways; he's pretty sure she's only standing there, leaning against the far wall.

"Elliot, I'm fine," she says through the door. Her voice is laced with raw emotion.

"Yeah?"

He hears the stall door unlatch, and she steps out. She is weary-looking and her face is flushed, but she is dry-eyed. She glances at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry about … all that."

"Nothing to apologize about."

She goes to the sink, turns on the faucet, lets the water run for a second. "He was angry."

"I know."

She pumps the soap, starts to scrub her hands, though he thinks she's just looking for an excuse not to face him. "I guess he … had a right to be. I mean, I'm a detective. I could've figured out how to call him if I'd really tried."

"You have a lot on your mind."

She gives a short laugh, gestures to the left, in the direction of the squadroom. "I'll say. I might've watched a little girl get raped and I have no memory of it. And my own boss thinks I fabricated my statement."

"For what it's worth, the search turned up no bodies on the property, so they're probably alive." He pauses. "And Cragen doesn't think that."

She blinks, shakes her head as if to ward off his response, then resumes washing her hands. "Anyways, I told him I wanted to break up."

He doesn't challenge her on the change of subject. "Yeah? How did he take it?"

Olivia shrugs, starts to rinse her hands. "Not well. He tried to tell me that I wasn't in the right emotional state to make such a major decision. He said I'd been manipulated into coming here today."

"What did you say?"

"I told him that if that's what he thought, then he didn't know me at all."

He chuckles. "Good for you."

Still mindlessly rinsing her hands, she shakes her head at the mirror. "I shouldn't have said it. I think it really wounded him."

"He'll get over it," he says mildly.

Her face clouds over. "After I said it, he, uh, asked me if I'd cheated on him. With you."

Elliot holds his breath.

Olivia switches off the faucet, but keeps her wet hands suspended in the sink. "I guess I tensed up. He took that as a yes. He … got a little nasty."

Elliot takes a step forward. But Olivia puts up a hand. "Nothing I couldn't handle. He was just hurt."

"But you didn't cheat."

"Technically, I didn't." She finally turns to face him, and cautiously meets his eyes.

A decade and a half after first meeting her, and sporting his oversized t-shirt, messy ponytail and standing flat-footed in the decrepit women's bathroom, she is still impossibly beautiful. He wonders, now, how in the world he ever had the discipline to work by her side for twelve years without ever once kissing her. Right now, it's all he can do to resist pulling her into his arms, and never letting go.

"Are you … okay?"

Oblivious to his thoughts, she nods. "I'm relieved, actually."

"You could've told him the truth about last night. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know. But I realized it hurt him less to think that I had cheated, than that I was breaking up with him because I really didn't love him."

He stares dumbly, trying to put it all together.

She shifts on her feet, looks at him awkwardly. "Could you just give me a few minutes? I need to … process all this alone. Please?"

"Of course." He nods, backs out towards the door. "Of course."

She stops him. "Wait." She crosses the room, meets him at the door. She tentatively reaches up, cups his bicep. She finally meets his eyes, letting her full vulnerability show. "Look, El, everything I told you yesterday is true, okay?"

"Okay."

"Everything."

"Me too."

His mind reeling, he heads back down the hall to where Cragen and Amaro still sit.

His former boss is finishing a call just as he reenters the room.

When he hangs up, he addresses Elliot and Nick together. "They found Viva Núñez and her daughter. They're fine. They've been holed up with her brother-in-law in Astoria. He runs this informal safe house for undocumented people who think they're about to be deported. Patrol's picking Viva up now and bringing her straight here."

"Thank God," Amaro says.

Cragen nods. "Hopefully Ms. Núñez can tell us what happened. Because Olivia sure as hell can't."