Olivia obviously needs a lot of rest but I doubt she'd want to take a nap in the middle of the day, esp in bed. Could be really sweet and sad if she ended up sleeping against Rafael on the sofa and slipped down to rest her head in his lap, with a pillow he puts there because he's over cautious like that, and woke up in a brief panic until she realizes he's stroking her hair?

-hoosierfriend

(I used part of this prompt here, the waking up part will be in the next chapter)


Fin offered to walk Olivia up to her apartment, but Olivia needed a few moments to herself. She had no problems walking through the lobby, climbing the stairs, or waiting in the elevator, but she hesitated when her hand met the doorknob.

Olivia wanted to see Rafael. She wanted him to hold her, comfort her, and play with her hair the way that only he knew how. Noah would be sleeping, however, so there was a significant chance that the inquisitive lawyer would ask about the emotionally straining events of the night, which was the real cause for the hesitation.

She took a deep breath and entered the dim apartment, hanging her coat on the coat rack and taking in the scene before her. The apartment was only lit by the kitchen counter lights, which bathed the whole space in a dim yellowish glow, and the muted TV.

Rafael, after he sensed her entrance, rose from the couch to investigate her wellbeing of the woman in front of him. She looked physically fine from what he could see, if a little emotionally beat up, but he resisted the urge to stop and frisk her for injuries. That was, for obvious reasons, not a good idea. So instead, he just observed her as she settled in.

"Hey, Rafa." She dropped her purse by the front door and slipped off her shoes, then turned to face the man standing behind her. "I... I just need to say something."

"Anything."

"I can't talk about tonight right now." Olivia promised herself she wouldn't cry again, so she took a moment to turn around and compose herself before continuing. "And I really need you to respect that. I know that... I know you're curious, and I'm so... sorry. But it's going to have to wait for tomorrow." Her voice wobbled again.

"Whatever you want, Liv. Anything."

Olivia became visibly relieved, but her tears betrayed what she was truly feeling. Perhaps the emotional day, or maybe the pure sense of gratitude towards both Fin and Rafael, was too much.

Rafael, ignoring his curiosity and guilt, slowly and carefully approached the emotional woman so that she had ample time to stop his movement if she wasn't comfortable with physical contact. Instead, she closed the gap and leaned right into his gentle embrace. Without her signature heeled boots, she was about an inch shorter than him and her right cheek soon rested on his left shoulder as she breathed in the scent of his cologne.

The familiar spice of his cologne – most likely some expensive brand that Olivia wouldn't recognize – helped pacify her mind as he caressed her arms and spine, forming distinct shapes with his pointer finger. Identifying them put her in some sort of daze.

Smilie face. House. Triangle. The word "Hi".

The warmth of his neck on her forehead was oddly comforting. He felt her cheek muscles contract, and the lack of tell-tale shaking told him that it must have been a smile. They swayed slightly, but only millimeters in each direction. He gently motioned for her to pull away, but only enough so that he could cup her face while his other hand maintained its position on her back. Their stood chest to chest, feeling each other's warm breath as they synced their breathing.

She only lightly whispered, "Hi", mimicking his drawing from just before.

This was the closest he had ever been to Olivia, their bodies pressed together in a way that wasn't entirely sexual but wasn't exactly platonic, either. Rafael glanced at her lips, losing any resemblance of composure.

Rafael breathed a quiet "Hey."

The moment – whatever it was – was interrupted as the apartment was flooded with the dramatic cries of her son. She remained still for a few moments, lowering her head under Rafael's chin, before addressing the boy who was now standing in the kitchen; clad in dinosaur footie pajamas.

"Mommmmy!"

"I know, my love." The pair pulled apart, both of their chests feeling suddenly colder than they had felt only moments before. "I'm coming, sweetheart."

"Bad dreams!" Noah's tears were wiped away as Olivia kneeled to embrace him. "Spiders."

Olivia couldn't help the small smile, although she tried to hide it. Noah came face to face with his first spider no less than a week ago when he found the rather large creature in the corner of his bedroom; he refused to sleep in the "bug room" for days afterwards.

She picked him up and he rested his head against her as she held him close. "Oh, my sweet boy. It's going to be okay." Her body bounced slightly as she continued to rock him, and the scared boy held onto her discolored neck tightly. Olivia made eye contact with Rafael while drawing patterns on Noah's back with her fingers to soothe the boy, very similar to the motions Rafael made moments earlier. "It's all going to be okay, my love. I promise."

The composed professional felt as if he was falling apart at the seams. His tough outer shell was beginning to crack, and his stone heart was softening as a new feature of his soul was unlocked. Rafael had observed Olivia with her son before – so many times that the frequency was almost suspicious – but the soft yellow lighting and the intimacy of the entire situation struck a chord. The sense that he was invading their privacy was long gone, but a feeling of belonging was beginning to form. Even though he knew Olivia was past the childbearing window, something primal was activated as he watched her coddle her "baby" boy. The self-admonishment at thinking such a thought was unusually half-hearted.

"Noah, honey, it's time to go back to bed, okay? I can read you a short story." Olivia couldn't lie, she was in a rush because her body was itching for a warm shower to scrub off Joe's touch and she was beginning to feel dirtier by the second as she thought about the rape kit that was performed only hours before.

"I not go sleep wiff the bugs." Noah saw his mother's reaction. "I not."

She began to think about the swabs and the probing and the pictures. Then, Joe's filthy hands as they traveled lower and lower until– she needed to snap out of it. "Please, Noah."

"I not!"

Luckily for him, Olivia was exhausted and didn't have the energy to argue, even though this attitude would have to be discussed in the morning. "Now, my love, I need to take shower whether you are awake or not. So as a special treat, maybe you could watch cartoons with Uncle Rafa until you fall asleep?"

"Yes!" Noah jumped with joy and Olivia realized that she probably made the wrong decision if she wanted to lull him to sleep. The excited boy – being up at 9, let alone watching television, was a rarity – turned to his Uncle Rafa and left no room for discussion. "We see Scooby!"

Rafael, keeping his voice down because he understood Olivia's goals, kept his voice low as he sat down and began to find the program. "Scooby-Doo? Again?", he groaned with a hushed over-dramatic tone as Noah crawled into his lap and settled in for his episode.


The comforting warmth of a typical shower was gradually replaced as Olivia adjusted the temperature higher and higher until condensation droplets began to pour down the mirror on the other side of the curtain. She scrubbed her skin raw with the loofah but didn't stop standing under the heavy stream when the hot water began to irritate her tender wounds.

She tried her best not to focus on why she was doing this to herself, but the presence of those men in her mind seemed to be an inherent component of these types of showers.

Olivia thought of Harris when she raised her hands to clean her hair. She thought of the position she was in nearly a decade ago in that horrid basement, her hands handcuffed above her head to the locked door while she desperately tried to keep her mouth sealed from any intrusion.

Olivia thought of Lewis when her soapy hand passed over each bump and valley on her marred skin, some were white while others were pink. She thought about his blowtorch, his wire hangers, his cigarettes, and his sickening smile when he used all those tools to create ear-shattering screams that nobody heard. Those toxic memories were hard to deter and even harder to exile once they took hold.

Most of all, Olivia thought about Joe. She thought about the way he entered her with force, the way he groped her breasts, and the way her vaginal walls felt when his unwelcome member invaded her flesh and stretched it until Olivia was sure she was being torn in half. She thought about the rape kit and all the embarrassing vulnerability that went with it, the trial that would occur if Joe survived is injuries, and the shame of having to tell Rafael.

Eventually, the heat disappeared. Understanding that the water must have gone cold after such a long time in the shower, she finished up and quickly got dressed into her pajamas without totally drying off.


Rafael moved the sleeping boy off of his lap – his legs were going to sleep under Noah's weight – and onto the cushion. Although he should probably move Noah into the adorable racecar bed, Rafael was focused on The Wire – the volume lowered significantly – and was busy enjoying the domesticity of the quiet moment.

He reflexively turned his head to the opening bathroom door as Olivia emerged. Rafael's eyes immediately focused on the redness of her skin and her puffy eyes, but decided to wait until she approached him. The cushion on his left squished under the newfound weight and the back of the couch was beginning to dampen as her wet head rested against it.

Heeding her earlier warning that she didn't want to talk about it tonight, he didn't mention his observances. He did, however, catalog them into the newly-formed list of concerns.

She paused to take in the scene before her, glad that Noah had found sleep and was leaning contently against the side of Rafael's chest. His right arm reached out to rest upon the back of the couch above Noah's peaceful body, giving off a sense of protection. Olivia was tempted to take a picture of her boys – correction, her boy an her best friend – but knew that she'd never escape Rafael's gaze long enough to take the photo discreetly.

She then saw what was playing on the abnormally quiet television. "The Wire? Please tell me you didn't let Noah watch this."

Rafael chuckled. "Consider it an introductory course into his future career as a detective."

She was somewhat confident in his newly discovered child-care abilities (there was an effort to stop herself from thinking the word "parenting") but she also knew that the tough lawyer didn't second-guess decisions once he made up his mind. His joke was met with a half-frown.

"I'm kidding, Liv. Noah had been asleep for ages before I even considered turning this on."

Now content, and finding immense comfort in the reassurance of his babysitting capabilities, she turned up the volume slightly. "What season?"

"The old ones. 1 or 2, I think. But I haven't really been watching." Rafael spoke softly, as their voices could still be heard above the ones of the fictional characters.

If he wasn't watching the television, then he must have been thinking.

Rafael was a man of above-average intelligence, and Olivia was sure that he would connect the dots if he tried hard enough. Rafael Barba's thinking was dangerous to begin with, but the heavy weight of her secret made her anxiety even worse. At least until she found the courage to come clean.

Finding the woman beside him was gazing absentmindedly into the distance, he hoped that she wasn't experiencing a flashback that he wasn't equipped to deal with. "Still with me?"

"Oh. Uh… Yeah."

"I think I actually remember this episode now. This is where things really get interesting with the wire taps." He stopped to make sure she was alert and attentive before continuing. "Want me to make us some popcorn?"

"I'm not hungry. Besides, if you get up, you might wake Noah."

He huffed in agreement.

Although the intricacies of the fictional narcotics case were unfolding before their eyes – and Olivia was watching eagerly to focus on anything other than her own thoughts – Rafael was struggling to not think about how close their bodies were only an hour before. How her hair smelled. How her breasts pushed up against his chest. How close they were to crossing that line.

Stop it. This is not the time or place.

His self-admonishment was harsher than usual because he knew that sitting here, with Noah in his arms and Olivia by his side, was a privilege. A privilege that shouldn't be taken advantage of, and certainly one that could be taken away at any second.

Before he had any time to reluctantly mull over his theories about where Olivia was tonight, he felt her body shift and the new weight of her head – her hair was still damp – graced his left shoulder. Her head fell into a fall-then-startle-awake-then-go-back-to-sleep-then-repeat cycle, which he ended by letting her head continue its natural course of resting in his lap.

Her body – barely conscious but semi-aware – adjusted to the new position and her legs swung over unto the cushions until her entire body was prone.

Being the overprotective man that he was, Rafael shifted slightly to cover her with the Thomas The Train blanket and put one of the throw pillows – the shaggy orange ones he pretentiously thought where hideous – between her head and his muscular legs.

Rafael drifted off to sleep as well, accompanied by the ambient sounds of the television and both Bensons leaning against him.