NOTE: Not a doctor, shh! In other words, all medical information comes from Google or the show, my friends. Enjoy!
The silence in the car was deafening as the two detectives refused to look at each other, currently heading off to see if they could ID their Jane Doe. Olivia shifted in her seat as Amaro stared up at the traffic light.
"So." Nick's hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.
Olivia swallowed. "So what?"
"Are you going to tell me where the hell you went?" Amaro asked, sounding seriously annoyed at his partner.
Olivia felt a stab of guilt as she lied to him, "I told you," she said waspishly, "I had to step out for a sec."
Benson had allowed herself less than a minute to get herself put together, flattening her hair, and smoothing out wrinkles before high tailing it down to where Amaro had been pacing back and forth in the bullpen. She'd made Barba swear to wait 5 minutes before leaving the roof, promising to meet him later that night for drinks at a place of his choosing.
Amaro pressed on the gas a little too hard causing them to jerk forward. "Yeah, well, you can't just 'step out for a sec' Liv, you know that. What the hell has got you so," he searched for the word, "distracted?"
Olivia ignored the question, tucking her hair behind her ear nervously. "Spare me the lecture, Nick, I'm not the one the cap told to 'take 5.'"
Nick bristled and opened his mouth to continue when he took in her flushed cheeks and the way her hands shook a little. "Liv, are you okay?"
She shot him a sharp look. "I'm fine, Nick, drop it." She paused, her expression growing worried. "Is the captain mad?"
"Well, he's not happy."
"Dammit." She ran her hand down her face. As Olivia took in her partner's concerned expression, she caved. "I fucked up, Nick."
"Oh?" Now he looked really concerned.
"I should've been there."
"Yeah, I got that part." Amaro rolled his eyes. God, it was hard to get anything out of his partner.
Her voice was small. "I'm sorry."
Amaro's expression softened. "Don't apologize to me, it's the case I'm worried about here." She winced at that and felt the guilt overwhelm her again. "What's got you so twisted up Benson, and don't you dare say you're fine."
Olivia let out a shaky laugh and ran her hand through her hair nervously. "If I tell you, you can't tell anyone, Nick, I mean it."
Nick's eyes widened. "Okay now you're scaring me, Liv, what the hell did you do?"
Benson rolled her eyes, "Oh my god Nick, seriously. Nothing that bad."
He eyed her suspiciously before making up his mind. "Fine. I won't tell anyone. What'd you do?"
"I made out with Barba on the roof." It came out in a rush. She cringed heavily. Why'd it have to sound so fucking middle school?
There was a moment of silence as her words sunk in before the inevitable eruption. "You did what?!" Olivia had the distinct feeling that if they hadn't been stopped at another red light, he would've crashed the car.
Her face was bright red now. "We're going to have drinks later."
"Barba? Like BARBA, Barba?!"
Oh my god kill me. "It just happened!"
"On the ROOF?" His eyes were almost comically wide as he gaped at her.
Okay, now she was annoyed. She crossed her arms and glared back at him. "Are you going to say anything new or just keep repeating what I said?"
"How? No, fuck that—Why?!"
"I don't know!" Olivia was affronted, her voice unusually shrill. "God, do you think we planned this?!"
"Hell if I know! Since when are you and Barba a thing?"
She covered her face with her hands. "Oh my god, I am so not talking about this right now."
"You can't just throw out that you and Barba fucked on the roof and then NOT talk about it!"
That got her attention. She dropped her hands and glared at him, "Hey, I did NOT say 'fucked,' Amaro, and you know it!"
"Sorry, sorry." He sounded apologetic. There was a pause before he spoke tentatively. "Is it… serious?"
She gave him a thin smile. "That's what the drinks are for. Don't know what he wants yet." Silence fell again before she let out a strained laugh, remembering the way her sergeant had immediately zeroed in on her windswept hair with a shrewd expression. "I think Munch knows."
Amaro let out a chuckle. "Oh, I bet he does. Nothing gets past the Old Man."
Olivia looked over at him with a strange look on her face. "Hey, Nick. Thank you."
"For what?" he sounded confused.
"For not freaking out."
"Oh, trust me, I'm freaking out," he said, not without humor, "But in all seriousness, Liv, I've got your back. Even if it's Barba." He spat the lawyer's name as if the very word brought a sour taste to his tongue and she rolled her eyes before smiling at him gratefully. He returned the smile before it faded to worry. "It's just… we need you on this case Liv. All of you."
Olivia grimaced. "I know."
His voice became teasing, "I know how hard it must be," he winked while she groaned, "but try not to let him distract you too much."
"Noted, Nick," she snarked, "Noted."
Olivia felt unusually somber even considering the circumstances, as she stood before Jane Doe's body in the medical examiner's office. "What can you tell us, Melinda?" she asked.
Dr. Warner pulled one of her gloves off with a sigh, grabbing a clipboard from behind her. "Well, the victim's a Caucasian female, late 30s, early 40s, no tattoos or any other identifying marks other than a birthmark on her hip. Nothing popped up when we ran her prints and I was waiting to hear back about her dental records but if the husband can ID her, that won't be a problem."
"It'll be good to verify anyways," Amaro added, and Dr. Warner nodded.
She walked over to the table and used her gloved hand to pull the sheet forward, exposing Jane Doe's face. Even devoid of blood, it was brutal. "As you can see, the bastard beat the hell out of her. I'm listing the probable cause of death as intracerebral hemorrhage caused by head trauma—that's bleeding of the brain," she added seeing Amaro's confused face. "She basically was hit one too many times and had a massive stroke. I can't be entirely certain, but it's likely her fractured skull occurred post-mortem. From the extent of the damage, it's almost certain she suffered several if not numerous blows to the head which also shattered her nasal bone and fractured both orbital sockets." She paused shaking her head, "It was the definition of overkill, she had no chance of survival."
Benson nodded, clearly deep in thought before gesturing toward the victim's right hand. "And the pinky?"
"Well, the ligaments and skin surrounding the bone were obviously torn, and from the skin tissue, it's clear that the finger was ripped out of its socket while Jane Doe was alive. Possibly even conscious."
Fuck. "Are you sure?" Benson looked disturbed as she absentmindedly rubbed at her right pinky.
Dr. Warner's face was dark as she nodded. "Tearing live tissue always causes a vital response noticeably different from tearing dead tissue. I'm sure, detective."
"What about the other pinky?" Amaro questioned, "Any significance to the break?"
"Now that you mention it, if you look there's pattern imprinted in the skin," she pulled back the sheet so the detectives could see the lines grooved into the skin, "it's likely the perp gripped her pinky using some sort of ridged tool like pliers before snapping it."
Olivia's eyebrows shot up. "Well that's definitely new," she said. "Might help us narrow down that list Amanda made."
Her partner nodded before turning to Dr. Warner. "Any signs of sexual assault?" Amaro asked, hating that he already knew the answer.
Melinda nodded, "Yes, there was clear evidence of vaginal bruising and tearing all consistent with rape. I found traces of lubricant but no DNA, no fibers. We ran her tox screen and it came back positive for ketamine."
"Just like the others," Benson mused.
Melinda pulled the sheet back over Jane Doe and turned to the detectives. "It may interest you to know that while we found no DNA on our Jane Doe, we did find pollen and dirt in the victim's hair," she added, causing both detectives to perk up. "I've sent it up to the lab for processing, we should get the results either late today or early tomorrow. That should help you narrow down a location."
Just then, Amaro's phone started to ring, silencing them before either of the detectives could express their relief at the news.
"It's the husband," Amaro said before picking up.
"Let's head out," Benson said quietly while Melinda readied herself for the ID.
Amaro nodded, before letting Mr. Cutler know they would meet him out in the lobby.
Moments like these were easily the worst part of their job. They braced themselves as a short, balding man with a kind face that was currently twisted with dread and panic headed over to the two of them.
"Mr. Cutler, Detective Nick Amaro." Nick held out his hand to the man who shook it, impatiently.
"Can't honestly say it's nice to meet you," he said anxiously before turning to Benson. "And you are?"
"I'm Detective Olivia Benson." Olivia stuck her hand out as well and they shook hands quickly before the man faced her partner.
"How does this work?"
"Well, right now the Medical Examiner is getting prepared for the ID. In the meantime, would it be alright if we ask you a couple of questions?"
Mr. Cutler waved his hand like he was swatting at flies, "Whatever, I don't care. I just need to know if that's my wife who's—" he choked. "Who's dead."
Olivia nodded with a sympathetic expression, "I understand that this must be difficult, Mr. Cutler. When was the last time you heard from your wife?"
The man started wringing his hands anxiously, "I've been away at a business conference for the last couple of days, maybe if I had been here…" Cutler's face crumpled before he sucked in a breath and continued. "Susie, my wife, well, she can be forgetful, so I just thought she might have lost her phone when I didn't hear from her. But when her friend Anne called after she missed their brunch, she said she hadn't seen her since they went out for drinks two days ago. Susie would never miss brunch with Anne, never! I came back as fast as I could."
"Anne…?" Amaro asked.
"Annabel Thrush, Susie and her have been friends for years."
Olivia couldn't help feeling a little skeptical, "Forgive me for asking, but what lead you to believe your wife is dead?"
The man gave her a withering glare. "I know my wife, detective. Even if she lost her phone, she would've found some way to contact me or Anne by now." His face filled with worry again. "When I saw the news, I knew. She looks just like the other woman!" The detectives exchanged a look, the "What the hell?" evident in their expressions. Oblivious, Cutler continued. "She's too trusting, she always stays back when the girls go out for drinks, she's a people watcher. Says it inspires her. Oh, Susie..."
"Excuse me, what did you say about the news?" Amaro asked with apprehension.
"They had pictures? Of one the victims?" he said with confusion.
How the hell did they miss that? "Well, this is news to us, if you'll excuse me," Benson said, masking her annoyance.
"Oh, uh sure."
As Olivia stepped away to call the Captain about this little bit of news, Amaro led Mr. Cutler towards the covered window where Dr. Warner would be revealing Jane Doe. They stood in anxious silence until Melinda's voice crackled over the sound system as she pushed the curtains aside. "Brace yourself, there's significant damage to her face."
As she pulled back the sheet, Mr. Cutler's hand rose to cover his mouth, and his knees buckled while he clutched at Amaro's arm to stay upright. His voice was shaky as he tore his eyes from her beaten face. "I-I don't know. Susie has a birthmark," he said desperately. "It's on her hip, please tell me…"
Amaro leaned forward to press a button, speaking into the little mic, "Mr. Cutler says his wife has a birthmark on her hip. Could you…?"
Melinda lifted the sheet once more to reveal it to the man, who let out a sob, "Susie—No, no! That's my Susie! My Susie!"
Cutler dissolved into tears still clutching Amaro's arm as the detective watched the man's grief with his own pang of sorrow and pity. He felt an arm on his shoulder and turned his head to see Benson, her face also somber as she leaned in to quietly let him know that Emily was on the way to the precinct.
Amaro detached the man from his arm with patience and felt a twinge of guilt as Cutler swayed there, looking like he'd been punched in the gut. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. Cutler. I understand that this will be hard to go through, but we will catch the man who hurt your wife." Cutler's expression remained unchanged as he stared at them with unshed tears and a horribly numb expression. Amaro stepped forward, pulling out one of the cards he always kept on him. "I'm going to give you my card, we're hoping you would be open to answering some more questions at a later time."
"Is there anyone you want me to call for you?" Benson asked softly.
Mr. Cutler shook his head slowly, "I'm… I'm going to go."
"Do you have someone to drive you?" Amaro asked, "I'm not sure you should be driving right now."
The man considered his words, giving a little nod before he started to babble as he walked down the hall, "I can get a ride, come back for the rental later, I need to call Anne, and Louis needs to know, I'm sure, and then there are the bags…"
The two detectives watched the man's dreamlike movements with pity before Olivia spoke. "We gotta get back soon for the interview with Emily but I called the captain. He's furious. Apparently, the press caught wind of our third vic and leaked her photo. The hospital had to move her to a private room."
"Fucking vultures," Nick scowled.
Olivia nodded with a dark expression. "Well, as much as I hate it, it did help us ID our Jane Doe," she said grudgingly.
"And now we know at least two of our vics were at bars," Amaro added, "We'll have to talk to this Annabel Thrush, see if she knows more."
"Yes and hopefully Emily will have something to back this up. If so we may have just found our link."
Rafael was having the hardest time picking a place to get drinks with Olivia. He had no idea what she was expecting and he didn't want to be too close to either of their places of work for obvious reasons, which severely limited his options seeing as he didn't want to go somewhere he hadn't been before.
God, he was nervous. Last night he had gone home still reeling from their heated exchange, absolutely astonished that he'd actually had the balls to go through with asking her out in the first place. After he'd finished his meeting, he'd thought about the coffee cup situation and came to the surprising realization that he wanted more. He wanted to get to know her, to be the person she looked to. Olivia Benson, he'd found, had somehow managed to worm her way into his thoughts and feelings and he… didn't mind. For some reason.
He had planned on waiting a week or more before asking her out, maybe giving some hints of his feelings here and there, testing the waters if you will, but then she'd shown up in that outfit. All self-control had gone out the window the second he'd looked at her.
And then this morning happened.
He had never wanted someone more. Watching that interrogation had been torture; seeing her in her element, so confident and sure had been such a turn on. He still couldn't believe they'd done that. Making out on the roof like a couple of high schoolers? What were they thinking?!
Rafael was going to make up for that tonight. She deserved more than a heat-of-the-moment situation. At least, if that's what she wanted.
He grimaced at the thought. Fuckk. What if she regretted it already? Or didn't want something serious, like he did?
Rafael ran his hands down his face with a groan before jumping as someone cleared their throat.
"Oh! Carmen, sorry I, uh, didn't see you there," he said with a grimace.
"I did knock, Mr. Barba," she said in an apologetic tone, "I was going to ask if you wanted me to grab you something for lunch but I can see you're, uh, preoccupied," she said with a decidedly nosy tone of voice.
"I can see you're dying to ask, go ahead," he said with an eye roll.
"All of this," she said gesturing at him, "would have nothing to do with Detective Benson showing up unexpectedly yesterday would it?"
"'All of this?'" he repeated with one eyebrow raised, crossing his arms, "Whatever could you mean?"
Carmen gave him a look, "You're distracted Barba and literally groaning with, what, worry? And I know that's your favorite suit."
"You are far too observant for your own good," he said with a huff, still not confirming or denying anything.
"Detective Benson did leave looking pretty excited last night… And flustered," she added with a smirk, noting the way the Barba had gone unnaturally still.
"Did she?" he mused. "Fine, you caught me. I, uh, asked her out."
"I knew it!" Carmen squealed as Barba scowled at her, his cheeks a little pink.
"You better keep quiet about this Carmen," he warned, face still flushed, "I do not need the DA getting involved in something that might not even happen, okay?"
"Oh, something will happen, Barba," Carmen said knowingly.
"Mhmm, sure," Rafael said, a little skeptical.
"Where are taking her then? And when?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but we're getting drinks tonight. I still haven't picked a place yet, though," he added.
"Don't worry about that. We'll come up with something."
"Oh, we will, will we?" he said, looking a little irritated at her enthusiasm. She shot him a sharp look. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just… nervous."
"Don't be. Now, come on, tell me what you're thinking and we'll find a place."
Rafael felt overwhelming gratitude for his secretary as she grabbed a chair and swung it over, ready to help. With her help, tonight would go well. He could feel it in his gut.