Disclaimer: DW owns everything.

Note: I know this is a little bit of a weird chapter but the characters insisted on doing their own thing. Mrs. Tucker decided she needed to make an appearance.

Chapter Two: Last Wish

Tell your friend that in his death, a part of you dies and goes with him.

Wherever he goes, you also go. He will not be alone. – Jiddu Krishamurti

Olivia Benson hated her dress blues. She had very few occasions where she had to wear them, and most of those occasions had not left happy memories. As she looked at herself in the mirror her mind flew back to a few years ago, when both she and Ed had stood together in dress blues to bury Mike Dodds. Ever since that day, Olivia couldn't stand the sight of them.

Still can't.

It seems like death hovers around this uniform like a ghost that refuses to be exorcised. And she could feel its tentacles reaching for her neck, as she always did when she put them on. Shivering, she tried to shake herself out of her gloomy thoughts and focus on something lighter instead. Something that would give her the strength to face the day ahead.

Like Rafael Barba.

She had been so grateful to see him. When he stepped into the room, it was like nothing had changed. Of course there were some superficial changes, of course – like his beard and the increasing amount of grey near his temples. But he also looked softer, happier. Content.

The way she felt with Noah, she could see that in his eyes. And in his whole demeanor.

They had spent hours talking that first night when he had surprised her in her own squad room. A couple days later, she had insisted on making him dinner and they had split a bottle of his favorite scotch.

Sit. Drink. Smile. He had told her, with a wry smile on his face. And it had been like the old days, like he had never left.

They had spent some time talking about Noah, about his life in Iowa. And about the surprise visit Patty Tucker had paid to the precinct the day after Rafael had flown to New York.

….

"Captain Benson?"

Olivia raised her head to see a petite redhead standing in her doorway. She was professional enough to not let her jaw drop to the floor in surprise but was left without words for a few moments. What on earth was Patty Tucker doing here?

"Mrs. Tucker." She said cordially, when she finally found her voice again. "I am so sorry for your loss." The words sliced through her throat like a thousand piercing knives. This was all so devastatingly real now. Ed was not coming back and now his wife – god, Ed's wife - was standing in her door.

What a surreal dream.

"Do you have a few minutes?" Patty Tucker asked quietly, clearly still badly shaken. She was composed and calm but the redness around her eyes told another story. She was obviously still desperately trying to keep it together.

"I do." Olivia gestured for her to come in. "How can I help you?"

Patty stepped into her office, a little awkwardly, looking unsure as to how to begin the conversation.

"Ed and I were colleagues." Olivia tried to dispel the awkward silence with some small talk. Not something she was very good at but, in the past several years, she had gotten good at filling the silence.

"Yes, I know." Patty said quietly, an inscrutable look on her face. "You meant a good deal to him." She said quietly. And significantly. As if she really knew how important Olivia had been.

Well, shit, Olivia realized that the second Mrs. Tucker knew a little more than she had anticipated.

"He told me about you," Patty continued softly, "Not much but Eddie was never much of a talker."

That's for damn sure. Wouldn't use five words when three would do.

Olivia wasn't sure how to respond to this – wasn't certain of what the woman was looking for. So she simply kept her silence. Internally praying for this awkward situation to end – for the silence to be filled. And not filled with the ghosts of the past.

Patty shuffled her feet a little and reached within her purse.

"I found this when I was putting away his things." And she handed Olivia a picture.

A picture of the two of them from Paris, arms wrapped around one another in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Well, shit, again. How much more awkward can this get?

How does Olivia even begin to explain that picture to Patty? What should she say? "Hi, yes, I'm your husband's ex?" How does this even work?

Might as well just tell the truth. Kind of.

"Yes, we dated." Olivia hated the word dated. It seemed so inadequate to describe what she had shared with Tucker. But how else could she explain it without hurting Ed's widow? There was no way Olivia was going to do that to Patty. So she minimized it as best she could. And it killed her to do it. "But," she reassured Patty, "it was over a long, long time before he met you."

Patty pursed her lips, deep in thought.

"Can I call you Olivia?" She asked.

"Of course."

"Olivia, Eddie and I didn't know one another very long. It was a bit of a whirlwind courtship after we first met at a NYPD fundraiser. But he and I were very happy and he was a wonderful stepfather to my boys."

Why are you telling me this?

"I know he loved me," Patty said calmly, "but I also know that there were parts of his life that he didn't share with me."

Oh god, I hope this isn't going where I think this is going…

"I could tell that he loved you." Patty continued. "And Eddie, I found, didn't love too many people. It was a rare thing, to be loved by Ed Tucker." She smiled sadly at Olivia.

Olivia found that she couldn't hate Patty. Not even the faintest bit.

They had at least one thing in common, after all.

"We fell out of touch over the years," Olivia admitted slowly, "we both moved on with our lives. He wanted to retire, and I didn't. We were just at two different stages of our life. I'm glad he found himself someone who made him so happy." And she really meant it.

"Thank you," Patty replied. "Look, Olivia, I know this must seem strange that I'm reaching out to you." She fidgeted with her hands, as if reluctant to continue. "But Eddie, he… well, he specifically wanted you to be part of his honor guard."

You have got to be kidding me.

"I would be grateful if you were there." She said.

…..

"…..so there I was," Olivia finished telling Barba, "completely stunned. Isn't it a little odd to have your husband's ex-girlfriend at his funeral?"

"It makes sense to me," Barba said thoughtfully, "She could tell you were someone important to Tucker and she wanted to honor his last wishes as best she could."

"Don't you think it'd be a little awkward?"

"Liv," Barba said firmly, "before you and Tucker…" He still couldn't call him Ed. "….were involved, you were colleagues, and you were friends. And it makes sense that he'd want the people who were important to him to be there. To be part of saying goodbye."

But I don't want to do this. I can't do this. Damn you, Ed Tucker. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. You weren't supposed to go before me. Of all the people in the world, you deserved to life a long life and be happy. How can you expect me to stand watch over your casket? To stand there and mourn you in public. In front of your wife and kids.

Barba refilled Olivia's scotch glass. "Look, Liv, I didn't like Tucker. But he trusted you then. With his life. And he's trusting you now. To do this one last thing for him." Because he loved you. Rafael left those words unspoken. He added gently, "And you know you'll regret it if you don't."

Damn you, Rafael Barba. I hate it when you're right.

He reached for Olivia's hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, pulling her into the comfort of his warmth. This is what I've missed, she thought, I've missed my friend.

"This is so unfair," she whispered, through tears, staring into the golden amber of the 15 year old scotch.

"I know," Rafael squeezed her hand. "God, I know. But I'll be there. Right there. In your corner."

You don't have to do this alone.