Disclaimer: DW owns everything, including the quote from The Undiscovered Country. Prayers come from the Catholic committal ceremony. I figured Ed would have probably been buried in the church even though he most likely wasn't a regular church-goer.

Chapter Five: Goodbye, My Friend

"We never truly get over a loss, but we can move forward and evolve from it."— Elizabeth Berrien

There are few things harder in life to handle than death. Whether it is expected or not, death in an interruption, a tear in the fabric of things. And, while rips and tears can sometimes be repaired, often you will still see the jagged line where the fabric has been torn. The edges may be together again, but the cloth isn't quite the same.

Nothing will be or can ever be the same.

Death changes everything. Where there was a unique spot in the universe that was filled with the presence of a loved one, now that unique spot is empty. Nothing will ever or can ever fill that space. That void will always be there, taking its place amidst the multiple holes and cracks in the universe.

"Liv?" A familiar voice interrupted Olivia's heavy thoughts. She was preparing dinner…or trying to...yet she could not shake the heavy weight of the day. Her heart was full of tears that she hadn't been able to shed. Every so often the tears would well up like a fountain in her throat and she'd have to cough to keep her composure. Even the simple task of making dinner was just too hard.

Saluting Ed's casket.

Escorting his body to his final resting place.

Trying not to wince as the dispatcher called out Ed's name and badge number on the end of watch call. Only to have no response. Just silence.

Watching the clods of earth thrown on the gleaming hand carved wood, interspersed with white flowers. She had winced as each one hit the casket, as if they were all individual physical punches. Each one hitting her in her chest, her heart, her soul.

"By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return".

Into your hands, Father of mercies,
we commend our brother, Edward Patrick Tucker
in the sure and certain hope,
that, together with all who have died in Christ,
he will rise with him on the last day."

She had known that Ed hadn't been a regular church-goer. He had occasionally gone for family services and special occasions but he had turned his back on the ritual and pomp years ago. But Olivia still wondered if he had still believed. Whether he was confident that he'd be going to a better place and if that made his fading away less terrifying. If he had believed, she almost wish she could. If only to grasp some measure of assurance that she would see him again. Happy and healthy. Not fading away.

Because the thought that he was permanently gone was devastating. And she wasn't sure if she could handle that.

Not now. Maybe not ever.

"Earth to Olivia Benson," Barba's voice broke into her thoughts once again. My god, why couldn't she focus. "You still with us, Captain?" His face was drawn with concern.

"I'm sorry, Rafael," she said apologetically, rubbing her face with her hand. "It's been a long day." And she was tired. So very, very tired. After the services had completed, she had come home and spent some time just soaking up Noah's presence, playing games and reading his favorite book with him, until he had gone over to a friend's house. She had managed to nap, but it was an uneasy sleep, haunted by ghosts and memories of time that had run away with her. Never enough time…

He gently put his hand on her shoulder.

"Let me help, Olivia." And she knew that he wasn't just asking about helping her with dinner.

She almost said no, she didn't want to seem weak, but, my god, she was exhausted. Even stirring the salt into the hot water seemed to be just too much. Maybe, she thought, maybe it was okay for someone else to be strong for her for awhile. Maybe it was okay for her to lean on someone else. Time to lay down her arms and rest.

"Okay," Liv smiled wearily, "have at it, Counselor. Although," she hesitated a moment, "can you even cook?" The thought of the dapper, always put together ADA sweating over a hot kitchen stove, struggling with pasta, made her smile a little. Those moments of domesticity… she didn't often see them with Rafael. He was very good at not letting too many people in.

Barba rolled his eyes. "It's spaghetti, Liv, not boeuf bourgignon. I think I can handle it. Without burning, even!" He twinkled at her. "Pasta is my specialty. Oh, and pizza – I'm good at that too."

Liv managed a tiny smile. "Is there anything you're not good at it?"

He pretended to think, a small smirk crossing his face. "Not that I can recall."

"Well, Mr I-am-so-good-at-everything, at least let me help you by getting the drinks." She moved to the cabinet and pulled out some scotch, an older bottle that she hadn't had the chance to open yet. She had been waiting for the right opportunity.

Never did she think that the "right" opportunity was after burying her former lover. Her friend.

"Why, Liv," Barba teased, "I never took you for a scotch drinker."

"I wasn't," she smiled faintly, "not until you and Ed." Admitting this felt like a dagger to the heart.

….I think you should try the bourbon…

"Between the both of you, I've turned into a whiskey/bourbon fiend." The smile on her face did not touch her eyes. "Still love my red wine, though."

Oh, god, Ed, I miss you.

"This is Macallan too," Barba observed. "My favorite."

"You've been rubbing off on me, counselor."

"Only in good ways, I hope."

"In the best of ways." She responded fondly. "Barba," she said, her voice soft from tears and weariness, "it means a lot that you're here. I know I've said that a lot but I'm so grateful." And it was the truth. This had been one of the hardest of days and he has steadied her. Grounded her.

The way only true friends could do.

Stirring the spaghetti, Barba smiled, "What are friends for?"

Being there for her wasn't a chore for him. It never has been. Ever since Rafael met Olivia that first day before the Jocelyn Paley trial, he had been intrigued by her. And inspired by her dedication, her passion for justice. She had taught him so much, shown him so much. And he'd become a better person because of her. To her…he owed everything.

The world was an old movie. It was all black and white and it was high noon. I was Gary Cooper. I was absolutely sure who were the good guys, who were the bad guys. And then you... you started to weasel your way into my world, and the black and white became different shades of gray. Don't say it. Before I knew it, there were blues and greens and yellows and reds. I'm you now, Liv.

You opened my heart, and I thank you for it.

God knew that he hadn't been Tucker's friend. After the whole fiasco with the Catholic Church sex ring, it had taken a long time for both him and Liv to repair the damage done to their friendship. He had been hurt she hadn't disclosed sooner, she had trouble forgiving him for going to 1PP. For months afterward, they had treated each other like strangers.

It had been hell.

But eventually they had managed to get back to where they used to be and they had both made promises to one another never to let it get that bad again. And now, to see her in such pain was more than he could bear.

He had seen it on that Skype call, the pain writ large on her face. And the effort it was taking for her to keep it together, for herself, for Noah, and for her squad. She had lost so much and so quickly. How much loss could someone take before they broke? She was strong but even strong people have their limits.

Whether she'd admit it or not, Olivia Benson needed him. And he would be there for her as she had always been there for him.

A sudden sound interrupted him adding salt to the hot water. He turned around to see Liv sitting on the couch, shoulders shaking, head in her hands. Finally, he thought, finally the dam had broken. So he turned off the stove. Food could wait. This could not.

"It's okay, Liv," he said softly, weaving his fingers with hers. "It's okay to cry."

"Time flies by so quickly," she choked out, her voice clouded over with tears. "There's never enough time." Her hands gripped the cloth of her pants, almost shredding the fabric. Never enough time…

Rafael moved closer and wrapped his arm around her, lightly pushing her head onto his shoulder. She didn't resist, simply leaned into him, and he felt her tears start soaking his shirt. Felt her shaking against him.

God, what she must have gone through in the last few weeks. To learn that her ex-lover had cancer that was killing him slowly, only to have him end his life by his own hand. How do you even begin to process that amount of pain? Because it was obvious to anyone with eyes that Olivia had never stopped caring about Ed.

So Barba simply sat with her and let her cry.

She cried for the time she and Ed could have had.

Cried for the time they should have had.

Cried over all the losses that had been piling up on her soul over these past few years.

"Let it out, Liv." He said soothingly, rubbing her back. Her tears kept soaking his shirt but he didn't mind. He rested his head on hers, cradling her close.

It's going to be okay.

"Let it out, Olivia." He repeated, whispering into her hair, murmuring soothing phrases in Spanish, rocking her close. "Estoy aquί. Está bien."

"I loved him, Rafael." She whispered. "After these years, I still loved him? Why did I let him go?"

Barba realized that she wasn't really looking for a concrete answer but he was going to help her anyway.

"Don't feel guilty for making that decision, Liv." He stroked her hair, willing her to understand that it wasn't her fault. "Sometimes life takes us all in different directions. You moved on, so did he. That doesn't make either of you bad people. So you shouldn't feel guilty for that. You both made choices that were right for you at the time."

"He was sick when we were together and I didn't know." Her voice trailed off. "Maybe if I had known…there was something I could have done…I would have stayed…I could have helped."

Maybe I could have saved him.

"How could you have known?" He looked straight into her eyes. "You're not a mind-reader. There was absolutely no way you could have known about this." Barba tilted her chin up so that her gaze met his. "This is not on you. And, Liv," he reminded her, "Tucker wouldn't have wanted you to stay with him out of pity. You know that. He would have wanted you to continue your life as if nothing had changed. You know how he was."

Yes, she did. She knew all of this with her head. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she could have done more. Should have done more. Leaning into Rafael's body, she soaked up his warmth, his security, his reassurances.

"I've told you this before," Barba continued, speaking over her head, his soft breath brushing her hair, "but you can't save everyone. You know that, my friend, more than anyone."

Please trust me on this.

He handed her a tumbler of scotch, the amber-gold gleaming by the light of the candles she had lit. Liv stared into the glass, as if looking for answers far out of her reach.

"Here. Drink. It'll help."

"How do you know?" Liv asked, her finger running over the edge of the glass.

It's going to be okay, Liv.

"Scotch solves all problems." He quipped with a slight smirk, lightly touching her face. Willing her to smile and believe him.

"Ha," she leaned back in the shelter of his shoulder. "Of course you'd say that."

"Have I ever steered you wrong?" He winked.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" She smiled faintly.

He frowned mockingly at her, his eyes lightly dancing. "Olivia Benson, I am hurt."

"You'll get over it." She teased back, starting to regain her equilibrium. Beginning to pull herself back together.

"Ay, Liv." He put his hand melodramatically over his heart, as if struck to the core."

"Go finish dinner, you joker." She swatted his shoulder playfully.

"Ouch." He rubbed his shoulder in jest. "You have a strong swat, Olivia Benson. You could break a fellow's arm." Leaning forward, he kissed her on the forehead. "You will get through this, Olivia. I know you will. You are strong. And I will always be here for you. At your side."

I love you. My friend. My comrade.

She gripped his hand. "Stronger with two, Rafael. Stronger with two."

Always.