Two.

Brooke woke up with a start. Sonny's side of the bed was empty and the curtains were drawn, making it seem much earlier than eight o'clock. She stretched, twisted, and took a few deep breaths before slinging her legs over the side of the mattress and ambling to the kitchen. Sonny was at the table drinking coffee and flipping through the New York Times on his iPad.

"Hey there," she half-whispered, "I didn't hear you get up."

"My sleep's all off," Sonny whined, "I was up at two, then four, then I figured I'd just go get Sof."

"That's why I didn't hear her." Brooke poured coffee and sat across from him. She missed having a print newspaper; there was something to be said for sharing the paper in the morning. Ed and Olivia, she knew, still had the Times delivered. Thinking like Sarah for a moment, she smiled to herself as she pictured the two of them huddled on the couch, probably under the same blanket pretending to battle for the same section.

Having nothing to with her hands, Brooke picked up Noah's wallet. He was never without it, and it no longer had the stiff, brand-new leather feel.

Sonny grinned when she opened it. "Goin' through a man's wallet?" He teased. "So wrong."

"It's so cute."

Inside were Noah's school identification card, MetroCard, expired credit card with the numbers filed down, and a wad of cash totaling thirty-three dollars.

"He sure carries around a lot of money. I wonder if my Dad knows."

"He said somethin' about needing money when he was goin' on a trip."

Brooke chuckled. "Brooklyn's a trip?"

"Apparently."

Seconds after Brooke mentioned how rare it was for Noah to sleep this late, he trotted into the room, eyes partially filled with sleep, and announced Sofia was awake. The baby would be fine for a few more seconds, so Brooke took a moment to give him a hug and asked if he slept well.

"Good sleep," Noah reported. "But…Sof! Sof wantsa get outta the crib!" His eyes darted around. Little did Brooke and Sonny know that he knew how to get babies out of cribs.

"I'll get a bottle," Sonny said.

Brooke headed for Sofia's room and motioned for Noah to follow. "Want to feed her?"

"Yep!"

While they waited for Sonny to deliver the formula, Brooke got Noah situated on the floor with the Boppy and the baby. Noah smoothed Sofia's thick mop of sandy brown hair and gave her a gentle hug.

"Dis baby still really snuggly!"

"She is. I love snuggling with her."

"Me too." Noah's face broke into a frown. "Maggs and Wyatt don't like ta snuggle anymore!"

"I bet they do," Brooke said, "But they like to run around, too. Now that they can walk they want to run around and explore."

Noah considered the point. "Yeah," he said slowly, "When small sister sleeps in my bed she always like dis!" Noah draped himself over Sofia's body without transferring any weight onto her.

Brooke laughed. "Yeah, small sister is not the best person to have in a bed with ya…that's for sure."

Sonny delivered the bottle and Noah expertly gave it to Sofia. He gently rocked back and forth and whispered, "Good baby. Dats some good stuff, huh, Sof?"

"After the bottle we'll give her some cereal."

Noah's eyes widened. "That's MESSY!" Sofia startled at the sudden change in volume. Noah put the bottle down and wiped the formula streaks from her chin. "Sorry, baby," he cooed in a much softer voice. He looked up at Brooke who couldn't stop smiling at the sweet scene. "Brookey?"

"Hmm?"

"How come Daddy calls Mommy baby and Mommy's not a baby?"

Had Brooke been eating or drinking, she would have coughed and choked. She couldn't wait to brag to her sister how Noah had innocently broached the subject of intimacy between his parents.

"Sometimes words have different meanings," Brooke said. "Like…when Mommy calls you sweet boy? It means she loves you. It doesn't mean you're actually sweet like something you eat. When someone loves another person a lot, then they might call that person baby."

"Daddy really loves Mommy," Noah murmured knowingly. When he spoke he kept his eyes trained on Sofia.

"He does. And your Mom really loves him. You're lucky to have parents who love each other and love you and your brother and sister so much."

"Yeah."

"And you know what?"

Noah met Brooke's eyes, albeit briefly. "What?"

"They're lucky to have you. You are an awesome son and brother…and, even though ya don't like it, uncle to Sofia." Brooke grinned and asked, "Why don't you like uncle?"

Noah crinkled his nose.

"Sounds like an old man."

…..

Dr. Lindstrom opened the door for Olivia, a patient he had not seen for at least a year. He vividly recalled their last appointment and how content and comfortable she had been with her life. She had a loving husband, beautiful children, and her job, though always stressful and potentially horrifying, had become secondary to her role as wife and mother. So, when Olivia called for an appointment, Lindstrom immediately scoured the internet for SVU-related crimes. Finding nothing, he rifled through possibilities. Family trouble seemed unlikely. Then again, a lot could have changed in a year. Also, she was on the brink of retirement. Perhaps the life change was causing some apprehension. That was his best guess, and he was wrong.

Carisi did not see the car careen through the intersection until it clipped the SUV's front end and sent the vehicle spinning across the avenue and into a parked delivery truck. Stunned, Carisi gripped the steering wheel and froze. He heard sounds, but they registered as if he were underwater. When he finally got his bearings, he whipped around and gasped a sigh of relief when he saw both Noah and Sofia staring back at him with wide eyes.

"You okay?" He asked breathlessly.

Noah fought against the seatbelt and grunted, "Yeah."

Sofia was moving her arms and legs and, overall, acting normally. Her car seat hadn't moved an inch.

"Thank God." Carisi picked up his phone from the center console and made the easiest of the calls he needed to make. He reported the accident then phoned Olivia and Brooke.

Olivia always talked with her hands, but as she grew more and more emotional, the patterns became more frantic. Unshed tears made her eyes glisten.

"The accident," she said, her voice trembling, "Looked worse than it was. And at first I was fine, I mean, I wanted to get to Noah, I left right away, and he wasn't shaken up at all. He told me they spun around and around…but since it happened, I'm having these, well, not quite panic attacks but…if I'm not with him, I'm terrified. I almost made up an excuse to pick him up today instead of letting Sarah do it."

Lindstrom opened his mouth to speak, but Olivia continued.

"And Carisi is tiptoeing around me. He feels terrible. Of course, it wasn't his fault, but, if I put two and two together, the moments I'm most terrified are when I see him…and he's my son-in-law!"

"It's completely normal to think of worst case scenarios," Lindstrom said. "Especially when there's nothing anyone, not even you, could've done to make the accident turn out differently." He sat on the edge of his chair, "Olivia, you are loved. You are successful as a mother, a wife, a police officer. And you want to protect everything you have. And you do. You and Ed do. But not even the two of you can stop every scary thing from happening."

Olivia's tears spilled over and she plucked tissues from a box on the side table.

"But the two of you are there to support each other through those dark times. Don't forget that. How is Ed handling this?"

"He's…" Olivia stood up and paced, "He's a man, you know? At first, when he heard Noah and car accident, the blood drained from his face…but two seconds later when he talked to Noah, he was absolutely fine."

"So you feel like you should be, too."

"I suppose."

"Olivia, there is nothing you can do to make sure the people you love are one-hundred percent safe all the time. You've got to understand that and put this past you. You can feel lucky and relieved Noah wasn't hurt, but it won't be good for him, or you, if you're constantly worrying about him when he's at school or with someone else."

Olivia bit her lip and managed a tiny smile and a lighthearted comment.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do when he's a teenager…"

…

Neither Maggie nor Wyatt had ever expressed much discontent about school, so when Wyatt dawdled the morning after Noah returned home from college, Olivia was mildly concerned. Assuming Wyatt merely wanted to spend as much time as possible with his brother, Olivia didn't let his reluctance to leave bother her much.

"Have a good day, sweetie," she told him softly. Maggie was already halfway out the door and bouncing impatiently from foot to foot. Olivia gripped Wyatt's wrist and quickly kissed the side of his head. "Love you, sweetheart."

At sixteen, Wyatt retained many of the features that made him so adorable as an infant and toddler. His brown hair, though cut short, still curled at the ends. He had grown taller and leaner, but his cheeks were still plump and they dimpled when he smiled, which was often. His bone structure was still unmistakably passed down via his mother, but his eyes were carbon copies of Ed's. Maggie's blue orbs had deepened in color; Wyatt's had not, and, on the rare instances when he was angry, his glare was identical to his father's. This amused Olivia. Ed pretended not to be proud.

Wyatt was also the most willing of her three children to accept affection from his mother.

He flashed her a half-smile. "Love you, too." He squeezed her hand and shot Maggie an exasperated look before hustling after her.

Noah, Olivia, and Ed spent the day together, and it was enough of a distraction to make her forget about Wyatt's mood. However, when he was still sullen later that afternoon, Olivia confronted him.

"Okay, honey," she sat on the couch next to him with her legs folded under her, "What's going on?"

Wyatt knew attempting to deflect the inquiry would be futile. "I found some articles…from a long time ago. It's, uh, it was about some of the things in your book." Without Olivia's knowledge, Wyatt had read her memoir as a middle schooler.

"What things?"

"The first one was, it was, um, about when you confessed to something in front of the whole city then went after the guy who kidnapped you and he'd taken a little girl."

Olivia winced. The first one. Meaning he had not stopped there.

"He was a vicious, evil man," Olivia said softly and somewhat ruefully because she knew that simple explanation would not suffice. She had tried the same thing with Noah years before. Noah had a deep sense of right and wrong, and he struggled to comprehend the minds of people like William Lewis. Wyatt, however, had been trying to wrap his head around a different aspect of the terror his mother had endured.

"Why did you do that?"

"Sweetie," Olivia wrapped him in a quick, tight hug, "The why of it all…it's so complicated."

Wyatt was adamant. "I want to know."

Olivia suggested they go for a walk. Wyatt usually spent a couple hours studying after school at a local café, but today he had come directly home, another indicator all was not well. "You haven't had your green tea thing today."

Wyatt grinned. "It's a matcha coconut smoothie," he clarified for what he felt like was the zillionth time.

"Right."

Olivia held out her hand and pulled him upright. On the way to the café Olivia told him the story from the beginning, sugarcoating very little. Wyatt listened intently. Olivia closely watched his reactions, but he merely seemed intensely focused rather than horrified or scared. They purchased the drinks and continued walking and talking. Wyatt screwed up his face when he learned Lewis had been allowed to represent himself, and he expressed some shock when Olivia told him how Lewis managed to escape custody. Nevertheless, when he asked questions, they were about Olivia, not her captor.

"You could've died," Wyatt murmured at one point.

"I could have…"

"Me and Maggie and Noah…Dad…wouldn't even be…us."

"No…but that didn't happen honey," Olivia said. "But I know now, after a long, long process of healing, that I went after Lewis because I felt like I had nothing to lose. The little girl he took had her whole life in front of her and I was willing to give mine to save her…I was…I was in a dark, dark place and it was only after that I realized it."

"Do you still think about it?"

"Sometimes.

"Do you still…still go to a dark place?"

"I haven't for a very long time. But it'll always be a possibility. But, the thing is though, now I have your Dad. I have you and Maggie and everyone else. I have people who make me so happy…I have something, a lot of things to live for. I may not be able to completely forget, but it doesn't haunt me. I don't have that desperation hanging over me. Not anymore."

They cut through a playground and sat on a bench.

"Wyatt, honey, do you know, have you…those dark places, do you know what that's like?"

"No."

Olivia could tell he was being truthful. His "no" sounded regretful, as if he were desperate to understand how his mother felt.

"I hope you never, ever have to know."

Wyatt looked at her compassionately. "I wish that had never happened to you."

"I survived. And," Olivia held out her hands, palms raised, "Look what happened! I ended up getting Noah, your Dad, having you and Maggie…you never know what's going to happen…"

"Thank you for telling me," Wyatt said sincerely.

"You're welcome."

"Don't worry about me, okay?"

Olivia gave him a stern yet playful glare. Wyatt grinned.

"Okay, okay…that was dumb."

Olivia slung an arm around his shoulders. "I'm always going to worry about my babies."

Wyatt nodded.

"I know."

…

As the tavern door closed behind her, Olivia stomped to remove the salt and slush from her boots. She saw Ed beaming at her and smiled back. Not only was she happy to see him, but the dim light of the bar soothed her frayed nerves. A drink would also be of immense help.

Ed stood, almost giddy to get her into his arms. He hugged her tightly and kissed her as passionately as he knew she was comfortable with in public. After helping her off with her coat, they perched inches apart on the stools, and Olivia took a sip of the drink Ed had waiting.

"Sorry I'm a little late," she said.

"No problem." Ed knew she had made an appointment with the therapist. As usual, he waited for her to offer details. In the space between, he updated her on the kids. Noah and Sarah at a late lunch at Max Brenner, so he would probably not need dinner. He had done some organizing around the house while the twins were at day care. In the foyer rested two large trash bags—one for Brooke and Sonny to sort through and the other destined for charity.

Finally, Olivia nudged him, "How do you do protective Dad while being so normal?" She asked.

Ed swiveled and faced her. "My protective Dad normal and your protective Mom normal are two different things."

Olivia considered this. "I wish I had more of your traits."

Ed kissed her cheek. "You are who you are." Saying it wasn't necessary, but she was the mother she was because, Ed believed, she would forever consider herself immensely lucky to have children. Motherhood accidentally presented itself to Olivia, and, though she desired it, she had all but written off the possibility when Noah came along. Any tragedy would be devastating, but one involving Noah would be doubly so.

"I guess I'm…I guess the booster seat works?" Olivia tried light-heartedness. In their SUV, Noah still rode in a car seat which he was beginning to protest. In other cars he sat in a secured booster with a seat belt. Weight and height-wise, he qualified for the change, but Olivia preferred the full harness.

"Sure does," Ed replied, copying her tone, "Police report said they spun a couple times. But not a scratch on any of 'em."

"Maybe by the time he drives the whole car will convert to an impenetrable bubble when it's hit."

Ed grinned and kissed her again. "Let's plan on that." He tucked a few loose strands behind her ear, kissed her again, and said, "I'm glad you went to Lindstrom."

"I don't want you to think—"

"—I think I want you happy and safe," he interrupted. "That's all. I'm not a professional. I get it I—"

Olivia interrupted this time, "—not a professional therapist," she quipped, grabbing his hand and looking him in the eyes. "Do you know, every time I've seen him since we've been together, you've told me the exact same things?"

Assuming the question was rhetorical, Ed remained silent.

"I know Noah is as safe as possible. It's just…I think I got so complacent I tricked myself into thinking we were immune to everything that could possibly go wrong."

"We're not," he said, grabbing her hands, "But we're as prepared as possible."

"I know."

He kissed her lips softly and sensually. When the kiss was over he backed away only an inch or two.

The look on his face reminded her of one she had seen years earlier.

…..

"Good luck to you, Sergeant Benson."

Olivia and Rita breezed out of the Internal Affairs interview room leaving Tucker and Draper slightly bewildered and dumbfounded. The two investigators had agreed beforehand to offer the Sergeant the easiest way out. They both hated the overzealous Brooklyn ADA Strauss, but they really hated getting into a pissing match over someone like Lewis.

Draper shrugged and started collecting the files and the camera. "Drink?" He asked in his usual workaday, matter-of-fact manner. His partner had seemed uncharacteristically bothered by the entire Lewis saga. When the news broke that Lewis had been shot and Benson was en route to the hospital, Tucker dropped everything and departed, presumably to get a handle on the situation; nevertheless, Cole and everyone else rolled their eyes at his haste. There had been no reason for Tucker to leave that early, and there was no way Benson's PBA rep would let her talk.

They cozied up to the bar at a familiar watering hole and ordered drinks. Tucker, feeling the heat of his partner's scrutiny, muttered, "She's tellin' the truth, Cole."

"I know."

"Do you really?"

Draper raised his eyebrows. "If she's not, it's a pretty bad lie. And Rita would not have let her say what she said."

Tucker grunted.

"Seen Rita lately?"

"No."

Cole smirked and chuckled, "Lighten up, man. She have some dirt on you or something?"

"Maybe I'm a bad date?" Tucker shrugged. "I dunno…" Tucker didn't engage in these types of conversations. He and Rita never clicked. To him, she never stopped being a lawyer. To her, he probably never stopped being an IAB investigator because he had trouble letting his guard down. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure," Cole replied, "Why's this bothering you so much?"

Tucker stared into the drink and then at the television screens overhead. "She's been through hell—and Lewis may win—and he's dead. Where's the justice there? And why in the hell does Strauss care? And what was she thinking?"

Cole let Ed ramble for several minutes. Ed drank quickly and brooded. They left together, but Draper was driving to the suburbs and Ed had a blocks-long walk back home. Cole understood his partner's sympathy but was still thrown for a loop. Usually, Ed Tucker refused to entertain extenuating circumstances or alternative scenarios. With Benson, not only was he trying to assist in her defense, he apparently couldn't stop thinking about it.

"You wanna ride?" Cole asked.

"Nah," Ed said with a wave, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright." Cole shrugged. He knew Ed had had too many, but he was close to home and he wasn't staggering drunk. He watched his partner until Ed turned onto Ninth Avenue and went on his way.

Tucker ambled along, trying not to sway. He longed for the days when bars allowed smoking. He wanted to lose himself in a dive, cigarettes, and an endless and unquestioned litany of bourbon. He could not chase Olivia Benson from his mind.

He was mad at her: How could you do something so stupid? So obviously suicidal?

He was mad at Cassidy: How do you let something like this to happen to the woman you love?

He was mad at Rita: How can you think we are not all on the same page here?

He was mad at himself. Was I too brash? She probably assumed I was gonna take her badge. She doesn't trust me.

Ed took out his phone and clumsily poked at the screen. Somewhere among his contacts and emails was Olivia's number. Calling her was inappropriate and maybe unethical, but he didn't care and nobody else needed to know.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me, uh, Tucker."

Silence.

"I, uh, I wanted you to know, I, uh…I believe you."

He expected a nasty reply, but she only mumbled a thank you.

"You, uh, you prolly—" he was suddenly aware that he probably sounded drunk and certainly she would notice. "Never mind, I, uh, wanted to let you know that. That I believe you."

"Thank you."

"We have your back."

Silence again.

"I'll, uh, I'll let you get back to your evening."

There were a few moments of hesitation.

"Okay," Olivia finally said.

"Good night, Sergeant."

"Night."

During the walk to his place, Ed tried as best he could to bury the image of Olivia sitting alone in her apartment. He knew she was alone. He could tell by her voice, by the mere fact that she picked up the phone and by the way she spoke—she didn't sound uncomfortable or try to muffle her voice. She just sounded…

Alone.

Maybe he should have waited to end the call, tried to extend the labored conversation.

But he didn't.

He stumbled inside, ignored the growing pile of mail, collapsed on the couch, and consoled himself.

There was no way that Lewis psycho could win.

It wasn't right. None of it was right.

But there was nothing he could do.

…..

Ed flipped through cable channels and then their Netflix queue, searching for some type of comedy or old rerun to watch. He heard Olivia close the dishwasher door and turn the machine on. She joined him seconds later.

"Whatcha wanna watch?" He asked, still scrolling. They hadn't set up separate viewers, so most of their favorites and recommendations were kids' movies.

Olivia took the remote control from him and placed it on the coffee table. "I'm not really in the mood for a movie," she whispered.

"No?"

Straddling him now, she started kissing his neck. "No."

He tilted his head back as far as possible, closed his eyes, and relished the feel of her hair blanketing his face. When her lips met his, he slid his hands under her shirt, rubbed her back, and unclasped her bra. Olivia moaned when he massaged her breasts. She deepened the kiss and they fell across the cushions wrapped in each other's arms. Ed rocked his hips into her; she gasped her approval and let one hand drift to his waistband.

Aside from their cries and hushed foreplay talk, the only sounds came from the kitchen—the faint whirring of the dishwasher and the occasional rattle of the icemaker.

Noah's footsteps went undetected.

He peeked over the back of the sofa.

"Mommy? Daddy? Whatcha doin?"

…

#Tuckson