11

It was 6:15 p.m. as Olivia sat at a standstill in rush hour traffic, her mind spinning with the details of what her wife had just divulged to her. She sat, left hand over her mouth, elbow resting on the car door elbow rest, freshly showered and wearing a cream silk blouse and olive green jeans, brown boots on, staring ahead at the car in front of her, thinking.

He had hit her. Not just once, but twice. Once to the back of the head and once in the face when he saw she was putting up a fight. Starved of food and water. Treated like a dog. Worse than a dog. Threats of just allowing her to die. Alex's mind going to the worse possible scenario—death.

Traffic began crawling now, Olivia finally moving, the precinct only a couple of blocks away.

The humiliation of urinating on herself—helpless, but strong. Her wife was so strong to have endured that degradation. So strong to go through the repeated stories of how she would be left to die. So strong to try and fight for her life when she had the chance. And Olivia admired her even more for that.

But, her wife being in pain. That was the part of all of this that hurt the brunette the most.

Olivia was already extremely familiar with her wife's back and neck troubles, had witnessed Alex stressed and in pain more than once, and knew that it could be debilitating for her, and had been on numerous occasions. But in those instances, she had the luxury of going to her chiropractor or getting a massage or moving around and taking an Advil or two.

But not for the time she was there.

She felt her hands begin to shake with rage then, sweat begin to dot her upper lip, her face growing hotter as she felt her eyes fill with tears and she pulled into the parking lot and put her car in park. She removed her sunglasses and then lifted her chin to look at herself in the rearview, wiping beneath her eyes, not realizing there was so much emotion that had spilled from her just thinking of Alex's ordeal.

She wanted to go in there without emotion—confident, yet calm—and get at least one of them to confess. But, at the same time, she wanted to get at one of them. Hurt them in some way. Make them suffer in some manner, as well.

They had taken her wife. They had made her suffer emotionally and physically.

And she just couldn't fight the desire to rip their throats out.

She took a deep breath then and closed her eyes, letting it out slowly, and then took another one, trying to calm her heart rate that had suddenly begun to flutter with impending adrenaline.

She had to remain professional on this and couldn't risk anything going wrong. She needed to control her personal emotions and do what she needed to do and get a confession from one of them. Although the evidence was there, the photos taken just as the EMTs had gone in—along with the very telling photos and evidence from the crime scene, for this to go smoothly, her professionalism needed to remain intact.

She steeled herself, clenching her jaw, and opened her car door. With her badge and gun already on, keys in her hand, she walked with intentional confidence toward the doors of the 1-6.


"Arraignment is tomorrow morning. They got a public defender." Fin's voice came into her space as soon as she entered her office.

Olivia opened her desk drawer and threw her car keys inside and shut it firmly. "And they're still pleading not guilty?"

"Yeah, Liv. Armando and Pedro are now saying it was all Raul's fault, that he made them do it, and Raul's saying he didn't do anything wrong. That it was all just a prank and he was going to eventually let her go."

Olivia laughed lightly, her eyes narrowing. "A prank?" She shook her head. "Jesus. That's rich." She adjusted her badge and gun once more and then moved to go around Fin, but felt his hand lightly take hold of her elbow.

"Liv…"

Olivia looked down at his hold and he let go and backed off. She looked him in the eyes. "I know what you're gonna say."

"Good. Then you know I don't have to tell you to keep calm or else all of this could blow up in our faces and their attorney will get them off on kidnapping, at best."

A police officer came up to them then, holding a yellow envelope. "These just came. Crime scene photos." He handed it to Olivia.

She looked up at Fin and then took a deep breath.

"Want me to look at them fir—?"

"No…" she interrupted.

Olivia carefully unclasped the envelope and lifted the flap, reached her thumb and fingers inside and pulled out the 8X10" stack of photos—all in color, all with number plates marking the pieces of evidence, all crystal clear in detail.

The first one took her by surprise and she lightly gasped. It was of Alex, the moment they had come in and had cuffed Raul and Pedro, when she was still on the bed—a shot taken to prove that she had been there, that this was a crime against her, that nothing was being fabricated.

She looked like she was ten years old, so helpless, so desperate, so frightened. And Olivia felt the extreme rage begin a slow simmer in the bottom of her stomach, just beginning to rise.

She began leafing through them, placing one behind the other as she studied them—each one only briefly. The soaked bed, the magnified cut rope restraints that were coated with dark brown blood, the indentation in the cot where her wife had been starved of food and water, the kitchen with numerous liquor and beer bottles all around, ashtrays full of butts, the dark dankness of it all.

She felt that low simmer begin to bubble now as her eyes filled with tears. But she couldn't do this right now. Couldn't get emotional. She had a job to do and, although the evidence was as clear as day, she wanted, needed to get a confession out of one or all of them.

"You OK?" Fin questioned after the photo flipping came to an end.

"In some ways, Fin." Olivia smiled.

Fin nodded. "I gotcha, Liv." He raised his eyebrows. "You ready?"

"Absolutely. Let's do this. I'll take Pedro first."

"You sure?" Fin asked.

"Without a doubt, Fin."


Olivia moved to open the door to interrogation room three and turned the knob, Carisi and Pedro's eyes going straight to her as she entered.

"You're in for it now, Pedro," Carisi informed him before he looked at Olivia. "He's all yours, Detective."

Olivia let her eyes remain on Pedro as Carisi left the room and closed the door behind him. She slowly walked around the back of Pedro, noting the thick bulge of fat below the hairline of his closely-cropped head, the plethora of sweat beading his skin, the darkness of the moisture-soaked clothing he was wearing. And if she didn't know any better, she wouldn't doubt if he had peed his pants, as well.

"He groped me…had his hand on my breast and he pressed himself into me…"

Alex's voice echoed in her head then and she felt that low boil begin to bubble as she moved around to his right side and just looked at him, nodding.

His expression was priceless—fear, disbelief, and guilt, all rolled into one wet, slimy, dripping face. And he was actually shaking.

She placed her hands on the table then, still on his right, and leaned in close. "That was my wife," she sneered.

"Aw, shit," he uttered, closing his eyes tightly before opening them and looking back at her.

"Aw shit?" Olivia narrowed her eyes. "Is that all you have to say? Aw, shit?"

Pedro swallowed hard. "It was all Raul. I swear. He's the one who set this whole thing up. I-I-didn't…"

Olivia moved in closer. "You didn't have your hand on her breast? You weren't on top of her with your erection—at least what there was of it—pressed to her, threatening her? You didn't keep taunting her by saying you were gonna 'do that bitch'?" She felt her hands begin to quaver on the table then and she swallowed, reminding herself that she needed to remain calm.

"That was just—I—she was so beautiful…then…she wanted it, lady. She was tempting me and I got condoms and…and…she said she was ready. She said she wanted it."

"Are you fucking dense, Pedro?" she bellowed, moving in closer, her face only a couple of inches away from his. "She was ready? What the hell part of you thought she was ready after being chained to that bed, no food, no water, weak…sitting in her own urine…and she was ready?" Olivia backed away then and folded her arms. "You really are a village idiot aren't you?"

"I—I swear…I—"

Olivia moved quickly and got in his face again. "You were going to rape her. Raul told you not to and you were going to anyway. That was your plan the whole time. Wasn't it, Pedro?"

He studied Olivia, his eyes morose. "Yes. That was my plan." Pedro's face contorted then and he began sobbing. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"A boatload, Pedro. And the beauty is…along with accomplice in an abduction…we can add sexual assault to your rap sheet."

Pedro hung his head then, letting his fear out as he shook and wailed like a baby.

Olivia stepped away, watching him closely as she moved to the door. "Arraignment is tomorrow morning. And I will watch you and your homies fry for this. Just so you know." She placed her hand on the knob and turned, opening it and eyeing him again, looking down and noticing a puddle of pale yellow on the floor next to his foot.

And she smiled to herself.

One down. Two to go.


Alex took a deep breath and moved to the front door of the townhouse, seeing a blur of white and yellow on the left and tan and white on the right. She felt her lower lip begin to vibrate then and her nose begin to run as she unlocked the top lock and then closed her eyes and placed her hand on the door handle. She depressed the thumb lever and then pulled it toward her, her eyes going to her mother and then her father.

Cathy Cabot let go of the handle of her small, rolling suitcase and came in closer to her daughter, crossing the threshold, and held her face in her hands, looking up at her with tears in her eyes. "My beautiful daughter, she whispered. "My Alex…"

Cathy moved even closer then and the two embraced tightly, Alex falling into the comfort of her mother's touch, feeling her tremble beneath her, her own body doing the same.

She looked at her father over her mother's shoulder and noted those piercingly blue eyes were watering profusely as he smiled at her.

"Pumpkin," he offered, his voice shaky.

Alex and her mother ended the hug and she stepped to her father and the two embraced, as well.

"We're so glad you're OK, Princess. Your mom and I…" his voice caught again.

Alex could feel the emotion in that simple hug and she began to cry even harder. "I'm OK now, Daddy. I'm home. I'm safe. The kids are fine."

"Grandpa! Grandma!" Theo's voice then, coming down the stairs, more footsteps following him.

Alex pulled away from her father and then the two grandparents were greeted by squeaky voices and hugs and kisses, the three Benson-Cabot kids so happy to see them.

Alex only smiled, arms folded, watching the love they had for their grandparents.

"Alex, Dear…?" Cathy questioned, holding on to Theo and Grace, Isabel with her grandfather.

Alex looked at her mother and smiled. "I'm just so glad you're here." She nodded. "That's all." She reached out and tousled Theo's hair lightly, smiling down at her son. "Why don't you two go upstairs and get unpacked and settled and refreshed and then come back down and we can talk." She looked at them now. "OK?"

Cathy tried a smile. "That sounds good, Dear. And I'll whip us up something for dinner when the time comes. OK?"

"Sounds good, Mom."

"And Olivia? Is she out getting these people and putting them in jail?"

Alex smiled. "Yes, Mom. She's at work. She'll probably be late."

"Well, no worries, Alex. Anything you need…your father and I are here." She looked at her husband. "Right, Billy?"

"That's right, Cath…" He smiled down at her. "Anything our pumpkin or her little pumpkin sprouts need." He tickled Isabel under her chin, their girl giggling wildly.

And Alex knew that her parents being there was a good decision. They would give her the familiarity, the comfort, and the love she craved—along with her wife and children.

And that was what she needed.


Alex pulled her terrycloth robe on, having just finished a long soak in Epsom salts and lavender oil, and secured the ties. She was hoping to reduce some of the pain she was still feeling in her back and neck, but the warm liquid hadn't done anything to alleviate the sharp, shooting discomfort that seemed to be never-yielding.

She sat on her side of the bed and opened her night stand drawer and pulled out a bottle of prescription Tylenol #3 with codeine that had been given to her as she was discharged from the hospital.

She eyed the alarm clock next to her side and saw that it was almost eight o'clock. They had already had a dinner of oven baked fried chicken and green beans and mashed potatoes, and her parents were watching the kids downstairs and had told her to take all the time she needed and to do what she needed to do.

She was a little hesitant to take a pain pill but knew that it would help her immensely—not only with the ache she was feeling, but also with the sleep that she would soon attempt to take.

So she unscrewed the lid and emptied one into her palm. She would take one and then bathe the kids and read them a story and by the time all of those tasks had been completed it would kick in and she would just retire for the evening.

She reached for her bottle of water and then tossed the cylindrical medication into her mouth and then took a long swig of water, closing her eyes as it made its way down.

She would feel better soon and she would be tired enough to sleep. And hopefully her wife wouldn't be home too late and she would get to be with her in bed beside her and feel her warmth.

She placed the bottle on the bed side table and then let her hands go limp in her lap, her gaze moving to the windows. It was already dark outside and she knew, just like the night prior, the images would soon come and haunt her, showing themselves when she least expected them and tormenting her into remembering the most harrowing ordeal of her entire life.

She felt her eyes well with tears then, her lower lip tremble, and she thought of how much she wished for Olivia in times like these. How she wished she didn't feel so dependent on her love and security to get her through. How she wished she could be a strong enough person on her own to buck up and put on a happy face and just get through this.

But there was no doubt. When someone was your soulmate, the person you were meant to be with for all of eternity, those emotions would never just go away. She wiped beneath her eyes and took a deep breath and stood, knowing what she needed to do as a mother and looking forward to the time she would be pressed to her wife, feeling her presence and the serenity that it brought to her in a time like this.


Two down. One more to go.

Armando hadn't folded. Hadn't snitched on his brother and Olivia didn't expect him to.

After all, what bond was stronger than your own flesh and blood? Armando had thrown Pedro under the bus, though, several times in her interrogation. Claiming the "dumb ass" only wanted to get laid because he never got any otherwise.

Armando did, however, mention the fact that he knew of Alexandra Cabot and what happened to their father—even though Armando was only eight years old—and that he was all for helping his brother take the bitch and show her a lesson.

So now, Olivia only had one more person she wished to interrogate. The ring leader of this entire nightmare. The one that would have her wife feeling the effects of what had happened to her, what he had put her through, for months, even years, to come.

She entered Interrogation Room #1 and closed the door behind her, not looking at Raul who was sitting at the table, waiting for her, hands folded, knees spread, unfazed. She had watched him through the one-way glass for a while, studying him, his actions, his demeanor, just trying to get a vibe for his disposition before she actually went in.

She stood against the wall opposite him, next to the viewing window, and folded her arms. She knew that she was slightly concealed by the wall to the other detectives on the other side. But she also knew that all eyes were on her at this point—Carisi, Fin, and Rollins—all in on the witnessing what could and would happen.

"Who the fuck are you?" Raul questioned calmly, a hint of steely anger in his voice.

Keep calm, Olivia reminded herself. Don't fuck this up.

She pushed her back off of the wall then and then moved toward him, still not looking at him. She casually began placing the eight by ten photos on the table in front of him, lining them up in groups of five, making three rows.

"Why are you showing me these?" he asked.

Olivia still remained quiet as she began to walk around the room, slowly, arms folded again, feeling her heart rate begin to increase, the slow, rolling boil beginning to reach the surface.

"Why the fuck are these here, bitch?"

Olivia smiled then and laughed lightly through her nose. "Finally…you do know who I am. I'm that bitch."

"What the…? What the hell, lady?"

Olivia moved in then, her adrenaline flowing throughout her body faster than she could control. She slammed her hands on the metal surface next to the lean man in the white tank and jeans and then finally looked at him.

His smirk was spread across his face now as his dark eyes looked into her own. "Oh, you're that detective bitch from when I was thirteen."

"That's me…" she smiled facetiously and raised her eyebrows. She moved in closer. "And you took the wrong bitch, Raul. You took the bitch that isn't gonna get you locked up for a long time."

"I ain't do nothin'." He closed his eyes and turned his head away from her.

Olivia slammed her fist on the table then and hooked her left foot around the right front leg of his chair and forcefully turned it to face her, the metal-on-concrete screeching sound echoing throughout the small space.

The door opened. "Detective? You need help?" Fin asked.

"Not now, Fin." Olivia's death glare was on Raul.

"You need a break?" he asked.

"She finally peeled her eyes away from Raul. "I said I'm fine, Detective."

Fin only nodded and closed the door again.

She returned her eyes to Raul.

He smirked. "I think you need a break. Detective. What are you like forty-five…fifty?"

Olivia smirked back. "And I could twist your neck so hard you'd take your last breath right here and now."

"Oh, yeah?" He looked her over then, his eyes roaming her upper torso, her lower body, and then back to her face. "Do it, then."

She smiled at him and then stood erect, folding her arms and beginning to walk around again.

"Get these pictures outta here…" he requested casually. "I don't need to see these."

"No, that's right, Raul. Because you lived it. That's your apartment, where you held my wife hostage, where you were going to let your friend Pedro rape her, and then let her die." She stopped pacing then and faced him. "You don't need to see them because you were there and it was all your idea."

"Please…" he mocked, looking away from her again.

"Please, what?" She moved to the opposite side of the table then and then lifted it and slammed it back down. "Please what, Raul?"

"Please…you're wasting my time."

"Wasting your time? Such a busy drug lord? Too busy being a loser? No future. No prospects except living in that shitty apartment the rest of your life. Depending on your grandma to bring you food? Fucking your brother's girl? Beating her?"

Raul's face showed increasing anger then, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, fists balled as they rested on the aluminum surface.

"What's the matter, Raul? Did I hit a nerve? You see…" Olivia moved to his left again, "…men like you, the ones with big egos and God complexes, thinking they should be owed everything and given everything in life…they're usually the ones with the…" she watched his face begin to burn with rage and then she glanced down at his lap and then back up, "…small penises."

He lunged at her like lightning then, wrapping his cuffed hands around her neck, Olivia bracing her own on his as he began to plow her backward. "I should've taken you, too, and let both you bitches die!" he bellowed.

Olivia's back hit the wall with with force, her head bouncing off, then and Carisi, Fin, and two police officers burst in the door and immediately got Raul off of her, Olivia stopping to catch her breath as she held her hand to her neck.

The officers cuffed him and began to escort him out, the young man fighting them the entire way.

"You'll get yours, bitch!" he shouted just as he exited the room.

"You OK, Liv?" Fin asked.

Olivia nodded and swallowed, looking at the older detective. "Is that enough of a confession?"

Fin smiled. "It was for me, Detective."

Olivia smiled then, letting a breath out. But that brief happiness was short-lived. She felt her throat constrict, her eyes begin to well with tears, and her heart begin to break for her wife once more. After being in the same room with all three scumbags, she saw a small sliver of the men that tortured her and treated her so badly for the time she was held hostage, and all she wanted to do was head home and be there for her.

"It's eleven o'clock. Go home, Liv. Arraignment is at ten tomorrow. Go home and be witcha family."

Olivia nodded and looked into her partner's warm, brown eyes. "I will, Fin. Thanks," she said softly.

She headed to her office to grab her keys, get back on the streets of Manhattan, and head home to her wife and just be with her in any way that she could.


Olivia slid her jeans down her legs and then stepped out of them and walked to the hamper and tossed them in, watching her wife as she lay in bed, the moonlight casting stripes of light onto her sleeping form. She was on her left side, facing her.

The brunette slipped her blouse over her head, her eyes going directly back to her wife again. Alex's hands were twitching again, her head moving, face lifted to the ceiling. She unclasped her bra and tossed it in, as well, before moving to grab her black chemise from the foot bench of the bed and slip it on over her head, still eyeing her restless wife in bed.

Alex moaned and then gasped. "No…" she said softly. "Please, don't…" she whimpered.

Olivia lifted the covers and slid beneath them and moved into her wife and wrapped her arm around her. No words were said. But she could feel her wife move further into her and wrap her own arm around her, the two now holding each other tightly, body against body.

Olivia closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the blonde's, feeling her warm breath on her mouth, her wife's body begin to settle. Alex took a deep breath and then let it out slowly before cuddling into her further, her trembling ceasing. And within seconds, the blonde's deep, restful breathing could be heard, signaling her wife had fallen back to sleep.

And Olivia relished in the feeling, the sensation of her wife in her arms, feeling her body and entire being begin to relax against her, knowing that this was going to take time, her wife needing all of her along the way. And Olivia would be there for the woman in this world that she couldn't imagine life without.

She closed her own eyes and drifted to sleep, eager to see the three men who brutalized her wife, perhaps, begin just one of their many future days in court.


A/N: Thank you to those of you who read and review. I hope you enjoyed.