"I know what it's like to have to face down your old man. Mine's dead 15 years, and my hand still curls into a fist whenever I think of him"
His words kept replaying in his head, still feeling like poison on his tongue. Any mention of his father was always enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.
It added to the guilt he was already feeling for pressuring Amaro into to testifying against his father, only for the outcome to be less than satisfactory.
He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't hear her enter the apartment.
He never heard her enter the room.
The hand on his shoulder, startling him, is what finally alerted him to her presence.
"You know, don't you?" he asked when he saw the concern on her face.
"Only what little information I got out of Nick," she sighed as she took a seat on the coffee table opposite him.
"Thought he would have told you everything," his usual tone of sarcasm falling flat with each word he spoke.
A shrug of her shoulders is what he got in response, "He told me to ask you,"
Rafael gave her a pointed stare, "Pissed at me no doubt,"
"The opposite actually," she took the glass of whiskey out of his hands and took a sip, "He seemed concerned,"
"Really?" he couldn't help the tone of disbelief that accompanied his words.
"Mhmm," she took another sip, "Should we be concerned?"
"No," the fact he looked away from her as he answered told her otherwise.
That's what she was afraid of when Nick told her things hadn't gone well.
"What happened Rafael?" she asked softly as she put the glass of whiskey down.
"We lost," he answered.
"You've lost cases before," she tried to lighten the mood, but to no avail.
"I know," he still refused to meet her gaze.
She reached out and took his hands in hers, "What happened?"
"We lost," he repeated but this time she could hear how tired he was.
"Look at me," she pleaded with him, a plea that went ignored.
"Rafi," the use of his nickname, a name which only she could call him, caused him to finally look at her.
She wasn't prepared for the look of defeat in his eyes.
"What happened?" she asked once more, "And don't tell me you lost. That much I know,"
"I made him testify for nothing," and then she understood, "He didn't want to, but I pushed him anyway, and it was all for nothing,"
"Babe, if Nick testified, it's because he wanted to," the softness is her voice normally soothed him, but at that moment he was already drowning in his guilt.
"Twenty minutes," he removed his hands from her grasp, "Twenty minutes they were out. Not guilty,"
He stood and walked over to the window. Hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped as he stared out at the night.
She didn't move from her seat or make sound. She knew he wasn't done, that there was more going on. She just waited him out, waited for him to continue speaking.
"My father was just like his. Self-righteous, proud, stubborn," she could see him tense as he spoke. What he said next startled her, "Abusive,"
She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips.
"The things I made him relive," his voice was flat, almost devoid of emotion, "He went against his entire family because I asked him to, and not guilty is the verdict,"
She crossed the room to join him as he spoke, her arms snaking around his waist and pulling him close.
He sighed when he felt her head resting between his shoulders.
"You never told me about your father," she squeezed him a little tighter when she felt his tense a little more.
"I've never told anyone," he rested a hand on her arm, relishing in the feel of her, "He's been dead fifteen years and he still seems to get to me,"
"That bastard," she mumbled against him.
Rafael chuckled a little at her willingness to curse out a dead man for him.
He broke the embrace to turn and face her.
Before he could say anything, her lips were on his. One hand running fingers through the hair on the base of his neck, the other on the small of his bringing him close.
"I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips as she pulled away.
He stared at her in confusion. Now it was her turn to chuckle, it wasn't often that the counselor was speechless.
"I'm sorry you had a less than perfect father," she held his face in her hands as she continued, "But today was not your fault. It wasn't Nick's fault. His father is a prick, but a prick who knows how to charm a room. There was not a damn thing that you or anyone could have done about it. It was fixed from the start,"
"That makes me feel so much better," the sarcasm was laced with resignation.
"This is not the Rafael Barba who left my bed this morning," her words were followed with another kiss. This one more passionate than the last.
"Late I might add," he said as they broke apart.
"You had a very good reason," she winked seductively.
"Not something I could relay to my boss," he tried to joke with her, but the days events were still consuming him.
"Rafi," the nickname again, "This is not on you,"
"Doesn't feel that way," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" she sensed it was going to take more than a few words to bring him back, but she wasn't going to let him suffer on his own.
Silence was the answer she got in return.
"Let me help you," her voice full of concern once more, "Please don't shut me out,"
"Make me forget?" his eyes pleading with her in a way his voice never would, "We'll talk more in the morning, but right now I just want to forget today ever happened,"
She searched his face for any hint that he was lying, but upon finding nothing but a look of desperation, her hand grabbed his and lead him to the bedroom.
The seductiveness back in her voice as she pushed him onto the bed and began undressing slowly, teasing him, "With pleasure,"