AN: So, honestly, I really didn't think I gave you guys a serious cliffie next time. Apparently, Chris feels otherwise.

Here's Chapter 4, kids. Enjoy and please read and review.

Catie

Tuesday, 7:30am

Don Cragen was in an unusually positive mood as he walked to the 1-6. He didn't think he constantly was in a bad mood; he just knew that his position in the NYPD took both a physical and emotional toll on him. As he got older, he knew the pressures from work had begun to affect physically; those dark circles under his eyes wouldn't go away with a good night's sleep, no matter how hard he tried.

Today, though, Don Cragen felt well, elated actually. He had woken up to a text message at midnight, which had made his day, week, month, and year all at once. "Cap-we cracked it. Will tell more in morning. Munch".

That morning, Don had embraced the world, smelled the roses, and treated himself to $5.00 cup of coffee just because he felt good. His detectives had seen the worst of the worst, but weren't bitter to each other. They were still four very talented and dedicated detectives. They didn't require any hand-holding; they were more than able to do things on their own. All they required, really, was the occasional warrant and reality check, both of which he was able to provide.

Don threw back the rest of his coffee and threw away the Styrofoam mug as he crossed the street and headed up the stairs to the 1-6. As long as John hadn't touched the coffee maker, today was going to be a good day.

Inside the 1-6

Olivia sat at her desk, her head in her hands. Her coffee was slowly getting cold, but she didn't really care. Elliot sat across from her, alternating between staring out into space and scribbling on a legal pad. John leaned against a table, staring out the window. Fin was taking a quick shower upstairs. None of the detectives could believe it. Another dead end in the Allison Morris case.

Fin had been apologizing profusely to everyone about getting them up and then disappointing them. Although everyone could have really made use of an extra few hours sleep, any idea was a good one and they all knew they would have done the same thing, had they been hit with inspiration.

In their sulky silence, they probably wouldn't have noticed Cragen had he not been humming. The noise invasion startled Olivia first, who looked up, surprised. "Captain, why the humming?"

"Well, why not Liv? The weather has finally broken, I got a good night sleep last night, we have a break on the Allison Mor-…we no longer have a lead, do we?"

Olivia shook her head sadly. "We thought we had cracked it wide open…but the DNA evidence didn't add up."

"Well, what's your new tactic?"

"We've all sorta been thinking about it, but we haven't really created a new tactic because Fin's been taking a shower," Elliot said, putting down his pen.

Don nodded and walked into his office. "Let me know if you need anything." His detectives nodded, and he walked over to get himself a cup of coffee. One sip and he knew exactly who made it.

So much for a good day.

Monica's Touareg, 12:30pm

"Allison, I'm so glad you're doing better," Monica said, as she backed her car out of a parking spot. Allison gave her a weak nod, but kept her eyes glued to the road.

"Warren and I are so happy you're coming back. You would not believe all the trouble we had trying to find a replacement for you. I even had to play real estate agent…." Monica trailed off a little. She had never been very close with Allison, but she had picked up on the subtle hints that she was just not up for conversation. Monica had never really enjoyed uneasy silences, but she had also never known anyone who had been raped before. Using her better judgment, Monica quieted down. The rest of the ride to Allison's house was silent.

Allison's House, 10:30pm

For most of the weekend, Allison had thought about how wonderful going home would be. She could cook a real meal for herself, instead of choking down awful hospital food. She would be back in her own bed, instead of the hospital bed that had rubbed her pressure points the wrong way. She would be able be able to take a really good shower, with her own strawberry scented shower gel and her favorite shampoo and conditioner, instead of having to use the generic, mass-produced crap Mercy Hospital had given her. She could wear actual pjs, instead of the hospital gowns that barely covered anything. She would even be able to shave her legs, something that she had been dying to do since about Thursday afternoon.

Now she was full, clean, warm, and settled in bed. She had checked her house alarm twice and walked around her house at least a half a dozen times to make sure no one could get in. She was thoroughly exhausted and had to be at work early the next day. But, she just couldn't fall asleep. Something had been weighing on her mind since her attack. She desperately wanted to tell someone, but she couldn't even bring herself to tell Dr. Michaelson about it. But, someone had to know. Someone had to stop this.

Allison propped herself up in bed with her cell phone and began flipping through her directory, trying to find the best person to call. There was no one she could call. Everyone that she thought of was already scared or nervous for her and she didn't want to bother anyone more than she already had with her rape. She was so desperate that even talking to a clerk at the pizza delivery place would be alright with her. When she called, though, they had already closed for the night. So had the Chinese takeout place.

As she was preparing for a night without sleep, she suddenly had an idea. She quickly crawled out of bed and got her purse off the dresser. She turned on a lamp and dumped the contents of her purse onto the bed. Seeing what she needed, she plucked a business card out of the pile and dialed the number.

"Stabler."

"Detective Stabler, this is Allison Morris."

"Ms. Morris, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, I need to talk to you. And Detective Benson. It's about my case."

The 1-6, 1:00am

"And, just, I thought he was such a good guy," Allison said, talking more to the table then the detectives sitting across from her. "He was so charming and charismatic. He made me feel beautiful when I felt ugly, he spoiled me with flowers and little trinkets…and then…"

"And then, what?" Elliot pressed. Allison sucked in a deep breath and continued.

"And then, his sweetness melted away. He started being mean where he normally would have been kind and understanding. When he…when he…when he hit me, it was the last straw. I ended it," Allison whispered, embarrassed about sharing her secret. Olivia reached over and tapped her hand.

"Allison, when a victim begins talking about what happened to them, positive progress can begin. This is really good for you."

"No, no, it's really not," Allison responded.

"Why do you say that?" Elliot asked.

"Because I told someone…and look what happened to me! I was raped, god damnit! I was slowly gang raped and it's all because I told someone about him hitting me. I made a horrible mistake and I wish I never had said anything!" Allison put her head on the table and wept, all sorts of pain and anguish coming out of her eyes in a liquid form. Elliot ran to get her a tissue box. She smiled at him gratefully and blew his nose. Olivia regained eye contact with her.

"Allison, you tell us what happened, and we can make sure that the people who did this to you will never hurt you or anyone else again," Olivia said, in a quiet level voice.

Allison looked at her carefully, scrutinizing her. "Detective Benson, I told a cop…and I was raped. What reason do I have to ever trust a cop with this again?"

Olivia was stumped; Allison had a point. Elliot cut in, in a kind voice he normally reserved for victims, his children, and Olivia. "Allison, we're sorry the cops you told before didn't believe you or help you. Please let us correct this wrong. That way, you can live in peace and, although most of the women in this country may not know it, you will have saved millions of people from the hell you lived through."

Allison considered this. "But, will I get in trouble for not telling you guys about this earlier?"

"I'm sure you could strike a deal with the ADA, like, say no charges will be filed if you testify," Elliot offered.

"Is that a pretty common deal?"

"In this case, I think it would the only thing our ADA would possibly consider."

Allison took a deep breath and looked across the table at the two detectives. They were so warm and friendly; Allison almost wanted to tell them her whole life story, without abandon. "Alright, let's do this before I lose my nerve."

Olivia and Elliot exchanged a small smile. Olivia made eye contact with Allison as Elliot prepared to take notes. "Alright, Allison. Start at the very beginning."