Chapter 1: Don't Want to Start Another Fire

Summary: Rafael mopes after Olivia pushed him away following the Wheatley trial. Their friends stage an intervention, forcing them to face their demons and repair their relationship.

Notes: I had a meltdown to I'll Never Love Again by Lady Gaga the other day and thought it would make a great Barson song. This will be a short fic, just a handful of chapters. Thank you to Michele Kaufman on Twitter for the idea to have an intervention to get Liv and Rafa speaking again, though it isn't exactly what you had in mind.

He never felt so lonely in the city that he loved more than he did right then. Considering how everything fell apart at his feet, Rafael Barba wondered why he bothered returning to New York City at all.

Why was everything so… difficult?

Standing in his old Park Avenue high-rise condo that he somehow managed to get back, he stared through the large, double-paned window at the cityscape before him and at the scotch in his hand. He thought of Olivia Benson, of the close friendship they once had and the something more they were headed towards before he left everything behind that fateful February day.

He thought his return would be his redemption, but he was a fool to have thought that things would go right back to the way they had been before he left. Too much had changed while he was gone, everyone and everything felt so foreign, and it left him disoriented as he tried to find his place in the new world order.

Every choice, every decision Rafael made since his return seemed to be the wrong one in Olivia's eyes and here, he was now, discarded like some misfit toy because Olivia felt betrayed by him. She only had eyes and time for her old partner now that he was back as well. The prodigal son had returned and with Elliot Stabler's presence in Olivia's life once again, everyone else ceased to matter.

Frustrated with his own maudlin musings on an otherwise perfect Saturday, Rafael crossed the room, taking a seat on the bench in front of the prized fixture in his home. When he originally left, he sold or donated all his furniture and needed new items upon his return. Knowing he lived alone and rarely had guests, he figured there was no use in purchasing a dining table this time around. Instead, he selected something he wanted so badly when he was a young boy yet wasn't allowed to have. There, in what should be the dining room of his home, sat a baby grand piano with a glossy black finish.

Between the lessons from his youth and recent self-teachings, Rafael was becoming quite adept at playing the piano. His long fingers were well-suited for the art as they glided across the keys, filling his condo with melody while he played. He even took to singing when the songs had lyrics. He thought his voice wasn't too bad and, thankfully, none of his neighbors had complained. Yet.

Flexing his fingers to warm them up, he settled more comfortably on the bench. He was drawn toward a heartbreaking song in his melancholy, and he began to the play the notes with a heavy sigh. The music spoke to his soul, poking at the hurt he felt, and the lyrics spun from his lips when he reached the chorus.

Don't want to feel another touch
Don't want to start another fire
Don't want to know another kiss
No other name falling off my lips
Don't want to give my heart away
To another stranger
Or let another day begin
Won't even let the sunlight in
No, I'll never love again
I'll never love again, oh, oh, oh, oh

When we first met
I never thought that I would fall
I never thought that I'd find myself

His voice broke during the second verse, his throat thick with tears, yet his fingers kept playing. Swallowing deep breaths of air, he played through the chorus before picking up the lyrics in the next verse.

I don't want to know this feeling
Unless it's you and me
I don't want to waste a moment, ooh
And I don't want to give somebody else the better part of me
I would rather wait for you, ooh

Don't want to feel another touch
Don't want to start another fire
Don't want to know another kiss
Baby, unless they are your lips

Don't want to give my heart away
To another stranger
Don't let another day begin
Won't let the sunlight in
Oh, I'll never love again
Never love again
Never love again
Oh, I'll never love again

His fingers crawled to a stop, and he slammed the lid down over the keys, his chest heaving. Music typically lifted his mood, but this song left him more wrecked emotionally than he was before he sat down to play. Fuck.

Did Olivia even know the depth of his feelings for her when she shut him out so completely? He almost didn't want to know the answer.

A sharp knock on his door startled him moments after he finished playing. Standing, Rafael fought to tamp down the emotions bubbling in his chest and moved to the door. A quick peek through the peephole had him raising his eyebrows in confusion. He opened the door to see the concerned face of his longtime friend Rita Calhoun along with the shocked faces of Amanda Rollins and Sonny Carisi standing before him.

"You three make quite the eclectic group. To what do I owe the displeasure?" he grumbled as Rita pushed passed him into his apartment. "Please, do come in."

Rita merely glared at him while Carisi and Rollins looked abashed. "You play piano and sing?" Carisi blurted upon seeing the baby grand and realizing that what they heard while they were outside his apartment was actually Rafael and not a song playing through a sound system.

Rafael stared back at the ADA, neither confirming nor denying his question. His green gaze shifted as Amanda stepped forward and hugged him with a sniffle. His arms came up to wrap around her of their own accord, his body starved for friendly affection.

"That was a beautiful yet heartbreaking song. Your voice was so haunting while singing it. It brought tears to my eyes," the blonde detective admitted quietly. Mine too, he wanted to reply but he kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Yes, yes, you play and sing beautifully, yada yada." Rita gestured with her hands impatiently and Rafael glared at her again.

"Well, I know you didn't come to hear me play," he said, eyes still on Rita. "What do you want? More to the point, why are you three together?"

The three of them glanced at each other before a decision was made without a word spoken, and Rita stepped closer to Rafael. "You're going to hate this, but… this is an intervention. You've done enough moping."

"I'm not moping," he retorted, ignoring what she said before that.

Rita arched one perfectly sculpted eyebrow daring him to continue and his shoulders hunched.

"If it's any consolation," Rollins chimed in, "Fin is having a similar conversation with Liv at her apartment now, too."

"Who needs enemies when you have interfering fucking friends." Rafael ran his fingers through his hair haphazardly, grumbling under his breath. Turning back to face the three interlopers, he said, "An intervention? Really?"

"Yes, really," Rita replied.

"I'd like to see you try. I'm not sure what you think it will accomplish." He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I'd like to see you try to stop me, Barba."

He flopped down onto his couch with a frustrated huff. "Fine. What's your big plan? You going to trap Liv and I in a closet? Force us to go to therapy together? You're not going to fake someone's death to bring us together in our grief, are you? Because that would be low, even for you."

"Jesus Christ, Barba, you are so fucking dramatic." Rita rolled her eyes. "No, nothing like that. We're sending you on a retreat."

He stared at her, aghast. "I am not going camping in the woods, Rita!"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Rita questioned her sanity and plunged forward. "It's not camping in the woods, Rafael. It's a wine-tasting retreat in Big Sur, California and you will stay in a luxury yurt, if you must know. Way to spoil the surprise."

"A luxury what?" He had no idea what a yurt was, but it sounded painful.

"A yurt. It's how the rich like to go camping. Basically, it's an environmentally friendly cabin. You've heard the term 'glamping' haven't you? You'll see when you get there."

"Oh? And when am I going?" He looked at Rita who smirked back at him. His eyes shifted to Rollins, but she avoided his gaze. Finally, he glared at Carisi until the man responded.

"You're flight leaves in four hours," Carisi replied after glancing at his watch.

"Four hours?" Rafael nearly shrieked his voice was so high. "What if I refuse to go?"

"That's why she brought us," Rollins chimed in, and he smirked.

"Oh? You're the muscle?" he snarked. Fuck. He really wasn't in the mood for this, but he knew Rita. She probably dropped a small fortune to set this up for him and she wasn't going to let him out of it, no matter how much he complained. "What about work?"

"You're fired for a week," Rita replied without hesitation.

Resigned to his fate, Rafael stood. He was about to head to his bedroom to pack when he stopped. Knowing the answer already, he asked anyway. "I assume Olivia is going to the same place?"

"It would hardly be an effective intervention if we didn't actually intervene, would it?" Rita replied.

"You are such a lawyer," he griped, spinning on his heel, the cackle of Rita's laughter followed him down the hall to his bedroom.

This was going to be an epic disaster. At least there would be copious amounts of wine involved.

TBC