Chapter 16

Olivia blinked hard, forcing logic to somehow take hold over her body. When she turned around, Elliot was at her side, shooting a death glare at the figure who was now crossing over toward them. "Liv, are you okay?"

He saw her body stiffen, heard her breath catch in her throat, and he swore he had never felt such deep hatred in his life. Olivia's eyes sought his--needing security, needing support, needing something concrete to draw her back in. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened."

Cragen had crossed over toward them, setting up an invisible barrier between Olivia and the approaching figure. "Tucker." The name rolled off of his lips with a newly defined sense of contempt. "I think you've come close enough."

Tucker glared back at him. "What's going on here?"

"That's exactly what we're going to find out," Cragen managed grimly. He nodded toward the interrogation room. "I think it's about time we sit down and have a little chat."

Elliot felt a sudden helplessness as he watched them leave. Cragen was cool, calm, collected. His eyes held a blank understanding, a silent confirmation that Elliot couldn't even begin to decipher. And it was then that he finally realized Tucker's presence had nothing to do with his suspension. Cragen had called him in, and Elliot had no idea why. He turned back to Olivia, searching for an answer that only she could provide. "Liv, why did seeing Tucker upset you so much?"

Her lower lip began to tremble. "I don't know."

Damn it. Why couldn't she hold herself together? She rubbed her eyes, wanting so much to find the solace that she had somehow managed to uncover in a few hours of sleep. She wanted to find some way to explain why the presence of a man she had known for years completely unnerved her. God, maybe Cragen had been right. Maybe she did need a break. She couldn't even begin to hold herself together.

"Olivia." Elliot reached for her arm, turning her back toward him gently. "You've been looking at mug shots all morning. Why is Tucker the one who set you off?"

Olivia didn't want to answer his question. She didn't want to think about why. She didn't want to think about what it meant. She didn't want to think about the fact that as much as they all despised Tucker, he single-handedly stood for the stability and morality they all needed in a world that was turned upside down on a daily basis. And so she did the only thing she knew how to do.

"Elliot, leave me alone." Without thinking, without stopping, she pushed him away from her. Snatching her jacket and keys off of her desk, she turned toward the door. "I mean it, Elliot."

I mean it, Elliot. The words hit him, scrambling every last remnant of the known into the unrecognizable. He was afraid to move toward her. He was afraid to follow her. He was afraid of the truth behind her response.

"What is Detective Stabler doing here?" Tucker raised his eyes to meet Cragen's harsh glare. "And why the hell do you have a rape victim back on active duty?"

"Olivia is one of my best detectives. It's her decision when she's ready to come back." Cragen paused. "And Elliot should have never been suspended in the first place."

"Says who?"

"I talked to your superior officer. You never had the authority to pull him out to begin with?" Cragen snapped.

The smallest flicker of acknowledgement slipped in before Tucker turned back, crossing his arms in front of him. "He's guilty."

"No, he's not," Cragen spat back. "Olivia cleared him. He's innocent, but somebody is going through a hell of a lot of trouble to make him appear guilty."

"If you're just going to go over my head, what's this little meeting about anyway?"

"I think you know exactly what this meeting is about. I think you know a hell of a lot more about this case than you're letting on."

Tucker leaned forward. "Are you accusing me of something, Captain?"

"Are you denying it?" Cragen retorted. He tossed the LUDS in his hand across the table. "Care to tell me why your phone number is on here?"

Tucker picked up the paperwork, skimming it over quickly. "I don't have to explain my personal phone calls to you."

"No, but you do have to explain why your phone number appears on the LUDS for a suspect five times in the last six days. Who the hell is he?"

Tucker remained silent before he finally spoke. "That's none of your business."

"If you even laid one finger on her, I swear to God I'm going to…"

Tucker stood up quickly. "Are you threatening me, Captain?"

Cragen moved closer, and Tucker grudgingly slid back into his seat. "Unless you want to be charged as an accessory, I suggest you start talking now."

Tucker stared back defiantly before he finally began to crumble. "It's not possible."

Cragen sat down across from him. "What's not possible? If you know something about this case, you have to tell me."

The expression on Tucker's face faltered, and a vulnerability that Cragen had never seen before came over him. "I'm sorry. I swear to God I didn't think he could ever do something like this. If I had known, I would have stopped him."

"Stopped who?"

Tucker's shoulders fell forward dejectedly. "My little brother."

Cragen's head snapped up. "Your brother, but…"

Tucker spoke before he had the chance the finish his question. "I changed my name when I joined IAB. I was tired of all the questions. I took my mother's maiden name."

Cragen nodded in understanding. "How the hell does your brother know Elliot?"

"His name is Bradley Garrett Jamison. Look it up. You'll figure the rest out on your own." Tucker let out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair. "And that's all I'm going to say without my union rep present."


Olivia held her hands in front of her steadily, watching as each clip emptied itself into the target in front of her. Dropping her weapon to her side, she stared back in satisfaction. Yet somehow, it did little to ease the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Damn it. What the hell was wrong with her? She was falling to pieces in front of everyone in a way that she swore she never would. For once in her life, why couldn't she be like everyone else? Why couldn't she just find some sense of balance in her life? Why the hell couldn't she just find some sort of middle ground? She wanted that balance, she needed that balance, but she knew that she would never be able to find it because Olivia Benson never did anything halfway. She either managed to control her emotions, or she completely fell apart.

She had struggled her entire life with balancing the ends of one extreme or the other. As a teenager, she had shunned anyone who tried to approach her, preferring to struggle without friends than admit the truth about her mother. When that hadn't soothed the pain, she became the college sorority girl surrounded by a house full of girls that somehow still never quite understood her. When night after night of sobriety hadn't managed to make a difference, she had tried following in her mother's footsteps. But Serena Benson had never noticed.

When no relationship left a void in her life, she tried to fill it with one night after another of men who always wanted something more. She had spent nights with men far older than her years. She had spent others with those she would never admit were far too young. And she had found satisfaction in knowing that she had full control over it all.

She had taken a job that allowed her to spend every waking moment obsessing over her past without having to admit to anyone else that her life held a void that couldn't be filled any other way. She pushed herself into impossible, dangerous situations, never caring if it ended in her demise because without helping turn victims into survivors, there was nothing worth surviving for. She was the first to come in the morning and the last to leave late at night, and not one of them questioned it. Because it was what they all did. It was how they all survived. And damn it if she was going to lose that. Damn it if she was going to let one week of her life destroy that.

"Olivia?"

She turned to face the voice behind her. "A doc at the shooting range?" She arched her eyebrows suspiciously. "George, what are you doing here?"

"I heard about what happened with Tucker. Do you want to talk about it?"

She raised her gun again, hoping that each shot she fired may somehow soften the blow. "No," she whispered.

"Olivia, was Tucker the one who attacked you?"

Her eyes flew back to him, surprised at the directness of his question. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Olivia, you know I have to ask?"

"Damn it, George. I don't know who attacked me." She took a deep breath. "I can't explain it, but when I saw Tucker come into the squad room, there was just something about him. I just felt like I was in that basement all over again."

He accepted her confession, not pushing for anything more than she was ready to give. He tried to change the subject. "I heard you were finally able to sleep."

"Elliot talked to you about that?" There was a hint of betrayal in her voice.

George nodded. "I'm glad I was able to help."

Olivia turned back toward him slowly, confusion registering in her voice. "What are you talking about?"

He seemed startled by her response. "Nothing."

"No, George." Her eyes darted back toward him, and she tilted her head forward defiantly. "What are you talking about?" She searched his eyes, and then it hit her. She felt the truth slam into her body and suddenly she wished she'd never asked. Maybe ignorance really was bliss because the truth hurt far more than than the unknown. The truth was every bit as painful as the knife that had torn into her flesh.

"You son of a bitch!" Olivia tossed open the door of the locker room, not even caring if anyone else was in there.

"Olivia, what's wrong?" As soon as the words escaped from his lips, Elliot knew. He squeezed his eyes closed, slipping the t-shirt in his hand over his head. "Let me explain."

"To hell with explanations. Elliot, I trusted you."

Every bit of the emotion choked up in her voice tore him apart. He turned to face her slowly. "I just wanted to help you."

The laughter that ripped from her throat was bitter. "You wanted to help me?" she spat out, resentment rising in her voice. She moved closer, staring him down with a fury he'd never seen before.

"I can explain."

"I don't need an explanation, Elliot. I know what happened."

He reached for her hand. "No, you don't."

She jerked away. "Yes, I do. You let me sit there and tell you what it felt like when he drugged me, and the entire time, you're slipping Valium in my coffee?"

"Olivia, it wasn't like that." His words were desperate.

"Elliot, don't lie to me," she snapped back coldly.

He straightened up, crossing back toward her. "Fine, Huang gave me the prescription. He said that you might need it at some point. Olivia, when I got there and realized you hadn't slept in days, I knew there was no way in hell you were ever going to take it voluntarily. I was just trying to help."

"You weren't trying to help. You were trying to make decisions for me."

Elliot felt the sting behind her words, but refused to recognize the truth behind them. "Like you're one to talk. Come on, Olivia. How many times have you insisted we force feed a perp medication to get through a trial?"

He wanted to take the words back as soon as they slipped from his lips. The color drained from her face. And then he felt it--the blow that sent him reeling backwards, but didn't even come close to comparing to the one he knew he deserved. "Go to hell."

"Olivia, wait." Without even thinking about the consequences of his actions, he reached for her again.

She struggled out of his grasp. "Don't even think about it," she commanded coldly. "If you can't trust your partner, Elliot…"

It's time to get a new one.

He finished her sentence silently in his head--words that had not been uttered in years, but stung more today than they ever had four years earlier. They were the words he'd fought like hell never to hear again after Eric Plumber, ones that had kept him awake night after night following Victor Gitano. They defined the one thing he'd always known would push him over the edge. He watched her with a helplessness he couldn't identify as she whipped around, stumbling toward the door.

"Olivia," he whispered, wishing so much that she was still there to hear the words he hadn't been able to give her. "I'm sorry."