Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone for following this story. I really appreciate all of the fabulous reviews! And I especially want to thank EnforcerandAccuserFan for giving me the fabulous idea that I incorporated into this chapter. Hope you don't mind my using it... Keep the reviews coming! I'll certainly keep writing.

Chapter 19

"Melinda, go home."

Melinda tore her eyes away from the computer screen in front of her. She examined Munch carefully, noting the bags under his eyes. "Like you're one to talk," she tossed back wryly.

He sank down onto a chair across from her. "I just get in trouble when I go home. At least you have a husband and daughter there waiting for you."

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. He remained silent. She sighed. "John, I pride this lab on not making mistakes. I don't know what happened." The hurt behind her words was evident.

"Melinda, it's not your fault. You weren't even here. Mistakes happen. And we've all made plenty of them since this started."

There was something in his voice she didn't recognize, an underlying tone that seemed to imply what she was far too tired to try to figure out. "John, I should have been here," she argued.

"There's a lot of things we should have done." Munch shifted slightly to peer around the desk at her screen. "What are you looking at anyway?"

Melinda hesitated. "Don't get your hopes up yet. A couple of years ago, there was a study conducted at the University of Illinois in Chicago. Now, we already know that GHB can only be tested in blood work for about twelve hours after it is ingested. But this new study stipulates that many date rape drugs including GHB and Rohypnol can be detectable by hair analysis for at least one month after consumption. After the hair follicles grow out, we can test for the concentration of 7-aminoclonazepan in the sample."

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that we may actually be able to prove that Olivia ingested the GHB?"

Melinda nodded. "It's a possibility," she began, her words cautious. "But John, I can't guarantee anything. The research is still relatively new, and assuming we can even replicate the test results, we might have a hard time proving it in court."

Cragen's eyes were trained on the door in front of him. He hesitated, not quite sure whether to step forward or turn around and run like hell the other direction. He glanced at his wrist, willing the clock to suspend time until he could find the courage he needed to move forward. It continued its race forward as if silently mocking him. Okay, so divine intervention didn't seem to be working on his behalf.

Frantically, he reached for his phone. Surely, one of his detectives was in the middle of a crisis, an emergency, a break in the case. He should check in with them. He flipped his phone open. Nothing.No missed calls, no new voice mails, no awaiting messages. Absolutely nothing.

He should check in with Olivia--tell her that she was crazy for returning to work. He should send her back home, demand that she take time off. He should tell her he was worried about her safety. He should try to find some way to convince her that a protective detail was what she needed. He should argue with her about all of it.

Yet somehow he knew it wouldn't do him a bit of good because Olivia Benson always managed to take every one of his arguments and twist them into the unrecognizable. Somehow she managed to tear holes in every bit of reasoning until he found himself caving in to her every demand. And in the end, he never knew what the hell hit him. It was what made her so good at her job, and as much as he would never openly admit it, a part of him was proud of her for it.

"Are you coming in?"

Cragen hesitated, his eyes taking in the woman who stood before him. "No, I uh…I was actually just on my way out to take care of something." The words hung in the air, and he closed his eyes, willing her to believe the words that he knew could never be construed as the truth.

"I hear that a lot," the woman answered gently. "My name is Elizabeth. Come on in. I'll introduce you to the group."

"No, you don't understand. I've already been here. I've already been through…" He broke off miserably, his eyes seeking the floor with a new-found interest.

"And something must have brought you back," she probed gently. She put one hand on his elbow, gently propelling him forward. He wasn't sure what possibly possessed him to follow her.

As he stepped into the room, all eyes were immediately drawn to him. "Hi everyone. Let's get started. Today, I want to introduce you to a new member."

Cragen froze. He couldn't do this. Not again. He squeezed his eyes shut, and then suddenly he remembered why he was there. He remembered the determination within her even when she awoke in the hospital room to kick them out. He remembered the fire in her eyes when she sat at her desk, silently begging him to allow her to stay. He remembered her strength, her perseverance and how they somehow always managed to come out on top even when she managed to fall apart. He needed to find that same strength. He needed to find that perseverance. He owed that to her. He owed that to all of them. He opened his eyes again, staring out at the sea of faces in front of him. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

"I'm Donald Cragen." He took a deep breath. "I'm a recovering alcoholic, and I've been sober for the last twenty-seven years until last week…"

The door swung open silently. Edward Tucker shifted his weight uneasily. "How the hell do you know where I live?"

Fin glared back at the man across from him without really seeing him. He ignored the question. "Where's your brother?"

Tucker sighed wearily. "You shouldn't even be talking to me without my union rep present."

Fin stepped closer, his fists closing around Tucker's shirt as he pulled him in closer, pinning him up against the door frame. "I don't care about your union rep. I'm not here on department record," he sneered. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Tucker managed quietly. The fire in his voice was gone, leaving behind nothing but complete and utter resignation. He made no move to fight back, no move to escape Fin's grasp.

Fin tightened his grasp, and then something within him snapped. Every bit of the rage he had fought back since the moment he had stood outside of Olivia's hospital room welled up within him. He had been afraid to go in, afraid to acknowledge the truth. He had let her down then, but he was not about to let it happen again. With his free hand, Fin reached for his Glock. "Don't give me that. He's your brother, and if you don't start talkin' now, I swear to God I'm gonna…"

"You're going to do what?" Tucker broke in softly. "You're going to single-handedly throw away everything you've ever worked toward, every conviction you've ever gotten. Tell me, Detective. Is hurting me really worth throwing away your entire career?"

Fin loosened his grasp considerably, but he didn't budge an inch. "I'm not going to stand by and do nothing while you protect your brother," he answered coldly.

"I'm not protecting anyone, and I sure as hell don't want to see your entire unit fall apart because of a case from more than twenty years ago," Tucker shot back. "If you think that more violence is going to help anything, you go right ahead and shoot me. But I can guarantee you it's not going to change a damn thing."

Fin felt the sting behind his words seeping in slowly, absolving every bit of the betrayal he wasn't quite ready to let go. He swallowed hard. "It might make me feel better."

"If you think it's going to make you feel better, you go right ahead and try it. Or better yet, ask your colleagues how effective their efforts have been. Ask your captain if going back to the bottle has made him feel better. Ask your partner if sleeping with his ex-wife again really made Olivia's statement any easier to handle. Ask Elliot if drugging Olivia made him feel any less guilty. Ask Monique Jeffries why she hasn't told anyone over at VICE about this case and stopped showing up for work over a week ago."

Tucker took a deep breath. "Hell, ask Casey at what point during this investigation the DA's office pulled her off of every other case because she couldn't hold herself together. Ask Melinda Warner if she regrets the fact that they sent her home after working a week straight with no sleep just to have some inexperienced lab assistant screw up one of the only concrete pieces of evidence you had. Ask George Huang at what point during this case he had to start scheduling visits with a shrink of his own. You people are so screwed up right now that if it weren't for the fact that I just witnessed her have a complete meltdown in the squad room the other day, I would say Olivia's the only one left still holding it together."

Fin's arms dropped to his side dejectedly. "What are you talking about?" The tremor in his voice did little to mask the astonishment he refused to acknowledge. For the first time, he really looked into Tucker's eyes. He saw within them what each of them had been desperate to keep hidden. Instead of the usual smirk of satisfaction, they were filled with an unsettling pain that shocked him as much as the words that had just tumbled from his lips.

The truth behind Tucker's words came crashing down--a truth that none of them had been able to acknowledge, but that all of a sudden seemed clear as day. Jesus, how the hell had they missed it?

How the hell had they overlooked the fact that Cragen stopped pushing them to keep going and started sending them home at night? Why hadn't any of them questioned the locked door and closed blinds that had once been left open? And what did it mean when this case managed to accomplish what even the death of his wife had merely shaken?

Look tell the captain…I need a break. I'll be back tomorrow morning.

Munch's words reverberated through his head. The truth behind them was suddenly painfully clear--as clear as the tears that his dark glasses somehow still hadn't quite concealed, but that Fin had managed to pretend never existed. The man was consistent as all hell. His partner did not cry. His partner did not waver. His partner did not drive three hours to Baltimore for a booty call with his ex-wife. Right? He needed to believe that. He needed to believe that there was something consistent he could count on, but the truth had been right there in front of him. His partner had cried. His partner had wavered. And his partner had disappeared that night and not come back as promised the following morning. Shit.

The pieces began to slowly fall into place in his head…the fireworks in the locker room between Elliot and Olivia, Jeffries' constant presence in the squad room, Casey's unexpected trip to Huang's office and the way she had brushed him off when he had caught her on the way out the door, the call from the morgue that there had been a mix-up at the lab… hell, even the fact that Huang no longer came by to offer any assistance with the case.

The realization brought on utter panic. "What are you going to do?"

Tucker's eyes were still glued to the gun in Fin's hand. "That depends. Are you going to put away your gun?"

Fin's eyes flew down to his hand. Jesus Christ. He had just pulled a gun on Edward Tucker from the Internal Affairs Bureau. What the hell was he doing here? It wouldn't matter if Tucker dissolved the unit because he wouldn't have a job to go back to after tonight. Hell, he might not even be able to go back home after tonight. How long did they put you away for menacing in the first degree?

As if reading his mind, Tucker cleared his throat. "Fin, I'm not here to bust you, but put the damn gun away before someone gets hurt."

Fin didn't know how his body managed to somehow comply when his brain was still spinning, but he suddenly realized the gun was no longer in his hand. And hell must have really frozen over because Edward Tucker wasn't whipping him around and putting bracelets on his wrists. In fact, Edward Tucker had a look on his face that was actually sympathetic. Fin didn't even know it was possible to put those two words together.

"You really didn't know?" Tucker's words were incredulous.

Fin shook his head. "No, I didn't. Why the hell hasn't the Chief of D's suspended all of us? "

Tucker dropped his eyes to the ground. "The Chief of D's doesn't know anything about it." He cleared his throat. "I haven't told anyone."

Fin's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why the hell not? Isn't that the equivalent of a get out of jail free card for your brother?"

Tucker blew out the breath he had been holding. "Yeah, probably, but that's not the reason I joined this unit. He finally looked up at Fin, and for the first time, Fin realized that Edward Tucker actually had tears in his eyes. "I joined IAB to keep bad cops like my father off the street," he admitted softly. "And as much as you may be falling apart right now, there isn't a unit I trust more in the entire NYPD. I sure as hell don't want to be the one to break that up."