A/N: Sorry it took so long for the update! I'm taking two AP tests in a couple weeks, so I'm kind of obsessed with studying at the moment.

Everything seems to be connected with my father in some way. I've often caught myself wondering if that is good or bad (if one could ever truly define those terms) and how my life would be different if he hadn't committed suicide. Maybe I wouldn't be a police officer. Maybe my brother wouldn't work in a funeral home. Maybe my whole family wouldn't be so fucked up. Who knows? But no matter what it is I refer to in my past, whether from childhood or last week, in some way I'm sure I could connect it to my father. Kind of like the six degrees to Kevin Bacon or whatever the hell that thing is.

My point is that even without him around, he had affected my life in as deep a way as I can think of. I always knew that a person's suicide not only affected them but those around them, I just never realized how much.

There are also times I wonder what would happen if my father had lived and I hadn't become a police officer. What would the lives of those victims and their families be like? What detective would have handled their case? Would they have lived where they had once died?

I called Elliot in the car and gave him the three names. These guys... Piechocki wasn't too bad, but Lyden had two kids. Two kids he might be molesting. Thank God he wasn't a teacher, but his wife ran a daycare out of their house and he had some job that allowed him to work at home. That meant constant contact with those kids. And Eisenberger was a doctor. He was dating his receptionist who had a seven-year old boy. Gym teacher, doctor, father. People that kids are supposed to be able to trust. What made things worse was that Brigham didn't know what kind of doctor Eisenberger was, just a doctor. He could be a pediatrician for all we knew.

When I got up to the squad room, Olivia was already there and Cragen had returned from Joann's apartment. By the lack of Fin, I assumed he was still there. My first instinct was to ask how she was holding up under these new circumstances, but I tried my best to shake the thought from my head as there was work to be done.

"We got anything on these guys?" I asked Elliot.

"Only priors they have is a parking ticket or two. Lyden was arrested for aggravated assault, but that was fifteen years ago. He was never brought to court on it either, the other guy dropped the charges."

"What kind of doctor is Eisenberger?"

"Uh..." Elliot glanced down at some notes. "Dermatologist."

"Kids go to the dermatologist, right?" Olivia asked.

"We need to ask for his patient list then. What's his home address?"

Before Elliot could answer, what I assumed to be the cryptographer came out of the room next to Cragen's office. "I got it!"

I turned, as did half the people in the squad room. "What's it say?"

"'Robbie and Zack are very safe. I've made sure they can't escape. Wasn't Kyle so helpful? Really, he doesn't know anything. Good luck,'" he read from a sheet of paper. "It was a simple code. He just substituted one letter for another, very similar to the cryptoquote you find in the newspaper."

"We need to talk to Brigham's pervert friends. Now."

Elliot handed me a Post-It note with Eisenberger's address scrawled on it. "I'll come with you," he volunteered.

"Liv, you wanna take Piechocki or Lyden?"

"Piechocki. I'll swing by Joann's and pick up Fin."

"Rosen!" I shouted over the noise.

A hand rose as he struggled through the throng of detectives and officers. "What's up?"

"Take McElroy and talk to Charlie Lyden." I handed him another Post-It note with an address on it. "We need to know where he was Sunday, if he's acting differently, anything like that. Ask him what he knows about Brigham, too."

"Got it." He disappeared back into the mass of people. Elliot, Olivia and I walked down together, Olivia getting into her own car and going in the opposite direction. I tossed the keys at Elliot and we were off.

I was surprised to find that Eisenberger lived in an apartment not too much larger than mine. I became angry when I realized the sick bastard lived four blocks from me. I could have run into him countless times. Hell, I might have passed him watching the kids playing in the nearby park, thinking, if I even noticed him, that he was simply a father watching his kids play.

"I've never met these boys. Only heard about them on the news. Why?"

"Your name came up in our investigation," Elliot answered while I strove to see through walls in search of Robert and Zack. "May we come in?"

"Sure." He opened the door wider and we stepped inside. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thanks, we're good."

He gestured towards the couch. "Please."

"Dr. Eisenberger, do you know a Kyle Brigham?"

"The name sounds familiar."

"You met in a bowling alley with Brigham and two other men. Gregg Piechocki and Charlie Lyden."

The doctor's jaw clenched and it was a moment before he responded. "I met them, yes."

"And Kyle told you that he worked at PS 114, correct?" Elliot asked, glancing at me while doing so. I wasn't about to apologize for jumping the gun. I was looking for two little boys. Whatever he and the rest of the squad were doing...

"Yes, he's a gym teacher there."

"Do you like little boys, doctor?" I asked, earning a full out glare this time, not only from Elliot but from Eisenberger.

"I'll have you know that I have a girlfriend who has a seven-year old son that I would never even think of harming."

"Dr. Eisenberger, there are many men who have girlfriends or even wives and molest children. The thought that you might be one of those men is not that far fetched. In fact, there are plenty of men who sexually abuse their own children."

He stood up suddenly. "Get out of my home." His finger pointed to the door. "I will not have you coming in here accusing me of... of touching little boys and kidnapping them. If you want to talk to me again, you'll speak with my lawyer first."

Once we were in the hallway, Elliot grabbed my arm and stopped me. "What the hell, John?"

I turned to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We had this guy sitting there answering general questions and then you smack him upside the head by telling him he's met Piechocki and Lyden. And then you ask him if he likes little boys? What the hell happened to taking it slow so they don't pull up the shields?"

"Look, I'm just trying to find Joann's boys. I don't know what the fuck you're doing, but I'm getting information."

"No, you're not! What information did we get from him? Hmm? Nothing. We got jack shit because you're too goddamn close to this case."

"Yeah, I am."

He faltered for a moment. "If you know it, take yourself off."

"Because that's what you do, right?"

His eyes hardened and I knew I had hit a nerve.

"Shove off, Stabler and mind your own fucking business." I walked away. "Let's go talk to the girlfriend."

Patricia Weiss lived two blocks over so I didn't bother stopping at the car. Elliot was somewhere behind me, no doubt still fuming at my comment. He'd catch up. By the time I was knocking on Patricia's door, Elliot was beside me and had calmed himself down enough to conduct an interview with a cool head. We were invited inside. Apparently, Eisenberger hadn't thought that we would go to his girlfriend's apartment after speaking with him.

"My son and I were just watching a movie."

"Oh really? What movie?" I asked the boy, kneeling in front of him.

"Shrek."

"My nephew loves that movie. His name is Ben, what's yours?" I dimly heard Elliot leading Patricia into the kitchen to talk with her.

"Anthony."

"All right, Anthony. I need to ask you some questions. Okay?" He nodded his head. "Do you know Dr. Eisenberger?"

"Yeah, him and my mom are friends."

I smiled. "Yes, they are. Are you ever alone with Dr. Eisenberger?"

"Sometimes. Mom goes out sometimes and he watches me. But I don't need a baby sitter." He crossed his arms, what he imagined to be a tough face in place.

"I need you to answer as truthfully as possible on this one, all right, Anthony?"

"Okay."

"Did he ever touch you?"

"Mommy doesn't always come back before I go to bed and he tucks me in. He kisses my head."

"Does he ever touch you anywhere else? Anyplace that you don't like?"

He didn't say anything but pulled back into the couch.

"It's okay, Anthony. I promise. You can tell me. It'll be a secret."

His eyes were scared and I wondered how many molested children we would find in this case.

"Why don't you point to where he touched you?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't wanna talk no more."

I reached for his small hand, but he retracted it as soon as I brushed his skin. "Anthony," I whispered, "I promise he can't hurt you anymore. All you have to do is tell me where he touched you."

His eyes opened and he looked at my, wary. "My private parts. And... my butt."

I forced a smile and nodded. "Anywhere else?"

He shook his head and then the tears started to come. That drew his mother and she came in, picking him up and holding him to her as he wrapped his small arms around her and cried into her neck. "You can leave now."

And we left, not saying another word.

Despite gaining conscientious objector status, I always wondered what I would have done if I hadn't. If I hadn't and I had been drafted and sent to Vietnam. Memories of my father come into play again when I think of this because I always imagine that he would not be happy with me for being a conscientious objector. I can't recall him ever saying much in the way of politics, but there was always this deep sense of pride for his country. There was always a flag flying from our house, something that continued long after he had died. That was one thing my father started that my mother never turned away after he died.

I wonder if we would have fought, my father and I. I had plenty of friends who fought with their fathers to the point where they needed a place to stay some nights because their fathers had kicked them out.

I wonder if instead of fighting with him, I would have heeded not only his word but his belief and enlisted. I wonder if instead of fighting with him, I would have fought the enemy and died in Vietnam.