I own no one but my own people.

Shout out to my favorite red headed Irishman who fell for a brunette American. Love ya' forever, boyle!

Again, this is FO, not EO.

Elliot knocked on Olivia's door, taking a deep breath.

"Come in," he heard from inside, and it pained him to hear her voice like that, weak and defeated, not the strong, sure of herself voice he had heard for that past eleven years.

He slowly walked in, not even able to fake a smile on his face. He had seen her injuries, but now that she was awake, they seemed all the more pronounced.

"Elliot," she said, joy erupting in her voice, and Elliot hated himself that much more.

This time he forced himself to smile at her, hiding the tears in his voice. "How you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she told him and Elliot could see right past the lie.

"She never wanted me to see her weak," he reminded himself as he took a seat by her bedside.

Elliot sighed before taking her bruised hand in his. "I told Fin I knew about th, the pregnancy before he did."

Olivia's good eye widened in fear. "Was he mad?"

Elliot shook his head, this time it was his turn to lie. "No. He said he understood why you hid it."

"Thank you. I don't think I could have done it. Told him that you knew before he did. Of course, this probably wasn't the best way for him to find out either."

Tears gathered in her eyes and Elliots heart broke for the woman sitting before him.

"I didn't get to hold him," she whispered. "He didn't even get to be held by someone who loved him before he died. I killed him, Elliot. I killed my son."

"No! Olivia, this was not your fault!" Elliot cried, desperate for her to believe him.

"If I never pushed, I would have killed myself and he would have lived. That's what should have happened, that's how it should have been."

"You weren't the one who shot him, Olivia. You can't blame yourself for what happened. If you had died before him, those monsters would have found another way to kill him. There was nothing that would have saved him."

"I could have given him a chance!" she cried. She gasped in pain and clutched her bandaged and broken ribs.

"Are you okay?" Elliot asked once more, expecting the same answer as before.

But this time, Olivia shook her head, tears building in her eyes. "It hurts," she whispered, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from screaming, all embarrassment of him seeing her weak forgotten.

"I'll get the doctor," he said, getting up from the chair.

"No!" Olivia cried, clutching his hand as hard as she could for support. "Don't leave me!"

Elliot quickly sat back down, holding her hand as tight as before. "I won't leave,"

"You can't, ever! Promise me you'll never leave me!"

Elliot looked at her in slight concern.

Olivia seemed to sense his confusion. She sighed and released his hand.

"There's something I have to tell you," she said looking up at him. "Elliot... after I gave birth, they forced me to give my son a name. I thought of you while I was down there, and I named him after you, and you need to know why. I guess, because I always know you would be there for me, that you would never leave me, that you would always be apart of me. I knew deep down they would never let my son live, so I named him after the person I knew would never leave me."

"Wha, what about Fin?" Elliot asked, his voice weak with emotion.

Olivia shook her head. "I don't deserve Fin, and he shouldn't have to stay with me. I killed his son, Elliot, what man would want to stay with a woman who did that? And I can't blame him at all if he was to walk in with divorce papers right now. I even support the idea."

"Fin loves you, Liv. He knows what happened is not your fault."

"It is though. I knew what was going to happen and I still pushed. A part of me hoped that they would have killed me as well so that I could be with him, so that Fin wouldn't have to live with a woman who helped murder his son."

A shudder ran through Elliot, and he had to bite his lip from screaming. This was Olivia; the strong, determined, fearless woman who had told countless victims the important thing was they survived, to be grateful they were alive. Now here she was, talking about how she had hoped to die with little remorse or regret. He made a small note to himself to get her checked out by a shrink while she was here, maybe get her moved to the mental ward where they could keep an eye out on here, make sure she didn't-

"No!" he screamed the voice inside his mind. "She would never do that to herself!" But the doctors earlier words flooded back to him.

"She also said," the doctor interrupted, a saddened look on his face. "That she didn't care about living anymore."

Elliot couldn't stand it. She had wanted to name her son after someone she trusted would never leave her, who would always be with her, who had no plans of leaving her.

She had to know the truth, had to know everything Elliot had done to her and Fin, that he was the one responsible, that he was the one who had gotten their son killed.

"Olivia," he said, his voice shaking, "I need to tell you something. The fire at my house, when Tina was spending the night-"

"Yeah," Olivia interrupted, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I never actually thanked you for getting Tina out of there, or for saving Fin. You're a hero, Elliot; you rescued the two things I love most in this life, and I can never thank you enough for that."

Elliot could see the pain in her eyes as she reached over and embraced him, holding her head on his shoulder, he could hear the pained breaths she let out.

Elliot closed his eyes in defeat as he barley wrapped his arms around her, tears in his eyes.

"You never have to thank me for that, Olivia," he managed to choke out, tears running down his face. "Ever."

The two partners pulled away and Elliot stood up and turned away from her, unable to look at her bruised and broken face a moment longer, knowing her had caused it.

"I gotta go," he said, not being able to hide the sob in his voice. "I have to go write out my report."

"Will you come back?" she asked, her voice barley above a whisper.

Elliot had half a mind to tell her no, that she was better off never seeing him again. But instead, he spoke the words that would cause her immense happiness and him unimaginable sadness. "Of course."

"You're a fucking liar!" Joseph shouted at Huang sat in the chair opposite him. "You bomb our military ports, you threaten us with nuclear war heads, you killed millions of innocent troops, and you're saying you want to help me? Get the hell out of here, you no good chink!"

"Actually," Huang said as calm as ever, the mans words stinging him, but he refused to let it show. "I'm Chinese. It's the Japanese who bombed the harbor, the North Koreans who threatened us with nuclear bombs, and Vietnamese who killed the troops."

"Jap, China man, Korean, you're all the fucking same!" he yelled, and Huang still sat motionless.

"Is that what you and your brother were taught as children?"

Joseph scoffed before he shook his head. "Me and my brother were taught the right thing. Unlike you. How many babies has your wife killed because you're only allowed one?"

"The Chinese don't do that anymore, and I'm actually not married."

"What? Your parents didn't have a cow big enough to trade for a wife?"

"Tell me about your parents," Huang asked, grabbing the moment. "Did they believe in intolerance as well, or did you pick up all this hate on your own?"

"Why the hell are you so interested in my life?"

"I'm a psychologist. I want to help you."

Joseph nodded and cocked his head to the side. "So how many whites do you think got denied to go to school because they had to let in minorities?"

"Is that what happened to you?"

Joseph shook his head in disbelief. "I can not believe you. You don't even care that a much more worthier white was denied entrance to your school because they had to let you in! Why don't you do everyone a favor and go back to your rice fields!"

Huang stayed silent for a moment, forcing himself to remain composed, not to give anything away. He may be a brilliant man, but his skin was not as thick as others.

"Tell me about your schooling experience."

"We didn't go to public school. Our mother home schooled us. Mother didn't want all the teachers and politically correct liberals screwing with our heads, making it seem like our race, who has done so much more then any other race, be the bad guys. Do you know that less then ten percent of white men owned slaves in the 1800s? And less then one percent of that ten percent actually treated them like the left winged media portrays all slave owners? Yet you ask any little white child, they'll tell you that all southern farms were like that!"

"You said your mother didn't want you to go to public school." Huang said, ignoring the outburst. "What about your father? Did he agree with your mothers beliefs?"

"My father used to be like the rest of this disgusting country," he spat in disgust. "Used to believe there was good in everyone, that just because someone's skin color was different, they were the same as us. My mother believed it too, taught me and Adam the same, that the only difference between the races was skin deep.

One day, my father was taking us home late from the park, and we see a group of niggers around a busted up car. My dad got out to help them, ya know. See what was wrong with their car, ask if he could call a toe truck, offer a jump, just wanted to be nice to them. You wanna know what thanks my dad got for helping them out? They pushed him down and started beating him, and kicking him. They took out their knives and started cutting him. One reached down and grabbed his wallet and they ran off, leaving my dad dying on the street. I was four, and Adam was six."

"That must have been very traumatic for the both of you," Huang said, trying his hardest to sound sympathetic to the man who had destroyed two of his friends lives. "What happened to them?"

"They arrested them. During the trial they all said that my dad was acting racist, saying that he called one of them a black bastard when they were beating him, that they had beat and cut them in self defense...They were all found not guilty. So from then on, my mother saw the truth. That whites are the only people capable of love and compassion, and she was sick and tired of pretending that other races had it in them to be like us. She started taking us to the Church of St. Christine. It preaches that Whites were put her on earth to service God and Christ, and all others are descendants of evil. Niggers, kikes, chinks... all enemies of the white man, and must be taken down."

"Did you adapt well to their teachings, or did you fight your mother?"

"We couldn't go against her," he muttered.

"Why not?"

"She'd hit us," he said casually with a shrug. "Call us cowards, betrayers of god, that we were going to hell for going against our maker. When I was seven, my mother brought us to the playground, and some little Jungle Bunny whore used the devils magic on me. We started playing together, and when it was time for us to go, the little nigger kissed me on the cheek, the devil tempting me to sin. My mother saw everything."

"What happened to you?" Huang asked, hating himself for feeling sympathy for the two boys.

"We got home, and she started beating me. Took her rosary and strangled me with it. When I came too, she said that if I even looked at another non white again, she'd cut off my... you know."

Huang swallowed the bile in his throat and forced himself to continue. "Was that the only time your mother ever hit you?"

"No," Joseph said, shaking his head. "She'd hit us for even going into the Hip Hop section in the store, not wearing a belt, talking to any one of color, even walking close to a faggot, questioning our priest at all... There's too many times to remember, in all honesty."

"Did she do the same to Adam?"

"Adam got it worse then I did. He was more into the Christian religion then mine and our mothers. For a while, he told us that Jesus preached love instead of hate, not understanding that Christ taught we should love our own races and fight against all others. It took him longer to learn not to fight our mother then I did. Once he was caught listening to some rap tape in his room. Mother smashed him over the head with his tape player. When we got home from the hospital, she locked him in his room for three weeks with little food. He learned fast after that."

Huang looked at him in absolute shock. "Joseph... your mother beat and abused you and your brother. How could you not turn away from her?"

"Because what she taught us was true and real. The white men are in danger from people like you, Fin, and that little race traitor whore, Olivia. Our mother may have been rough with us, but she never lied."

Huang did or said nothing as he stood up and walked out of the interview room, the security guard from Rikers passing him.

"How in the name of hell can you say that the insanity plea is legit?" Cragen shouted at Huang, who stood his ground in the intimidating captains presence.

"They were emotionally and physically abused to believe in hate, and if they even stared a hair off the path of hate their mother made for them they were beaten and tortured for it. Their mother was unbelievably cruel to them.

"What they did to Olivia and Fin is unbelievably cruel!"

"Captain, they were taught they had to believe in hate, that if they didn't and went against Gods wishes to fight the other races, then they would go to hell. For two complete devouts, that's a very, very serious threat."

"Doing all those things to innocent people; raping and killing all those people isn't going against Gods wishes?"

Huang shrugged, "Christianity preaches that Jesus taught love and acceptance, yet they hate homosexuals. Religion is very complicated."

"I know my bible never said, 'thou shall murder a five minute old child in front of his mother', or 'thou shall not rape an torture an innocent woman.' "

"I'm sorry, Captain. But in my professional opinion, they're not responsible for their actions."

"They knew what they were doing was wrong, and they knew they had a choice. Rape or don't rape, kill or don't kill. It's very clear cut here!"

"You were never raised like that, Don. You have no idea what beating and abuse can do to someone. I truly, honestly believe they deserve to go to a mental hospital instead of prison."

"So they get off scott free?" Serenas voice interrupted from the door way.

Both Huang and Cragen turned to her, and Cragen looked at her in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Miss, who are you?"

She took a step into the office, her light blue eyes narrowed in anger. "Serena Benson, Olivias mother. I came here to see if there was anything I could do. I'm not exactly wanted at the hospital right at the moment," she muttered before turning back to them. "But there is no way you are going to let my daughters rapists get off with no jail time. You can't! She doesn't deserve that! Not after all she has ben through already!"

"Trust me, Miss. Benson, I will personally guarantee they will serve the maximum penalty," Cragen said, looking over at Huang, daring him to contradict him.

Huang sighed before he too turned to Serena, keeping silent.

Serena nodded in content before she sat down in the chair. "I'm sorry. It's just after seeing her in that hospital, and knowing she could have easily died without me apologizing to her for everything me and our family has done to her... it terrified me. I know she has told you much of her childhood with me, growing up with a drunk. I know that an apology won't fix everything between us, but the least I can do for my daughter is make sure the men who are responsible for hurting her is put behind bars for the rest of their lives."

Serena wiped her eyes and shook her head in disgust. "Forgive me, I'm whining."

Cragens heart tore for the woman sitting in front of him. He knew exactly how she felt. To be responsible for hurting someone you cared about because of one more glass of wine, or one more can of beer.

"I promise you, Serena." He spoke softly. "I won't let those men get away with what they did to her."

Serena smiled at him before she spoke softly. "Thank you, Captain Cragen."

Cragen smiled back before they heard a knock at the door.

"What's going on?" asked Munch, stepping in the small room, a large bruise forming on his jaw.

Cragen turned to Munch, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "I thought you were supposed to be at the hospital."

I had to get out of there," Munch muttered looking down at he ground, and Cragen could see his bloodied knuckles.

"What happened with Elliot?"

"Fin didn't tell her," he spat. "Thinks that it'll make Olivia happier if it's hidden from her."

Cragen sighed and nodded. "I hate to admit it but he's right. Those two are best friends, and Olivia needs all the support she can get right now. We don't want something like this to get out now."

"So no one is going to tell Olivia her best friend is responsible?" Serena asked, biter anger in her voice. "She deserves to know!"

"Who are you?" Munch asked in confusion, "and better yet, why were you at the hospital at Fin?"

"John, this is Serena Benson, Olivia's mother."

Munch looked over his glasses at her. "Really? Fin has told me so much about you, Miss. Benson."

She stiffened up and strode over to him. "What exactly has he been saying about me?"

"Nothing I would ever want to repeat in front of a lady. Of course theres not one in the room right now, so..."

"How dare you!" she gasped in anger and shock, pulling her faux fur coat tighter, muttering in angry Russian.

Munch chuckled. "Come on, Miss. Benson. Old bitter bastard isn't exactly original. For someone of your caliber, I expected better of you."

Serenas face fell and she took a step back. "You speak it?"

"I should, seeing as how my parents grew up in Russia. Mintz to be exact."

"Moscow. I lived there most of my life there. I came to the states when I was about eighteen, went back home when Olivia was twenty and got back several years ago," she said, letting a hint of a smile shine through for the detective.

"Fin told me," Munch said, a hint of caution in his voice. "He told me all about your history. As a jew, I gotta say-"

"Say no more," she whispered, her head hung in shame. "You have every right to be mad at me and my family for what we did."

Munch looked at her in confusion. "Who said I was mad at you? I was going to say, as a Jew, I'm glad that you stood up to your family like that. Not many others would have during that time."

Serena looked up from the floor, her light blue eyes widening in happiness. "Truly?"

"Truly," Munch answered with a rare, but honest smile.

Cragen looked between the two before clearing his throat loudly.

Serena blushed and turned away from Munch, who simply continued to look at her.

"John, we got a problem," Cragen continued. "Huang says the insanity defense may work."

Munch turned away from Serena to look at Huang, all traces of happiness gone. "What? You can't be serious! They killed Fins child, they kidnaped him, they-"

"I know but, John, you don't know the whole story. What their mother did to them-"

"gave them no right to commit those crimes!" Munch shouted. "Or do you not care about that?"

Huang groaned once more, hating the fact that none of the detectives grasped the fact that he worked for them, that he was just telling them the facts. He didn't like it, nor did he agree with it, but those were the facts.

"She beat and abused them, threatened them, threatened their immortal soul if they didn't hate."

"Yet it's fine and dandy for their soul if they rape and murder innocent people?"

"That's what they were taught to believe. But I'm telling you, they're not responsible. If anything, their mother is the one responsible for the rape and murders."

Serena let out a snicker, and all three men stared at her.

"Why do Americans always believe they're not responsible for anything they do?" she asked with a humorless chuckle. "They blame TV, movies, their parents... they do not have any idea what the true influence is like. So their mother hit them a bit. That's nothing, a lot of children get abused."

She avoided the faces of everyone in there, and instead concentrated on the clock behind Cragens desk. "And don't go around raping and killing. Some actually end up extraordinary good people. But that doesn't change the fact that they still saw everyday that its wrong to hate. Surly almost everyone telling them it's wrong to hate had to have had some kind of impact on them."

Munch's eyes widened before he smiled once more. "Miss. Benson, you're a genus!"

He turned back to Cragen, the smile growing. "Call Casey, Captain. Tell her we just got our star rebuttal witness!"

Serena looked at him in confusion, before her own eyes widened as well.

"No!" she snapped, anger seething in her every word. "Detective. Munch, I refuse to reveal that in open court! And how dare you even think that I will talk about it without even asking me first!"

Cragen looked between Munch and Serena, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Munch, what are you talking about?"

"Miss. Benson here knows more about influence more then anyone will in that courtroom! All she has to do is-"

"No!" she shouted once more. "I will not hurt my daughter like that! I've already done enough damage! How do you think she's going to react when she found out that I've kept this from her all these years?"

"What do you think she'll hate more? Finding out a secret about her family, or watching the men who killed her child, your grand child, be put in psych home for a few months when they lie and say their better, and they're free to rape and kill again!"

"How dare you put that kind of pressure on me!"

"It's for your daughter."

"They can find another way to get them!"

Munch looked at her in absolute shock. "I guess Fin was right. You never loved Olivia. No wonder she hates you!"

A loud slap erupted in the small room, and Munch stepped away from her his hand on his stinging face, Serenas hand raised, her eyes narrowed in anger.

"I've had a lot of practice with that, detective!" she cried. "I have no problem doing it again!"

Tears appeared into Serenas light blue eyes, but with a quick motion she wiped them and stormed out of the office, Munch looking after her.

"No wonder Olivia is scared of her," Cragen muttered. "She looks like she packs a hell of a slap."

Munch rubbed his face before he too stormed out of the room.

"Are you as confused as I am?" Cragen asked Huang, who nodded in agreement.

"Leave me alone, Detective," Serena groaned as she looked down over the rail, inhaling a long drag on a cigarette, the ice cold night wind whipping around her, hearing the door open.

"There's no smoking. You gotta leave the building totally to do that," Munch informed her, walking up to her and standing next to her.

Serena chuckled before flicking the ashes and inhaling once more, still looking down at the ground. "Olivia always hated it. No wonder she decided to work in a place where it's illegal to smoke."

She sighed and blew the vile smoke away from her. "Once when Olivia was six. She saw a thing in school that smoking can kill you, lead to dieses, all that crap they throw at children in American schools. She came home and tried to tell me I was going to die, that she loved me and wanted me to be safe. So she took my pack, I had about three left in there, nearly stale, and she broke them in half." Serena inhaled the stick once more. "I nearly broke her arm."

Munch stayed silent as Serena took a final drag on it before she flicked it down on the street below.

"Another time when she was fifteen, I came home from the bar, and she was with her boyfriend. They weren't having sex, or even making out. They were just on the couch watching a movie. I threw him out, screamed at her that she was a whore, a slut, that she was nothing, that he was just using her. I threw some glass ornament at her, she ducked and ran to her room and locked the door. I broke the door down and..."

Serenas eyes filled with tears. She didn't bother to wipe them away. "I put her in the hospital for three weeks."

Munch was silent for a moment. He knew Olivias mother had been a drunk, but Fin or Olivia never told him about the abuse, never told him Olivia had been put in the hospital because of her.

He took a deep breath before he spoke. "Miss. Benson... Olivia needs you now. You may have been a bad mother before, but now is your chance to make it right. You can help put away who have hurt and scarred your daughter more then you ever had."

"She'll hate me. Even more then she does now. She'll never speak to me again."

"Then you will be all the better mother. It'll hurt, and I'm not saying that she won't be angry with you. But she'll forgive you when she realizes the sacrifice you made for her. If she doesn't, then that's her loss."

Serena looked at him in confusion. "Why are you being so kind to me when you know mine and my families past?"

"Miss. Benson, any woman who is willing to have her daughter potentially hate her in order to save her is fine in my book."

Serena chuckled and Munch couldn't help but smile at her. "So, do you have to be getting home soon or-"

Serena shook her head. "No. I planned to stay all day with Olivia in the hospital, but..."

Munch nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I know. Well since you don't have any plans, and I don't have any plans. You wanna go get something to drink?"

"That's very kind of you, Sargent. Munch," Serena said with a grin, a tiny blush on her pale cheeks. "But I don't drink anymore. Eight weeks and four days sober."

"Who said anything about liquor? You wanna go grab a coffee, maybe some dinner?"

Serenas smile grew, and the blush burned hotter in her cheeks. "Sure, Sargent. Munch. I would love to."

"Call me John," he corrected, looking over her glasses at her.

Serena chuckled, and ran a hand over her smooth bun, the look on her face changing from shy to flirty. "Only if you call me Serena."

Don't judge me! Even old people need loving sometimes! Review please!