A/N thelisa17; As always thank you so much. I really appreciate that you take the time to review. When I started I planned to stay completely within the show but as the end of the season approaches and therefore my boundaries disappear, I will have to stray slightly. I'm not sure, yet, how mad I will go... I'm very open to suggestions, I just don't think I can write sex. I cannot begin to tell you how much I agree with you about Cassidy. I have spent so much time wondering about this...I think they were both so traumatised, I can't see how it would work. This last chapter was re-written so many times, I think I have 4 full versions, which is not like me. I struggled so much with it which is also why I appreciate the review. My first instinct, was heading slightly in the direction of Liv confirming that nothing did happen after Lewis between her and Cassidy. I haven't completely discarded the idea, it just was too soon I think...thank you for making me feel less freaky for this thought.

Please let me know what you think?

This trial is agony.

It seems like the parallels for my battered squad are endless.

When he started to accuse her Sergeant, a man who has made it clear he is not my biggest fan, of raping Nadia and precipitating her flight to New York, I thought I would vomit.

This is day three of my personal hell, and my patience is already long exhausted.

Day one had consisted of a conference with Liv and the Chicago Sergeant, Voight, who seemed to take every question as a personal slight. I understood his personal stake, I couldn't even begin to fathom how he felt, to be sitting in my office, over a polished, New York conference table discussing one of his team's horrific kidnapping, rape and murder, but I had to leave my compassion for his suffering outside. My only way to honor his slain colleague, was to get the best justice I could. I understood that this involved hard questions, but the man's disdain for me was crystal clear. We agreed, after much heated arguing, that our best case, our best chance of jailing this monster, was that of Nadia,... but I knew how hard this would be.

The first day of trial, immediately snapped me out of any thoughts of this being an easy win, when Yates opted to represent himself, his attorney staying on as his co-counsel at the judge's insistence. Immediately Lewis' trial flooded back. Yet another similarity in a case already too chocked full of parallels. If I felt Lewis' ghostly presence in this trial, I can only imagine how Liv felt...…

The courtroom was packed with the SVU squad, police officers supporting their Chicago brothers with their presence, and of course Halstead, Lyndsay and Voight from her own team, as Doctor Warner testified. Every glance at my squad, at her Chicago team smashed home the reality of their agony at hearing her suffering reduced to a laundry list of injuries and photographs.

Every new sordid detail intensifying their already, immense, pain.

When Yates stood up and asked if "those wounds of the vagina and rectum were the kind of things you might see in the body of an active prostitute?", even I couldn't control my look of unrestrained hatred. I felt the collective flinch of her colleagues, as his words forged a new scar into their souls.

Detective Lyndsay's testimony was compelling, heartbreaking, but ultimately forgotten, as Yates forced her into Nadia's past. Her unconnected past pulled into the trial; almost becoming it's centerpiece, rather than her violent rape and murder. His smug arrogance grated terribly on me, as he forced Nadia's best friend to recount her history with drugs and prostitution. I tried to un-do some of the damage of his inflammatory story of a failed 'rescue project', but the jury were not privy to what we knew. I knew this was starting to go badly, and again Lewis' spectre reared its ugly head.

A short recess did little for me, as I was accosted by Voight. I understood his helplessness, as he accused me of 'letting' Yates 'get away with smearing Nadia like that?". I probably didn't help by reminding him that whilst we all knew Yates was a murderer and a rapist, 'the jury isn't privy to what we know, they all see the same charming man whose smile lured dozens of women to their deaths".

I know I was so intent on protecting Liv, it may have seemed like I didn't care, like I didn't even have time to talk to her grieving colleagues, her family.

I know they heard me tell her, 'Liv, we need to prep, this is gonna be hard on you'. They can't know all that lies behind that statement. They just saw an attorney more interested in his case than his victim.

Liv's testimony, again, probably didn't win us any points with the jury, despite the forensic evidence she was able to testify to, when Yates alluded to her collusion with the Chicago PD in clearing the brother of one of its officers of suspicion.

Again, I find myself remembering Lewis. I refuse to let this be a repeat of Lewis.

This is where I find myself now, struggling, despite my sustained objection, to listen to this psychopath tell the jury how he got in the car with Nadia because he 'believed Sergeant Voight was raping her'.

I can barely control my anger, my face telegraphing my feelings, my clenched fist doing nothing to relieve my pain and fury.

I can't imagine turning to face the rage I can feel resonating from the man who sits behind me, accused by this monster, of this excruciating horror.

I also can't imagine turning to face Rollins, this animal somehow cheapening her experience, by using his own concocted version to divert suspicion from his vicious rape and murder.

I object as much as I legally can, but even to me, it feels truly worthless.

I can feel the disappointment searing into the back of my head, even as I try to highlight the absurdity of his version of events.

That a woman would get into a car to drive half way across the country, with the man she knew was her department's main suspect in a series of rape murders, was nothing short of ludicrous, but it was not winning the jury over.

My rising despair is averted at the very last moment by his insistence on describing her supposed abuse by her Sergeant. His apparent arousal at these details, gives me an opening, a way in….

Rollins and Benson greet me as I exit the courtroom but their reassurance is unnecessary, as I confidently announce that the jury has not seen the real Greg Yates, 'but they will…..'.

I recall Doctor Warner, peppering her with relatively inane questions. It must be torture for her team, listening to me getting Melinda to confirm 'she was assaulted in both places by the same man' and that 'both penetrations occurred around the same time'. I silently beg for Nadia's forgiveness as I continue this charade, spreading post mortem photos of her, her injuries, across my desk.

I don't understand when my trust in one person became enough to gamble a whole case on a silent communication with that one person, but I feign a grand standing look to the gallery, leaving the photos tipped towards Yates. Not willing to risk him feeling my eyes on him, I look to Liv, silently asking her to confirm Yates' unwavering interest in the pictures. She gently, almost imperceptibly answers my barely there eye flick to Yates, with a nod, yes.

I hope my teasing gamble will pay off as I sit down. My heart is thudding as he and his attorney argue about his desire for a cross…

I start to dare to hope, as he overrules her and asks to examine the photos conveniently in front of him on my desk.

The slight quiver in his hands, the gently tracing finger, his dilating pupils all add to my ratcheting hope…..but it's not enough. I need him to completely unmask himself.

As Melinda answers his question she unwittingly lends fuel to the fire of his perversion, "she was savaged….".

"Savaged, you say, how so?".

I can see him reacting to the horrible details. His enjoyment at the disgusting images being painted by Melinda's testimony, increasing with each disturbing detail. I try not to envisage the agony on the faces of her team, in the gallery behind me, preferring to focus on the win that gets closer and closer with each of his sickening questions…

When the consternation becomes evident on Melinda's face, the judge interrupts, offering to 'entertain objection' if I have one.

I can't quite fully suppress my feelings as I answer "I'm fine your Honor." A tiny smile ghosts my face for a second.

The judge looks shocked and confused.

I can feel Melinda Warner's eyes scorching into me with every disgusting fact he asks her to confirm, her confusion in my apparent uncaring, inaction all too clear in her features. I hope she, too, will forgive me when she understands...

With every question he asks, his sick, perverse, true self becomes clearer.

The increasing uncomfortable feelings of all observers, finally giving way to horrific understanding, as he finally unmasks himself completely, with his demands to know "Would the terror, the fear have flooded her with adrenalin? Would she have awareness of what was going on? Would she understand that these were the final moments of her life?". A perverse, sick, satisfied smile lighting up his face at his last question.

His error clear now, even to him, he seats himself as the jury continue to squirm, looking uncomfortably, from him, to me, to the Judge, unsure how to process what they have just witnessed.

I don't even consider gloating, my joy at his unveiling, dissolving instantly. I know the agony I have caused her family as they had to sit and listen to this, I can only hope they will forgive me. Nadia's battered face stares lifelessly back at me from one of the photographs that led him to his own destruction.

Again, I'm reminded how every win with SVU is so tightly and bitterly intertwined with heartbreaking loss.

This time as the jury delivers its verdicts, the excruciating doubt is less than with Lewis. I'm confident that after his display, the jury has seen his true nature but I still find myself holding my breath…

"On the charge of Rape and Sodomy in the first degree, we the jury find the defendant, Gregory Yates, GUILTY.

On the charge of Murder in the first degree, we the jury find the defendant GUILTY."

I can feel the collective, relieved, outpouring of breath as each verdict is read.

It's not joy, it's relief, that Nadia has seen justice. There is no joy, only agonizing loss, grief at the passing of a friend, a colleague, an innocent victim.

I turn and find Voight holding his hand out to shake mine. I can see he couldn't speak if he wanted to, but he gives me a gentle nod. I understand any issues we may have had, have all been nullified or settled by this verdict. The incredible depth of his pain, plays all too clearly on his craggy face.

Detective Lyndsay also shakes my hand mouthing the words 'Thank you'.

All I can see though is Liv. She tilts her head softly to one side, all the emotion flashing across her face makes it impossible to read any single one. She turns quickly and is gone before anyone has a chance to say anything.

The rest of the SVU squad file out, together, with their Chicago brothers nestled safely amongst them.

I try not to panic as I pack my belongings into my briefcase, but her agony filled eyes haunt my every move.

I feel that, even in this win, I have somehow failed her.

I step out into the hallway, fear crushing my heart as I see the squad and their Chicago counterparts, huddled together, making plans to go toast the verdict in Nadia's memory. Liv is nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps unsurprisingly it is Fin who strolls over to me, his hand outstretched.

"Congratulations Counselor."

I nod as civilly as I can but the win is hollow, empty.

"Liv left. She just seemed... overwhelmed. It's been so hard for her..." his candor and instinctive understanding shock me. His stare penetrates right through me.

I try to shake myself out of the shocked stupor his approach has thrown me into. I gulp, nodding my understanding. I begin to pull my coat on as his hand grasps my arm.

"She has been through more than you can know..." my mind flashes back to her telling me how he saved her from Harris all those years ago.

Something about my face or posture must have given away my thoughts, he raises an eyebrow quizzically, "...or maybe not..."

I silently meet his eyes, a deep understanding passes between us.

"Liv hates to need help. She needs someone to be there for her now..."

My gratitude to this tough, prickly, man is almost overwhelming. I quickly drop my eyes for fear he will see the tears gathering there. I nod curtly. He pulls his hand from my arm, "We'll be at Murphy's Bar tonight, tell her we expect to see her."

With that he turns and walks back to the huddle of thankful police officers comforted by a just verdict.

My feet carry me unthinking to her door.

I can't even say how I got here, as my hand softly raps on the door.

Silence answers my gently knocking as I start to doubt my instincts. I reach for my phone, querying where else she would have gone, hitting her speed-dial tentatively.

I jump slightly as her phone rings shrilly on the other side of the door. I hang up, tapping lightly on the door again. "Liv, it's Rafael..." I start, immediately unsure how to continue, but I hear the locks start to click, the chain rattling slightly, as the door swings open. The door is barely open before she turns her back to me, heading to the couch, pulling her legs up as she curls herself into a ball.

I close the door carefully, "Liv...".

Her head raises slightly, her distress immediately evident, tears streaking her pale face.

"Liv..." I repeat unconsciously, stepping towards her, my throat almost closing as I try to swallow the agony bursting out of my chest.

She raises a hand to stop my arms from wrapping around her. I slide down onto the couch beside her instead, too troubled by her distress to even register any feelings at her rejection.

"What is it, Liv?" I hear a voice, similar to mine, but cloaked in emotion, ask her.

"Oh Rafael,..." she starts quietly, "I'm so glad really...you got him...you got her justice..."

Her hand reaches out to me and I gratefully grasp it between mine.

"I don't know why I'm..." she sobs and her confusion at her own state is clear.

"It's ok Liv. It's ok. Just tell me what you're feeling. The fleeting little emotions that seem unconnected...tell me."

She nods gently, her other hand gently wiping her tears.

"I feel glad,...sick...she's still gone, nothing will change that...horrified at what she suffered, listening to the words being said out loud, somehow, make it more real...worried for Lyndsay and Voight..." the more she voices her feelings the easier it becomes, "...relieved he can't do this again...sorry her past was thrown out there for everyone to judge...pain..." she doesn't seem to know how to explain her pain.

"What else Liv...all of it?" I prompt gently.

Silence answers me. She looks deep in thought. The tears start to fall faster as a tiny voice whispers...

"Envy...Resentment...Distrust...Betrayal...pain...actual pain...physical pain..."

"Where hurts Liv?" I prompt again, my voice barely audible with the depth of my own feelings.

She puts her hand in the center of her chest, "here..." she mouths.

I squeeze the hand I hold, tightly. I know I need to keep gently pushing but it hurts...

"Tell me about the envy, the resentment, the distrust, the betrayal..." I plead softly.

"I'm glad for her, she didn't deserve any of this, no one could ever deserve any of this, the jury saw her suffering, they had to convict..."

"But..., Liv" I steel myself for what is coming.

"I wanted the same. I'm envious. I'm envious of a raped and murdered woman?"

I can see her disgust in herself, in what she is saying...

"No Liv, you are not envious of her, you are envious of her justice, her verdict...her validation..." I feel a huge guilt land on my shoulders. I refuse to allow it though, this is about her, I know she doesn't blame me, and I won't allow my guilt to impede this. She needs to let this out. I somehow find calmness and allow it to swallow me. I gently tip her chin up until her wet eyes meet mine.

"You resent the jury who didn't believe you?..."

She nods

"You distrust the system?"

Again her head dips guiltily in agreement.

"You feel betrayed by what you have worked your whole life for?"

"I feel betrayed by so much...by the system, by my mouth, that didn't make my testimony believable enough, ...by my body, for letting him surprise me in my apartment, for not letting me fight him off,...nobody knew I was missing, not my boyfriend, not my squad...nobody... I feel rage."

Her words hurt but I understand them.

"Liv, it's ok. They all make sense. You aren't angry at anyone, you are angry at the situation?"

"No Rafael, I am. I'm so angry...at him, ...at Lewis...and at Yates, at Harris, at Patten... sometimes they all seem like sides of the one person..."

I swallow deeply, somehow surprised but also comforted by her rage.

"They are in some ways, Liv. Different faces of evil..."

She nods her agreement.

"I feel betrayed by my squad, the department, but they didn't betray me, they did more than anyone could possibly expect, to get me back...and Brian, he was devastated by what happened, he couldn't get over the guilt...How can I feel betrayed by them?"

I can see the seeming contradiction, but in my mind it's so clear, I'm almost surprised she can't see how it makes perfect sense.

"Liv, you don't blame your squad, the department, Brian...you blame yourself...you feel betrayed by yourself for being angry at the situation that meant you were gone so long before anyone realized, ...you're worried that they didn't really care, but they did, they do care, but even the worry is enough to make you feel betrayed... "

She collapses into herself as she tries to nod. I pull her to me, rocking gently as she sobs.

"I really don't blame anyone but Lewis...and myself. In my head I know it's wrong but I can't stop it. I don't think its really blaming myself, I think it's just wishing, desperately wishing I had done something different, anything different, anything to change what happened...But I couldn't, I didn't really control it, so I couldn't change it..."

I feel like the worst man in the world for putting her through all this but Fin's words echo in my head, 'Liv hates to need help', and I know that no matter how cruel it may seem, I'm helping her.

"No Liv, he had a gun, a knife, you were drugged, starved, drunk...you had no control..."

"But it wasn't just him, ...Harris...there's something wrong with me..."

I can barely listen to her agony filled admission.

"No Liv. There's nothing wrong with you. They were predators. Tell me, tell yourself, what you would tell anyone who said something similar to you when they were assaulted for a second time..."

She sits in silence, broken only by sniffles and sobs...

"Liv, I mean it, say the words..."

"I would tell them..."

"No Liv, tell yourself..."

"It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong. The only fault lies with them. You didn't deserve this and it shouldn't have happened...not to you not to anyone..." she looks at me, almost surprised at her own words to herself.

"Liv, It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong. The only fault lies with them, with Lewis, with Harris . You didn't deserve this and it shouldn't have happened...not to you not to anyone..." I repeat her words back at her, insanely grateful that my prosecutorial training has taught me to repeat recently uttered words back with little effort. I know she needs to hear them again.

"They assaulted you. You did nothing wrong. You didn't deserve this and it shouldn't have happened. Lewis assaulted you. Harris assaulted you. You bear no guilt in this."

She breathes deeply, appearing to savor every word individually.

Again her tiny voice croaks through the silence, "I really could have ended up like Nadia..."

I can't even nod at her assertion preferring to gather her tighter into my arms, silently thanking whatever god saved her from this fate.

We sit there, like this, unmoving until the room starts to darken, as the sun glides across the sky towards its nightly withdrawal.

I selfishly want to stay as we are, but I know how important it is for her to participate in the planned wake for Nadia.

"Liv..." I gently rouse her "You need to get ready. The squad will be waiting for you."

She looks at me questioningly.

"They're meeting to toast the verdict, to toast Nadia's life...Murphy's Bar..."

She nods. I can see the hurt in her eyes. I know it will be hard but I also know it's necessary, for her, for all of them. I also know she will be safe with them. They can give her something I can't, a shared experience, both good and bad, and shared remembrance of Nadia when she was filled with life, before it was cut short.

"You all need to be there for each other." I finish gently.

"It has to have been horrible for them all" she whispers, "For Lyndsay and Voight to have to sit there and imagine those things being done to their friend, their colleague...The guys were devastated too, and they're not great at letting out their feelings..." I raise an eyebrow at her, "Don't give me that look, Counselor, I'm getting better at it..." she smiles.

"I don't want to think how hard it was for Amanda to hear the false accusations he directed at Voight..."

She is all 'Bad-ass-Benson' now.

"You should come" she offers, "We have you to thank for Yates being locked up. You should be there."

I shake my head decisively. She furrows her brow but knows that my decision is made.

"If it's Hank, he just needed someone to battle, to get through it...you would be very welcome..."

I chuckle lightly, "I know, I knew what he was doing, I may have even partaken in the concept a little myself" I acknowledge with a smile.

I know I would be very welcome. I know nobody would question my right to be there, but they all lived their end of the experience together, she was alive, there was hope. My experience was removed, more solitary, shrouded completely in her death. I need to process it all, in my own way, alone.

She purses her lips, considering, "Ok Rafael, you know where we are if you change your mind. Your really would be welcome. I'm here if you need me..."

"You took the words out of my mouth, Liv, I'm here if you need me..."