A/N Thanks for the follows and favourite. It means a lot to me. I don't want to be cheeky but I'd love to hear what you think? This is inspired in part by the lyrics of "Don't give up" by Peter Gabriel.
"Fin, how did he die?"
My body flinches and tenses as I hear my own question, bracing itself for his answer.
He looks down, his head turning slightly away from me, his jaw tensing as he bites down hard, trying to fight away some sort of emotion. He clamps his eyes tightly shut. It is all too apparent now, how badly the news has affected him and I feel real guilt.
His eyes flick to me as he softly clears his throat.
"There hasn't been an autopsy yet, but it looks like he just had a heart attack..."
I nod at him.
I know I'm disappointed. It sounds callous, but I wanted him to suffer somehow. To know some of the terror he caused others. It feels like it was too easy.
"I don't have any details yet, it only happened..."
His voice trails off, and again I can see him fighting off some emotion.
"Fin,...I don't know how I feel...How should I feel?...I'm glad he's gone...I wish, it maybe, hadn't been so easy for him?..."
He nods and I realize one of the emotions he is fighting is anger.
"He should have died screaming, I wish I'd have killed him when I had the chance..."
This is not the first time I've heard Fin say these words, I heard him say the same about Johnny D and Lewis. Somehow though, now, those same words surprise me.
"Why?..." I barely whisper.
He shrugs, a non-committal, 'why not?' kind of answer.
But as he looks at me, he understands I need more.
"Liv, he was so close to..." He looks at me carefully, his eyes narrowing as he weighs up how much he should say, "...he would have raped you...I have no doubt...all that stopped him before I got there was that you fought him so hard...when he had you cuffed to that door...there was nothing left to stop him..."
I just nod at him, trying not to go back there, not to see it, not to feel it.
"Liv, I was your backup! While I was standing waiting to get tested, waiting for the nurse to get more needles, you were fighting him...on your own..."
His eyes drop again, but not before I could see the guilt and upset in them.
"Fin it wasn't your fault. You got there. You saved me."
He shakes his head sadly. "No Liv, you saved yourself! As always, you saved yourself."
His tone is bitter, biting, filled with disgust at himself and self loathing.
"I could easily have been too late..." he murmurs.
I understand, in that moment, that we should have talked years ago. That I wasn't the only one who had struggled to leave Sealview behind me, that we needed to talk this through.
"Fin. I didn't think you would be able to find me. I didn't expect you to save me. When you weren't there when Parker cuffed me, I knew you couldn't get away, you had a cover to maintain, same as I did. When Harris took me away to the hole, I was so relieved; I thought Parker was the problem. When Parker had me pushed over the table, I was starting to panic, so when Harris took me instead, I was so reassured that I was ok... I couldn't have found my way to that basement again. I didn't pay any heed to how we got there. I lost focus. Harris had seemed so human, I didn't feel threatened by him. By the time, I understood I was in trouble, I knew you wouldn't be able to help me. We didn't suspect Harris and I had no idea where I was. When you burst in and told him to let me go, I was beyond grateful but I was shocked. I didn't expect help. I knew when I went in there, I would be on my own... You feel you somehow let me down or failed me. I feel you went so far above and beyond for me, you found me, you saved me."
He is looking at me as I speak, carefully listening to every word until I tell him how he feels he let me down and his head drops down in shamed confirmation.
When I tell him I feel the exact opposite he just shakes his head. Refusing to accept my words.
"Fin, I had screamed for help, I had fought,...I had lost...I didn't scream for help anymore, because I knew there was no way you could possibly help me...I screamed no, I screamed at him to let me go...when you came in I thought it wasn't possible, I thought I was imagining you..."
Now it's me who has their eyes pulled tightly closed as I remember the terror, his hands pulling my head towards him...the tears breaking through as I feel the memory of mind-boggling relief, how it was so implausibly farfetched that Fin had somehow found me, that I didn't allow myself to believe it.
As the tears flow down my cheeks, I can't help but remember how so many of the worst nights were saved only by the thought that he had been there for me.
Maybe it was the song I heard earlier but I remember a night when it felt like I had nothing left and the radio reminded me I did. The song played becoming an instant favorite with a meaning I could never hope to explain to anyone. A song that still now has immense power every time I hear it. I summon it forward in my head, hearing its familiar lyrics play in my head...
I know I need to somehow communicate what this song means for me, for him to really understand...
"Fin, we should have talked about this so long ago...When the PTSD got bad, there were so many nights... knowing how hard you fought to find me, to save me, gave me a reason to go on..."
I mentally hit play on the song that has been one of the most played on every device capable of playing music, that I have had in those intervening years. As I hear its familiar chords play in my head, its comfort is so powerful that even its remembrance calms me.
'I was taught to fight, taught to win
I never thought I could fail
No fight left or so it seems
I am a man whose dreams have all deserted
I've changed my face, I've changed my name
But no-one wants you when you lose'
I use the lyrics I know so well to help me. Those words that could have been written for me in that situation, helping me to find my own words, timidly explaining how I felt during those sleepless nights...
"Fin, I was a cop, I could handle myself, I never thought I could be overpowered like that, in a fair one-on-one fight... I had no hope... I was resigning myself to what losing meant...what Harris would do to me... and how my failure would cost me my job and my friends."
'Don't give up
'cos you have friends
Don't give up
You're not beaten yet
Don't give up
I know you can make it good'
"Even when I was giving up, my friends weren't giving up on me, you didn't give up on me. Fin, you found me. You saved me. You had my back."
'Though I saw it all around
Never thought that I could be affected'
"I knew that no-one is immune, anyone can fall victim, but somehow no matter how well I knew this, I just never really believed it could be me. I never thought it would be me..."
'Don't give up
'cause somewhere there's a place
Where we belong
Rest your head
You worry too much
It's going to be alright
When times get rough
You can fall back on us
Don't give up
Please don't give up
Don't give up
'cause you have friends
Don't give up
You're not the only one
Don't give up
No reason to be ashamed
Don't give up
You still have us
Don't give up now
We're proud of who you are
Don't give up
You know it's never been easy'
"I know I shouldn't but I felt ashamed...all those feelings we try to convince victims are misplaced, I felt them...but I couldn't give up, I couldn't let you, all of you, down..."
So many nights I had sobbed myself to sleep listening to these words, over and over. Especially as the PTSD started to really bite, these words were a reminder, a reason to keep going when I wasn't sure there was one. I can't explain, I hope he understands how I feel.
I can see that he is dropping his guard, letting me see the tears in his eyes. He takes a few breaths calming himself, before he speaks.
"Liv, it wasn't a fair fight...he had a baton, you were handcuffed... I hate that you felt ashamed, you had no reason to be ashamed... I still can't quite believe how you fought him off..."
He unknowingly mirrors the words of the song, reaching in and hugging me tightly.
"How did you hear, Fin?"
"A contact of Stabler's works corrections...Stabler put me in touch with him soon after he was imprisoned..."
I flinch at his mention of El's name, immediately curious to know has he heard from him, been in touch with him all this time?
"I haven't heard from Stabler. If he tried to contact me, I'd gladly knock him out for how he carried on..." He quickly adds, knowing how his comment must have made me wonder.
"He asked me a couple of times what happened, Liv. Did you ever tell him?"
I shake my head quickly.
"Why not Liv?"
"I don't know, I tried to tell myself it was to protect him, or to protect myself from the fit he would have thrown" I roll my eyes, remembering a classic Stabler fit, his face turning bright red, his jaw clenching, his hands curling themselves into tight fists... "but I think it just would have made it too real. I was ashamed I let Harris get the drop on me,... that I couldn't have saved myself,...that I didn't report it..."
He purses his lips together, as he considers what I have just admitted.
"You still feel that way?"
I can't help the sinking feeling that greets his question. I want, with every fiber of my being to tell him no, I know it wasn't my fault, but I force myself to tell him the brutal truth. I nod once, a tiny dip of my head that would be almost imperceptible if I didn't have his full attention. My teeth gently hold my bottom lip, to stop it trembling, trying to hide my fear.
"Its not as strong anymore but...I feel weak...and then when Lewis..."
I just don't have any words. I'm not sure there are the words, in any language, to explain it. I can't even try...
My watery eyes reach up to his, pleading for some sort of help or escape...
He is no longer making any attempt to hide his feelings, his anguish clear in his tight set mouth, the tears dancing in his eyes as he silently makes it clear that I need to tell him, to tell myself...
"I can't Fin. I can't..."
My voice is soft, wavering. My pain, anguish and upset is more than clear in the short sentence. He lifts his head quickly, in a 'come on' type of gesture, his eyes never leaving mine. His hand reaches for mine, gripping it tightly, letting me know that he is not leaving, no matter what I say...
I close my eyes, powerless to halt the streams of tears, sighing deeply, struggling to keep the tiny control I have left...
"I feel like a fraud..."
I can see his surprise at these words as he tries to figure them out but he nods approvingly, silently telling me to continue.
"Harris and then Lewis...I was so unlucky...but yet...two proven, serial, rapists and they didn't...It doesn't feel like I have a right to feel like this...It feels like...Why all these years later is his name enough to strike such fear into me? Why does even the memory of his face make me want to melt into a puddle? He didn't even rape me?..."
I know he didn't mean for me to hear his sharp intake of breath, he just couldn't help it. I know I have said too much, I can't face him, I can't bear to see him confirm how ridiculous, how attention seeking I am.
I slide down to sit against the perimeter wall, its rough brick scraping my back. My legs pulling up, my head leaning down against my knees, as if my body was not capable of supporting itself without my pulled up knees and the wall.
"Liv...I'm so sorry..."
He has dropped to his knees in front of me, carefully recapturing my hand in his.
"Liv...I need you to look at me..."
I can hear tears in his voice and I hate myself even more. I close my eyes tightly, like a child who thinks that what they can no longer see, has somehow vanished from existence.
"Liv...please...I need you to look at me..."
I want nothing more than to run away, to not have this conversation, to not see his face. My legs won't allow me to run away and my pride demands that I salvage some sort of dignity, so I try to paint on a mask, and slowly raise my head, my eyes scanning the area before finally reluctantly coming to rest on his.
"Liv...I'm so sorry...I didn't know...I didn't realize...You've put on too good a front...all these years..."
I can see how hard he is battling to find words, his pain threatening to overpower him completely.
"Its fine Fin. It's stupid. I haven't even thought about it in years..." I scramble to back track, desperately hoping he can't see the lie in my words.
"Don't say that..." he growls at me.
"Liv, I know how hard it is for you to feel vulnerable, don't lie to me..."
His eyes are like lasers now, piercing my soul, his anger at my quick about-face diluted only with pain.
"I'm not going to insult you with the speech we give everyone who comes to us, you know every word, you believe it, you know it is the truth. Don't compare your pain to anyone else's. What you went through is no less because they didn't rape you. They both intended to...don't doubt that..."
I can't hold contact with his penetrating stare, my eyes dropping guiltily as he confirms what I know...
"Harris didn't rape you because you fought him off, you gave me long enough to find you, and then when he was about to, he couldn't...you knew what was about to happen, you were getting ready for it?"
I feel like a fool, but I cannot control the sniffling as my tears speed up, and the crying spreads from just my eyes to my whole body. My chest jumping sharply, at each sniffle, as his words echo through my brain, 'you were getting ready for it?'
"I didn't want him to...it just felt like it was going to happen...I couldn't stop the thoughts..."
"Oh Baby Girl. It's not an accusation, I just realised... I can't imagine the terror...how you must have felt...so when it didn't happen, instead of relief, you felt like a fraud?"
I still can't bear to look at him, I can hear and feel his tears, as they drip on the hand he has clasped to him. He seems to understand but...
"I felt relief...but..."
I can't even claim to have control over what I say at this point, I would love to say that I hope to explain myself so I don't seem so crazy, but the words choose themselves.
"...I nearly wish, sometimes,...I know I was lucky but maybe if he had...I would feel like I am entitled to feel like this..."
"Liv...I know you feel crazy for saying that,...but it makes sense."
I expected he would try and comfort me, maybe try to talk me out of it. I never expected this. My eyes meet his in surprise...
"Liv, I saw the state you were in, I didn't understand it fully then, but now...it makes sense. You didn't expect anyone was coming...you knew what was about to happen, you were out of options, all you could do was try to protect yourself in any way you could. You tried to prepare yourself. Mentally, you were already suffering it... It doesn't make what you suffered any less...it makes it worse, because you feel like this..."
I fall into him shaking, sobbing...
"I want him to be dead... I want him to have suffered...but I don't want my chance to fix it all, to be gone...I want to still have a chance to confront him...to show him that he didn't ruin me..."
"I know baby..." he mutters softly.
"It feels like nobody has to answer for what they've done to me...Lewis shot himself, he chose to die,... to escape,... he tried to frame me for it...he told me he wanted it to be the last thing I ever see...he wanted it to haunt me...but he never had to account for what he did...and now Harris...I knew he would never be called to legally account for what he did to me, that was my fault, I was too afraid...I was scared I would lose my job, my friends...I didn't want to be like my mother...but now he's gone...I really thought that eventually I could confront him...but I can't...I can't because Lowell Harris is dead..."