A/N Thank you for the favourite, orangepurplesvu, it means a lot when anyone goes beyond reading, to validate my efforts in anyway.

Intala; Your words mean so much. This is my first attempt at a story I'm not trying to fit in between show facts. I'm a bit scared. With this one I've taken the show facts as a starting point and jumped headlong into the unknown...I nearly deleted it in the early hours of the morning, so I hope you understand what your words mean to me. I hope it is still believably, the characters we love from the show, but I am unbelievably glad that you care so much for them. Thank you for making such a kind review my first on this story.

Please let me know what you think?

This chapter is inspired, in particular, by a line from 'Red Rain' by Peter Gabriel.

'I come to you defenses down,

With the trust of a child'

"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...Lowell Harris is dead..."

There are no more words. I sit on the still warm concrete, as it possessively clings to the sun's heat, even as the orange ball dips below the buildings for another day, and evening softly, starts to fall.

Fin drops down beside me, his arm winding around my shoulders loosely, and I drop my head to rest on his broad shoulder. I can't help but reflect on how much of this incident he has carried on those shoulders, for all this time.

The all-encompassing emptiness that threatened me earlier, has snuck up on me unseen, and taken me for its own.

I struggle to conjure up the familiar image of his face, the official picture from his file; a smiling, uniformed, man, the monster still safely masked. But I cannot find that image, all I can see is a disheveled, wild-eyed, bleeding monster, dragging a baton along a fence. As with Harris, I can't find the image of the handsome, charming man that so many saw in Lewis. I can only find the grotesquely scarred, dead eyed, demon, spitting venom at me, his eyes lighting up, only, as I scream in pain.

The faces that have haunted so many nightmares have left no room for any variations.

I try to imagine how he may have changed in the last seven years in prison.

I wonder did he come to realize what he did to me, to Risa, to Ashley, to all those other women?

I know that realization, even if it did come, may not have had the result I hoped for. I can't forget how Lewis knew what he had done to me. How he understood, better than I did at that time, the effect he had on me, on my life. I can't help but remember how he took a sick perverse pleasure in it, and how much he enjoyed telling me about it.

How, as he took me from the car to Amelia, in the granary, on our last day, his last day,... he knew when he touched me, I was having a flashback. He told me PTSD was real. He knew that I woke up in my own bed, covered in a cold sweat, thinking he was in the room with a gun to my head. He tried to tell me how it is nothing to be ashamed of, how all 'his girls' go through it, how he was 'an agent of change'. He told me he altered the trajectory of people's lives, they might have hopes and dreams before they run into him, but then life as they know it is gone. He knew how getting out of a car, opening a door, or hearing a sound makes me think of him. I tried to deny it, I told him he was wrong. I denied that I have dreams about him. He knew that I had nobody in my life; that Brian had to be gone. He asked did I find it hard to trust after what we went through, that there's a tendency to isolate, to withdraw, how he hoped I was seeing a therapist. He asked me to promise I would, he told me how my therapist probably sat there with me, telling me I'm working through it, how I can be whole again, but he's lying, what he does, nobody ever recovers from.

I know that I will never forget these words. They are seared into my memory. The unconscionable, hideous, calculating, cruelty of his carefully chosen remarks, struck much deeper than any of his physical actions that day, at my shattered spirit.

I have held that detail inside me, unable to share it, with anyone, not therapist or friend, until recently. When, again, the unintended words spilled out to Rafael. I could see him struggle to understand. I could feel his pain, as he somehow soothed mine. How his gentle words confirmed the horror that words could, in fact, hurt more than sticks and stones, and fire and fists. That burned, torn flesh heals quicker and with less scarring than such agony.

I know how most victims will keep at least one secret, something that is too personal, too hard to admit, too difficult to put into words and I know that this is my secret from my second time with Lewis.

My hand finds its way to the gold pendant hanging around my neck, I grasp it tightly, amazed how it helps me find a way through the jumbled mess of my thoughts.

"Fin, why did you never tell anyone, even when things got bad?" I ask turning to look at him.

"It wasn't my story to tell."

"But it is Fin. I didn't know, all these years, but we've both struggled to leave Sealview behind us..."

He frowns as he considers this. "No Liv. I've felt guilty I wasn't there for you, I've been disgusted by what he did and what he was about to do...but it's not the same...It was your decision, because it was your experience."

"What if we hadn't got him for Ashley's rape?"

He shrugs. "We both know that reporting doesn't guarantee anything. We know better than anyone how unjust the justice system can be. I would have supported you, no matter what. And I know what it took for you to bring that 'evidence' to light. You know, that even though it may never have been said out loud, everyone knew there was only one way you could have known Ashley's description of a mole was accurate?"

The tears start to fall again, as I nod. "Melinda wouldn't let it go, she asked out straight."

He nods his approval, tucking me further into his embrace.

"I knew that Cragen figured it out the minute he read my reports. El asked plenty of times, but didn't push..."

Fin chuckles at this. "He may not have pushed you, but he went nuts. I think more than a few lockers, and even walls, earned new dings when he figured it out. He wanted to kill me...for not having your back."

He straightens up, his face turning serious, "We only cared about you. Nobody judged your decision. Once you were safe and getting whatever help you needed, we were there for you."

"Liv, the only thing that worries me is..." he seems to just forget he was talking, and I can see his thoughts are far away. Whatever he is seeing is causing him pain, his jaw is clenched and his eyes, though closed, can't hide the tears gathering.

"...whatever you hid, after Lewis..." his voice is so soft, I can barely hear him, as he squeezes his eyes tighter, not wanting to inadvertently see my secrets play across my face.

"I don't need to know your secrets, Baby Girl, just tell me you got all the help you needed..."

I bury my head against his chest. I can't breathe. I'm sure that he knows that it wasn't justified self-defence, when I beat Lewis in the beach house. I remember his disgust that Lewis was still alive, and his reassurance "You did what you had to do...".

I don't know how much detail Fin heard about what happened. I know he is incredibly perceptive, how he can read between the lines to find truth, and his question un-nerves me. I don't know what he is referring to and I'm too afraid to ask him.

I just nod, trying very hard to swallow the lump that has almost blocked my throat. He rubs my back gently, no doubt trying to comfort me, but it feels like the circles he is rubbing on my back, are stirring my nerves into my already queasy stomach. I sit forward a little, pulling the end into the zip, closing the sweatshirt I had wrapped around my body, hoping he doesn't see my ulterior motive in the movement.

He looks at me carefully. "You getting cold?..."

I just shrug, my eyes cast down, in the hopes he can't see my fear and guilt.

"Barba must be having a fit by now." I can't help my head snapping up at the odd statement.

"He poked his head out a while ago..." He answers my silent question, gesturing over at the door.

Now I am completely confused. Why would Barba be here so late in the day, we had no plans to go over any cases, and no new case had demanded his presence? Why would he come up here looking for me? This is not somewhere I have been since El left me...

I can see him looking at my confusion, in mild amusement. Now I start to get irritated and flash him a look that tells him not to mess with me.

He raises his hands a little, in apology, as he recognizes I really am confused.

"My guess would be that the Counselor put a query on Harris' file, and he heard the news..."

My mouth falls open at his statement. How could he know Rafael knew about Harris?

"I told him, at one point, that you'd been through more than he could know,... he wasn't curious..." He shrugs as if it had been obvious.

"You know he cares about you Liv? He wouldn't be able to not know everything he could about the guy who had hurt you..."

I'm floored again by Fin's ability to completely read a situation. I know now, that Rafael must have heard the news of his death, and had come straight across to break it to me, not wanting me to hear it without some support. Again my hand finds its way to the necklace I never take off.

"He's a good guy Liv."

This somehow feels like a sign of approval. It inexplicably panics me, and I try to explain, "Fin, he's a friend, there's nothing going on..."

He raises his hands in surrender, "Ok Liv, don't shoot..." he smiles widely at me.

I chuckle at his speedy back-down, softly punching his arm.

"C'mon lets get in, before you do get cold!" He gently pulls me to my feet, leading me to the door. He stops and turns around, "I'm always here...if you ever need to talk...". He opens the door and steps back for me to head down the stairs first.

As I re-enter the squad room, I can see how long I have been gone, in the changed faces, the moved furniture, in the ceiling lights and lamps now illuminating the room.

Amanda's head rises from her desk as I walk past; she just nods at me, subtly checking I am ok. I return a tight smile, and she drops her head down again, but not before I see her brow furrow as she wonders what precipitated my flight. I can't help but smile again, as I realize that only her partner's presence had stopped her storming after me.

Carisi is muttering at his computer, scratching his head, at whatever he is working on.

I turn my attention to my office to see the familiar, slicked back hair sitting in his usual seat.

I know he is there for me, I don't want to call him Barba or Counselor, but anything else would be unusual in work, so I say nothing as I slip into my office quietly, closing the door behind me.

He leaps to his feet as he sees me walking into the office, his arms start to raise towards me and he quickly pulls them down, clasping his hands behind his back, gesturing to the empty couch with his eyes, following me over.

"Liv, I'm so sorry..." a hand runs through his hair while its twin snakes across the couch to mine, clasping it tightly, his thumb lightly stroking my fingers.

"You put some sort of notification on his file?" My question is quiet, my voice dead.

He nods, his green eyes searching to see if he needs to prepare a defense.

Any other day, I would be livid at both him and Fin. I would remind them how I was perfectly capable of looking after myself. But today's news has softened my view. I understand they don't wish to undermine me, their attempt to protect me is not because they think I can't do it myself, it's because they care. They want to spare me any hurt they can.

"Thank you Rafael"

His eyes widen in unexpected, amazement. He quickly tries to hide his astonishment, as he fiddles with buttons, slowly opening his soft, grey vest. Then I can see worry fill his features, as he recognizes how uncharacteristic my easy, acceptance of help, is.

"How are you Liv?"

I have no answer. I'm not trying to hide my feelings, to pretend I'm fine when I'm not. I just don't know how to answer.

'And I can't watch any more

No more denial

It's so hard to lay down in all of this'

He seems to understand as he studies my blank face.

"Can I take you home?"

I don't even nod, I just stand up and start gathering my things. This time he doesn't show any surprise, he nods, and gathers his stuff.

'I come to you defenses down

With the trust of a child'

As we walk out of the squad room, I see that my team has left. I'm sure they only waited to see I was ok, and Fin hurriedly sent them home before anyone could ask difficult questions.

As I step into the elevator, all of a sudden, I feel the weight of the day's events pressing down on me. When the doors slide closed I allow the hand Rafael has placed in the small of my back to help support me for a moment, leaning into him.

'Putting the pressure on much harder now

To return again and again'

As I sit into his car, he throws his briefcase and jacket carelessly into the back, sliding into the drivers seat beside me, his hand reaching for mine.

I look into his concern filled eyes.

"He's dead, Rafael. Harris is dead. He can't hurt me anymore."

He nods sadly, knowing that this fact brings more upset than comfort.

"Lowell Harris can't hurt anyone anymore, Liv."