A/N I am so excited at the reviews, favourites and follows!

Intala; Thank you so much. I love your understanding of what I am trying to say, that is exactly what I wanted, that Liv and Barba figure out together what works... I couldn't have put it into words, but that is exactly what Barba is doing, he is stopping her from getting to her limits, to make sure she doesn't feel even more broken...thank you so much...he doesn't want her to hurt any more... I believe Brian was trying not to hurt her so badly, and to him they wouldn't have been scars they would have been wounds but it would still have made her feel worse...Thank you for the PM too, it meant a lot.

FicFriend; I'm not done...It means so much to know that you read everything. I really appreciate the message, I had wondered if I had lost you along the way...I'm so humbled that you enjoy my scribbles...what you have said has made me feel so validated not just for writing this down but for sharing some of my characters 'crazy' feelings...I never expected that a story could allow me to find such acceptance...Thank you.

MrsChilton; Again, as always, thank you. Your words always mean a lot.

This is based around 'Fragile' by Sting. The version I usually listen to isn't in english but whatever translation, I think the sense is the same...

'Lest we forget how fragile we are'

The bright summer sun, blazing in through my unclosed blinds had woken us early, and after a coffee, sipped as I leaned comfortably, back into Rafael's arms, he had headed home to shower and change.

I was already up and dressed when Lucy arrived, as promised, bright and early. And grateful for the early start, I headed to the precinct.

Now as I balance my second cup of coffee, with a new stack of files, I can't help but consider the news I heard, at this very desk, only a handful of hours ago.

In the bright daylight, with a night's sleep behind me, and having had time to absorb the news, how do I feel?

Again I'm surprised at my absence of feeling. The news that should either, have delighted or angered me, still has very little effect.

I'm struggling to not look at the clock every two minutes, somehow hoping that the starting time for my team's shift is no closer. I have always enjoyed Fin's, easy, company, but the silent pressure that I know we need to find a way to continue the conversation we have only started, is making me nervous about talking to him.

The certainty that I didn't disgust him, that he wasn't trying to extricate himself from our conversation, but that he was, instead, conscious of my discomfort, and how vulnerable I was, seems a lot less assured in daylight.

I understand that is further proof, if any were needed, that we need to talk, but I cannot help the fear that twists my insides at its prospect.

A last, quick, glance at the advancing clock reminds me that I have much more pressing concerns to attend to, as I try to focus on the mountains of paperwork threatening an avalanche on my desk, I refuse to maintain my clock watching vigil any longer.

As my workday begins, I throw myself headlong, into the piles of paper that await me, knowing, that any feelings hidden away at Harris' unexpected death will still be there when I finish.

The light, empty, coffee cup and large, pile of completed paperwork are my only way of gauging how long I have been here, when a gentle tap on my door, pulls my focus from the paper mountains.

"Mornin' Liv, busy?" he asks looking at the paperwork strewn all over every surface of my office.

I can't help the smile that answers him; he is trying to give me a way out if I don't want to talk. How can I have doubted him?

"The glamorous life of a cop..." I gesture wildly at the stacks of paper, laughing. "I'm ok, Fin...thanks" I quickly answer the question thinly veiled behind his morning greeting.

I look up at the clock to see he is 45 minutes early, gesturing him to a seat in front of my desk, I move around to join him.

As we sit into our chairs, I push myself to keep the promise I silently made, to be honest with him, to avoid a replay of last night's panic...

"Fin, I'm nervous...it's not that I'm worried about talking to you, I know I can always talk to you...I'm just nervous..."

He grins, slightly sadly, at me, "It's a difficult conversation..."

I know now that he understands my statement and he is not offended. To some degree, he is admitting to sharing my nerves. Again I'm reminded how this is pretty new territory for him too, and as Rafael, rightly pointed out, this is hard to talk about

"It's been bothering me since last night, but did I say something...?" I ask tentatively, jumping straight into the deep end.

He raises his eyebrow quizzically and I think, for a moment, he hasn't understood my unfinished question, until his head starts shaking softly...

"No Liv...not at all... I hate that you feel it was a fair fight between you and him, I hate that you feel...like that...I wish I could have done more..."

I understand exactly what he is saying, he is no longer talking about when he burst into the basement to save me, he is talking about all the things I desperately hid from him, from everyone...

"It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to you anymore Liv...I could feel it was getting too much...I'm here, there's no rush,... however long it takes..."

As always, he sees exactly what was worrying me, and hits it head-on, his words putting my fears completely to rest. He wasn't disgusted; he was trying to protect me.

"I can't imagine what this news has brought up for you. The last thing I want to do is put any more pressure on you, you don't have to tell me anything you are not comfortable with..."

And just like that the nervousness that had been plaguing me disappears. I'm really grateful to him as he eases my worries and deftly opens the conversation, with none of the awkwardness I had worried about.

"That's the strange thing, Fin, it really hasn't made any difference...I know there should be some big flood of emotion, anger, bitterness...I don't know what else. But aside from a little relief that none of the scenarios I'd imagined on his release, can ever happen...it doesn't change anything..."

He nods his understanding.

"Can I ask how you feel?" my question feels very personal but it's something I really want to know...

He frowns his brow deeply, "I don't want him to have escaped so easily...a heart attack?" he shakes his head bitterly, "I want him to have died screaming, in pain, in fear...I want to know he paid for what he did...It doesn't feel like he paid..."

"I feel the same, I suppose..." I try to put it into words... "he cheated it all, somehow, by dying...and how it happened...but I think after Lewis...how he...I suppose it just doesn't have as much power..."

I can see his jaw tense and his eyes flick down, as the memories of what he found that day, after he heard the gunshot ring out, flash through his mind

"Sick son-of-a-bitch..." he whispers under his breath.

"It's over but it never really ends..." I mutter.

I see his eyes raise up to mine, as he searches to understand my last comment.

I shrug slightly, searching for a way to explain, assuring him with a nod that I am trying to find words.

"It's like his death means it's over, the fear of him coming back, finding me, finishing what he meant to do...it's gone. He can't hurt me again...But all these years, he's been in prison, he hasn't been able to hurt me, he's been safely locked up...but he was still hurting me..."

He pauses for a moment as he considers...

"Nightmares?"

I nod, a little ashamed even though I understand it is a perfectly normal thing.

"Flashbacks?"

I shake my head, "Not flashbacks really, not for years, and not a lot of nightmares anymore, well...except for last night..."

I can see his sadness at my confirmation of what he probably already suspected.

"It's more...a kind of 'presence'...something that is always around in some way...after the therapy and some time...'things'...were more normal...but...there was always that...doubt...that fear...it's a bit like once I felt that fear, knowing what it was like, it changed me..."

I know that this doesn't explain it, he is considering what I am saying, trying to understand...

"It's so hard to explain, it's like sometimes, I'm not even thinking about Harris or Lewis, at all, they're not even in the mix...but...still they're there..."

I can see before he says anything, that he doesn't really understand, he can't find any trace of the feelings I'm trying to describe, inside himself, but he has been an SVU detective for long enough, he has heard from enough survivors, to know a little about what I am trying to describe.

"I know what you mean, I can only imagine...but I don't really understand...I suppose it's something, that I can't really understand..."

I am so grateful that he is opening up like this to me, I know it doesn't come naturally for either of us, so it means a lot to me.

"Fin, do you really understand that I don't blame you in any way? That you have no reason to feel guilty?"

He shrugs a little, "I guess that's still a work in progress..."

I smile broadly, "Trust me, a work in progress I understand..."

'If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one

Drying in the color of the evening sun

Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away

But something in our minds will always stay'

I gesture to the empty desks directly outside my office, "I'm going to have to tell them..."

He shrugs, "That's up to you Liv, I know they're worried about you but they would understand..."

I know that Amanda is only biding her time before she asks me what is going on.

I know I should really tell her what has happened... I could see last night that she was worried for me, but I know that explaining Harris' death to her, is not going to be easy. It will, unavoidably, remind her of her own situation, only a few months ago. I don't want to bear any responsibility, for her feeling more pain. I know that whilst this is a very true concern, it is not my only worry. I don't want to have to expose my own pain. It feels selfish, that after all the advice I gave her to talk about what had happened to her, after all my assurances of how much it helps, I'm afraid of being unmasked as a massive hypocrite, as I struggle to find my own words

It's not that I don't trust her, I do. I can't help smiling at how much better our relationship has gotten over the last while. We are now comfortable with each other in a way I never thought we would be. I've even talked a little, about Barba, with her.

Ok, so it was only because she noticed his attentions, but it was relaxed and easy. She seemed to understand that things are undefined for us. That I have a lot to work through before I can make any decisions about him...

Although, have I not just done exactly that?

I haven't really made any decisions and I definitely don't feel any pressure from him, but I did move things forward last night. I can't cling to the safety of us being 'just friends', anymore. But didn't that ship sail long ago, if I am completely honest? We've been kissing for quite a while now, and the way we hug, sitting cuddled, comfortably in each other's arms, our bodies wrapped tightly around each other, as we have become so used to doing, is not quite friend territory either.

I don't know whether it calms me to think that last night's make out session didn't actually change anything, or whether it scares me more to realize that the change happened quite a while ago, and I didn't notice it?

This feels ridiculous... I refuse to overthink it. I am going to just see what feels right. It seems to be working well for us, so far...

I'm not going to start the 'what-if' game or panicking about whether we should be doing this. I'm just going to enjoy his company.

I can't help the flush of red that creeps up my face, as I want to add his touch, and his kiss, to what I plan on enjoying.

Fin looks quizzically at me, having no idea where the flash of embarrassment came from.

My eyes drift back to the still empty desks outside...

"I have to tell Amanda, I can't keep that secret from her...after everything she went through with Patton...after everything I said..."

I struggle a bit, to keep my emotions at bay, shrugging... "And Carisi, he's as much a part of this team, I can't have him be the only one to not know..."

He knows that with this thought I have made my decision, and he nods, his approval and his unwavering support instantly clear.

As the news of my decision makes it way from my mouth to my brain, I feel a familiar knot form in my chest.

"I know how wrong it is, Fin...but I am so ashamed...of what happened...that I didn't report it..."

He quickly reaches across, taking my hand, "Liv, you have nothing to be ashamed off...you did nothing wrong..."

I shake off his words, "I know...I know how wrong it is...Harris is the one that should have felt ashamed...but the thought of having to tell them...I can't control the deep feeling of humiliation, shame..."

I see his forehead crease and his eyes close. I know he understands. He knows I feel even worse for feeling shame because I know I shouldn't...He knows that this is part of what makes a sexual assault so devastating, and I can see that he didn't want to ever see any of this in the people he cares about. I can't help but think that this is the second time, in the space of a few months he has found himself in a position like this, and my heart aches for him.

I rest my second hand on top of our clasped hands, rubbing his gently.

My teeth softly hold my bottom lip but the words slip out unhindered...

"I can't decide if I'm glad to be telling people, after all this time..."

"Do you regret not telling them...the captain, Munch...Stabler?" He softly asks me.

I sigh deeply, glad he asked the question but also terrified of my own answer.

"Sometimes..." I nod. "I've given it a lot of thought, over the years...I don't know why I didn't tell them...I can rationalize not reporting it, we got him anyway...I'm not sure I would have been let stay on in SVU, if I had disclosed...things were different then...but not telling them, I don't know."

He rubs his face, sitting back, giving me time and space to consider my decision.

"The captain...I just couldn't bear to see his face,...he was more than just my captain, always was...I knew it would hurt him...and I was scared he'd be disappointed in me somehow... I'd promised him I could handle myself, to convince him to let me go in, and then I couldn't..." I shrug slightly, hoping I'm making sense but completely unable to better explain my jumbled thoughts. "Munch...I was afraid he wouldn't respect me if he knew...it's stupid, I knew he wouldn't think any less of me really, but I didn't want anyone looking out for me, I didn't want to feel I needed to be looked out for ...making any sort of allowances, or changing our relationship in any way, would have felt like I'd lost his respect..."

I groan deeply as I think of the secret I kept from my partner.

"El...I meant what I said yesterday, I really was afraid he'd throw a fit...but also, things, were always so...complicated... between us...I knew he'd blame himself for not being there, he'd blame me for going...it would have changed things between us and I think that's what scared me the most. By not telling anyone it was somehow, less...real, at first, anyway. Because nobody knew, I didn't have to talk about it, live with it...deal with it... I spent so many nights not sleeping, pretending it was fine, refusing to acknowledge it...then when it got so bad that I couldn't pretend anymore...it was too late...I couldn't tell everyone, that I lied to them, that it had happened...and I hadn't reported it..."

He swallows deeply, coughing slightly to clear his throat, "Did you tell anyone then?". His voice is rough, hoarse with the emotion he is feeling.

I nod softly. "I was in so much trouble...one day I brought some paperwork up to Huang...things were particularly bad...I knew he would ask was I ok...he had worked on my cover story with me before I went in...I had avoided him as much as I could...I burst into tears, I could only say one word, 'Sealview'...he sat me down, talked to me...he was so good... I think he had his suspicions even before...he knew I hadn't reported anything though... maybe he was just waiting for me to come to him, maybe the captain had talked to him, I don't know...I told him Harris hadn't raped me but it was so close...he didn't push me for anymore details...he let me choose what I told him, he told me he was there anytime, if I wanted to talk...he assured me nothing would ever leave the room...he suggested a therapist...he gave me her name, her details, but didn't make me feel pressured..."

"I'm so glad you went to him Liv, he was the best person to help you. He's a good guy..."

He shifts in his chair, and I can see he is debating whether to ask me something. I meet his eyes and nod my consent at whatever question he is battling with.

"You didn't come to me?"

I shake my head hoping he can understand my explanation, "I knew you were there for me, but you reminded me...and I felt...embarrassed...you had seen it..."

For a second the cool, confident man I have known for so many years is not the man that sits in front of me. "Did I do something wrong?" he whispers carefully, dread lacing every soft word...

I again shake my head, "No Fin, please...I need you to hear me...NO. I always knew you had my back, I always knew I could talk to you...if you had pushed,... I don't know, but I definitely wouldn't have talked to you, I would have gone the opposite way...You did nothing wrong, you were there for some of it, so while I knew you saved me, you were there to see it...and I wanted to forget it..."

He nods his understanding but I refuse to break eye contact until I can see he really does understand.

"I do understand, Liv. I just always wondered if something I'd said or done, made you hesitant to talk to me, if I should have done something else...you know I never, not for a second, thought any less of you..."

"I know that Fin. I know all of those fears of losing people's respect, of being seen as less, as weak...I know that was all me, projecting my fears on the rest of you...I just didn't know it at the time..."

We sit in comfortable silence, both reflecting on what we have said and heard.

I can't help feeling that this conversation felt a lot more natural than our first. This time I am sure he is not disgusted at me. I know, that it's not finished, there are still so many questions to be asked and answered, so many truths to be disclosed, but the fear and anxiousness I felt is dissolving.

As the clock ticks closer to the shift starting, the squad room starts to fill up, and we hear a contentedly, bickering Amanda and Carisi teasing each other as they walk into the squad room. Carisi, fervently insistent, he is right in whatever they are squabbling about. Fin rubs his face, in mock disgust, questioning, "When did we become the adults?" We laugh easily, at the memories of days past, when we were the ones eagerly being schooled by calmer, more senior detectives...

'Perhaps this final act was meant

To clinch a lifetime's argument

That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could

For all those born beneath an angry star

Lest we forget how fragile we are'