A/N Intala; Thank you so much as always. I'm glad you liked Carisi. It just felt that he had to be the one to say something quite eloquent, quite wise...as I've said before, sometimes it's the people you don't expect it from, that say the things that make the biggest difference. It is too true that you can't judge a situation from the outside... I really do think that Liv has grown so much in the past few years, I really believe she is trying to open up in ways she never has before, as shown in her conversation with Nick on the show when he told her he was leaving and said he knew he wasn't what her old partner was to her...

MrsChilton; I'm so glad you are enjoying it...Your words always mean such a lot to me. I think Barba is a huge help to her...

This chapter is based around the song "Many Rivers to Cross" by Jimmy Cliff...

As Carisi's footsteps move away from behind my locked door, I am suddenly so tired that I can barely take the steps to the couch before I flop down onto its comforting softness.

The weariness that has taken control of my limbs is not soothed enough so I stretch my body out, lying across it's length. As the cushions cradle my exhausted body, my mind starts to race...

Why does Harris have so much power over me, still, after all these years?

It feels like it should be an easily answered question, but somehow it isn't. If I had seen him, towards the end, would I still have recognized him? Would he still have struck such fear into me when he was the one in a prison jumpsuit and I was the one with the badge? Would he have been angry, bitter, threatening, even from behind bars? Or would time have softened him? Would time have reduced his power over me? Have the ghosts of the past created a giant, that doesn't exist anymore, if he ever did? Would he have struggled to meet my eyes or would he have searched them out to revel in his destructive power?

'Many rivers to cross

But just where to begin, I'm playing for time'

I start to hate myself as I wonder how the last seven years have felt for him? Prison for an ex-CO has to have been a nightmare,... he has to have spent the intervening years in some sort of protective custody? I think some prisons try to house sexual offenders together, acknowledging how even amongst murderers and thieves, rapists are seen as scum. Could a rapist ex-CO, ever be safe in any section of the prison population? Did some vicious prisoner give him a taste of his own proclivities?

Is it not more than likely that a rapist ex-Corrections Officer could not be saved from some sort of abuse?

I have spent my entire career insisting that no one can ever deserve to be sexually assaulted.

After my stint undercover as an inmate, I was even more sincere in my belief, that inmates must be protected from sexually predatory Corrections Officers and prisoners, but does that belief really extend to the man who tried to rape me?

I know in years passed, we have used thinly veiled threats of fellow prisoners giving our suspects a taste of their own medicine, to scare them into confessions... I don't know now, how I feel about that threat.

Does it give me some comfort to think that even if he escaped experiencing what he did, to too many women, he definitely cannot have completely escaped the fear of experiencing it?

I find I am more than a little confused, and pulled, at these thoughts. I don't know how I feel. As an abstract, I want him to feel some of the pain he inflicted on others, but when faced with the image of him being pushed down, screaming as I did,... I'm upset and sickened, and cannot even contemplate such horror.

'I've got many rivers to cross

But I can't seem to find my way over

Wandering I am lost'

As I try to figure out how I feel about his death, I can't help but try to evaluate the effect he has had on me. I know that I have made huge leaps forward since the days long ago, just after he attacked me, when his face was the last thing I saw as I fell into a short, unsatisfying sleep, and the first thing I saw as I awoke, terrified, from paralyzing nightmares.

He no longer haunts every waking and sleeping moment. I don't often relive his attack, anymore, waking or sleeping, but I feel some of its effects nonetheless.

I don't like to admit it but I doubt my personal judgment. I didn't see him as a threat, I thought he was saving me from Parker, how can I trust that I won't make that same terrible mistake again?

After my experience at Sealview, it took me a long time to open myself up to a man again, emotionally, and sexually. It was a very long road back to something approximating 'normal'. I didn't trust my judgment. I didn't trust that any man would stop anything physical, at any time, should I ask him to. Now, all these years later, it feels like maybe nothing has changed...

I know that whilst Harris' attack started this feeling, Lewis' attack has brought it back to the fore. Two years have passed since he first attacked me, a year and a half since our final encounter...and some days it feels like it was all only yesterday.

I hate that I cannot just shake it off and move on.

I hate that I am now haunted, not by one, but by two monsters. I don't understand why Harris's attack still has so much impact? In comparison to what Lewis did, what Harris did was almost nothing...

After Lewis, should it just not matter so much?

'Many rivers to cross

And it's only my will that keeps me alive

I've been licked, washed up for years

And I merely survive because of my pride'

Somehow, between them, they have managed to exploit two huge lapses in my judgment. I couldn't see the danger lurking, hidden, behind a mask of basic, small, kindnesses in Harris, and even though I could clearly see the danger in Lewis, my slow, unthinking, reaction to an unfamiliar, unexpected noise in my apartment allowed me to fall prey to him, even after he threatened me. Why did I not learn from Harris?

It feels selfish but after the last few months, I have found myself grappling again, with the after effects of both Lewis' and Harris' attacks.

I understand the non-linear nature of healing after a sexual assault, but I cannot help the feelings of weakness that crush me, when it feels like I am back at square one and the pain overpowers me again.

When Rafael told me about Amanda's disclosure, that Patton had raped her, I couldn't help the wave of emotion that nearly swept me away. I could picture how she felt. I was waiting for the day that Harris would jump out of my past to wreck havoc on my present. I always knew the day would come. I didn't know exactly what form his reappearance would take, but I knew it was inevitable. I was terrified I would be unmasked as a hypocrite. Sometimes I wished I had reported his attack, I wished that somewhere, some file, detailed some of his attack on me, that some part of his prison sentence was punishment for what he did to me. But I was glad at the same time that the world at large, didn't know my shame. That whilst he was never punished or called to account for his attack on me, I was still saved from him escaping all consequences for his actions. I have spent the last seven years in relative peace, as he was safely locked up.

I understand for that, I should be grateful. I cannot imagine how Amanda, coped knowing that her attacker, her rapist, was not only free but also was still in a position of power in the Atlanta Police Department. She was faced, with perhaps my worst nightmare, that someone else would suffer as I had.

I will, now, never have to face that possibility. Harris is dead. Lewis is dead. My mistakes, in not reporting Harris' attack, and not managing to get Lewis convicted for everything he did, can never result in another woman's suffering.

I am relieved at this.

I am relieved that none of my nightmare-fuelled scenarios of revenge can ever come to life as Harris is set free, but I still, don't feel safe.

I'm not sure I've ever felt safe again, since that day in the basement, all those years ago. It sounds so overly dramatic. I wasn't in an everyday situation that cannot be avoided, I haven't ever had to face the same situation again, it was an anomaly, but I have never been completely able to find that same innate sense of safety I had before that day.

I managed to go back to my job. I can still face the worst humanity has to offer with a confidence, a sense of control. I trust my training. But to do that, even though I love my job, I have lost something of the woman I was.

It feels like every unconnected event that has a huge impact on me, somehow ties into Lewis and Harris. Amanda was faced with the superior officer who had raped her and I couldn't help but imagine the day when I will be forced to face Harris again. Nadia was kidnapped, raped and murdered, and I was faced with the alternative ending to my ordeal at the hands of Lewis. These seemingly unconnected events still manage to completely decimate the progress I have strived so hard to make.

'Many rivers to cross

But I can't seem to find my way over

Wandering I am lost'

I gratefully reach for my phone as it lights up, pulling me from my thoughts with it's shrill ringing.

As I see 'ADA Barba' flashing repetitively on the screen I smile softly.

"Benson..." I answer automatically.

"Hey Liv" his voice responds, in practiced calm. "Fin says you went home, is everything ok?"

I really appreciate his attempt to seem calm, and the fact that he didn't ask the dreaded 'how are you?', even if he couldn't resist a similar enquiry.

"I'm fine Rafael...I just couldn't concentrate...I was getting nothing done..."

He knows that it would take a lot more than a lack of concentration to send me home, but he kindly allows it to pass unchallenged.

"Good, I'm glad you are feeling ok, because I've just had a recess called until tomorrow, it's nearly lunch time and I could really go for some chinese?"

I know he wants to check on me. He should be working too, but he wants to make sure I am ok. I want to tell him no, that I'm tired, that I just want some time alone, but I want him to be here, I want to talk to him...

I remember kneeling on the floor of the bathroom stall not so long ago, and even though I know I should eat, my stomach flips uncomfortably at the thought of food, even as I say, "Mmmmmmm sounds good..."

I can hear him let out a tiny, held breath "Perfect, I'll be there soon..."

I hang up, smiling gently at the knowledge that he is coming. I pull myself off the couch, gathering plates, cutlery and napkins, automatically switching on the coffee machine for him.

When all we will need for lunch is laid out, waiting on the table in front of the couch, I head into my room, changing from my work clothes, into comfortable, dark grey, yoga pants and a loose, navy, NYPD t-shirt, brushing my hair quickly. I glance in the mirror, happily finding that I don't look as bad as I feel, my face is still a little pale but the red eyes have faded back to a more normal color. I find myself considering throwing on a little make up, to further hide the evidence of the morning's renewed upsets. I sigh, and try to remind myself that hiding from my feelings didn't work well in the past.

I lean heavily on the top of the dresser that sits below the mirror, 'I will not cry on his shoulder again'. I say the words out loud, promising myself to try not to resort to my natural silence but also vowing not to fall apart again, in his presence. I gently close my eyes, trying to calm all traces of my confused, tumultuous feelings.

'And this loneliness won't leave me alone

It's such a drag to be on your own'

A gentle tap on the door announces his arrival. I throw a last glance at my reflection as I head towards the door.

He is standing there precariously balancing a huge bag of takeout and an armful or files along with his briefcase and a light coat. I reach out and take the bag of food, laughing, "How many people do you think are hiding in my apartment Rafael?"

He shrugs gently, "I couldn't decide what I wanted so this way I can have a little taste of everything...".

I know he is probably also worried that I'm not eating properly and hopes to tempt me to eat with an assortment of my favorites, so I smile softly.

He throws all the files down beside his briefcase and lays his coat over them; as if he can hide the amount of paper he has brought to lunch...

I start to empty the containers of food onto the table, unsurprised when I see all my favorite chinese dishes arrayed in front of me.

He softly pulls me up into his arms, holding me tightly, kissing me gently. He looks carefully at me, as his hand cups my cheek, "I'm ok, Rafael. Really ...today, it was just too hard to separate myself from the women in the files..."

He nods lightly, accepting my explanation of why I left work.

"Lets eat before it gets cold..."

We both busy ourselves opening containers, serving up tastes of beautiful smelling dishes and I find that I am hungry, despite my earlier reservations. He smiles widely as I start to enthusiastically eat the food I put on my plate. We talk lightly, as we eat, commenting on news stories that play out quietly on the television in front of us, in between bites of delicious food. As we both finish eating I tease him again, over the huge amount of food that still sits in front of us. He smiles again, shrugging and piling the containers into my fridge.

He sits down onto the couch again pulling me to him, wrapping me into his body.

"Did you talk to Fin?" he asks kindly.

I nod my head, "I spoke to Fin... and Amanda and Carisi..."

He turns his head so he can look at my face, "How did it go?"

I shrug slightly, unsure how to evaluate three very different conversations.

"I suppose they went better than I'd expected..." I decide.

I know he won't push but he really wants to know more than that, so I try to explain...

"Carisi surprised me..."

I feel him tense slightly as he waits to hear what I mean by that, worried that he said something to upset me.

"No Rafael, nothing like that...He was so eloquent...so wise and understanding in his words..."

I feel his body relax at my explanation.

"Amanda was so...she just understood...she has promised to keep an eye on Fin...We talked today, again, and he wasn't disgusted by me, he just didn't want to push...but I'm worried about him...in some ways I think maybe this is harder for him?"

"It's hard for both of you Liv." I know that Rafael is subtly trying to remind me not to use Fin's feelings as a distraction from my own. I nod quickly, realizing that he thinks I can't see the effects of the last few hours.

"It just hasn't been the big ending I thought it would be..." again I borrow Amanda's words, "I know he's dead. I am relieved. I am a little angry. It feels like this should be the ending, like when Lewis died...but nothing has changed...I still feel the same...if anything I feel it all too strongly again..."

My words make me feel weak. I know he wants to understand. I am trying, but every closely held detail I share with him, I expect to be the thing that pushes him away.

His arms tighten around me. I know he is trying to show me that he is not going anywhere.

"I can do my job, I trust my judgment at work, I know I'm good at what I do. But when I leave work...it feels like I'm a different person. I'm scared. I don't think I've ever really felt safe since Harris...I don't trust that I can see danger...I don't trust my judgment...I'm trying so hard not to close myself off...Lewis told me that after what I went through there's a tendency to withdraw, to isolate myself...I want more than anything to prove him wrong, I want to recover...but I'm so scared..."

I turn to face him, needing to see his face, "I don't know if I can trust anyone when I don't trust myself...Lewis' words, Harris's words are still in my head..."

I can see tears gathering in his eyes as I point at my head, "They're both dead...but they're still in here..."

I choke back the sob trying to escape, "Harris told me, he wanted what every man wants..."

I can see Rafael swallow deeply but his eyes don't leave mine, and he makes no attempt to interrupt me, "I know he was trying to excuse his actions somehow, I know it's not the truth...like everything Lewis said...I know Harris wanted to break me..."

I try to look down, but his hand gently tilts my chin up again, until my eyes meet his again, and he softly nods for me to continue...

"They used their bodies as weapons... I can learn, no, I am learning that, not every man will use his body to hurt me..." I snuggle deeper, relaxing into him, "You have helped me...I know I can trust you...you know I trust you...I just don't know if I can ever learn to trust myself...Their deaths don't change that..."

My words are barely a whisper. I know he has heard me, I can see the pain crumple his face. His brow furrows deeply. He raises his hand slowly to stroke my cheek. I can see he is desperately trying to find words...I know he wants to help me. He wants to comfort me. He also knows how hard it was for me to tell him this so he won't risk a clichéd answer.

"I'm so sorry Liv...I hate that you feel this way...I hate Lewis and Harris for what they did to you...I don't know what to say...I want to somehow fix it...I feel so helpless now, there's nothing I can do..."

"Rafael, you are doing a lot now to help me...you're here...you're listening...you're trying to understand..."

His head dips slightly, "There's no where I would rather be...thank you for trusting me to tell me...trust me when I tell you...you never did anything to deserve any of this..."