A/N Intala; I cannot tell you how much your loyal reviews mean. Every chapter I put up, you review, it means that I always feel like someone is reading...I was really worried that people wouldn't like Barba's answer but sometimes there just is nothing you can say or do to help fix things and it felt that acknowledging this was more than honest, it was a declaration of true support...

MrsChilton; another very loyal reviewer...your reviews always mean so much. Thank you so much. I really enjoy writing even when it feels like I've gone off the deep end...I love these characters so much and i'm glad you enjoy to hear what i reckon may be going on in their heads...

This is based around a song "No cover up" by Duke Special. He is a Northern Irish musician and this song is definitely worth a google if you don't know it...

"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..."

I want to tell him that I know it's not my fault, that I know I don't deserve this, that nobody deserves this...but all I can hear are my earlier thoughts...no one deserves this...

Even before I open my mouth, I know that this is something that I should keep quiet about. It's not something I can say in Dr. Lindstrom's office, it's something I should never say,... but I need to. It's like the words are burning me, scorching my insides as I try to push them down. As much as I understand they shouldn't be said, I know I can only gain relief from them by getting them out, only expelling them can lessen their pain...

"Rafael, do you think...that maybe he...when he was in prison...he was an ex-CO and a rapist...?

At first I see a look of confusion on his features as he tries to interpret my rambling, whispered, words, and then I see the understanding as it spreads...

His mouth drops slightly open.

His breath hitches.

He tries to project a calm façade and takes carefully measured breaths.

I can see he is struggling to know how to answer me.

"What are you asking me Olivia?" he quietly asks.

'There are faces that we should not know

There are places we're not meant to go

If you try to find me you will never win

For behind each layer lies another skin'

I can't read his face, I'm too close to outright panic, to be able to interpret his facial clues. I know I should never have said the words...

Somehow, my panic summons Harris' face forward in my memory, and I push my way out of Rafael's arms, standing in front of him shakily. I try to silently reassure him that I'm ok with a trembling hand pushed out, as I stand on wobbly legs, with tightly, scrunched closed, eyes. As the mental image of him towering over me on my knees, with his pants pooled around his ankles, finally recedes, I look into the green eyes watching me carefully.

He looks up at me, seemingly more certain, more confident in his interpretation of my stumbling, unfinished, question than he had been, now he knows what I was asking.

As I start to nervously pace the length of the living area, he sits up carefully, waiting until I can see his slow, deliberate, movements.

"Liv, are you asking if I think he was assaulted in prison?"

I desperately try to think of anything else I could have meant, but my scrambling mind will not allow me to see any alternative, so I just stop in front of him, my hands clasped, my head lowered in shame that I could even ask the question.

'No cover up

Just so much trouble

No cover up

I'm bent in double

No cover up

Just wreck and rubble of the person I was'

"We'll probably never really know...unless he reported something but..." He answers softly, his eyes clearly watching my face for any reactions.

I nod, knowing how few inmates ever report a prison attack.

He lightly pats the couch beside him, silently asking me to sit back down beside him.

I shake my head definitely.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see his hand rub across his face, his hand resting a few seconds too long across his mouth. I can only interpret his gesture as one of disgust...

"I'm sorry Rafael. I didn't mean it..." I hastily try to repair his crumbling opinion of me.

He stands, reaching his arms out to me, his eyes pleading with me to move towards him, to not reject his embrace. I stumble a half step towards him and he quickly sweeps me into a warm hug.

He clasps me tightly to him, and his soft, husky, voice whispers from where his face rests in my hair.

"I hope he was...I've thought about it a few times since you told me about him...I feel like a horrible person saying it but I do...I hope that he felt a little of what he has put you through..."

His words surprise me. His voice is low but there is no mistaking the feelings behind the quietly muttered words.

I don't know how to explain how I feel...

"I thought I wanted him to know what it felt like...I thought I'd feel better, if I thought maybe, he understood what he did...and I want him to have known how much damage he caused but...no one deserves that...when I think of... even him, being held down, trying to fight his way free...like I did...I can't..."

My head shakes repeatedly even after I have finished speaking. My hands clasp his arms tightly, as I try to ground myself, to stop the flood of images assaulting my mind. My screams for help, for mercy, my pleas to him to leave me alone, to get off me, are mixed into Harris' imagined pleas, his likely screams...

Rafael softly grasps my head in his hands leaning his forehead gently against mine, as he tenderly whispers that I'm safe, he can't hurt me...

My head shakes adamantly; I need him to understand why I can't allow my mind to think that Harris was sexually assaulted in prison.

"Lewis told me...in the beach house...that his father used to take his babysitter into the bedroom while he watched TV...and one day she came out and asked him to 'play' instead...he was only a child, Rafael...she took him into her mouth..." The voice that says these words no longer sounds like my voice, the raspy words are barely loud enough to be heard...

"His father came out of the bedroom to find her...he told me that his father punched her hard, in the face and raped her right in front of him as she screamed...I thought he was looking for some sort of sympathy, Rafael...I asked him if I was supposed to feel sorry for him?...he said no, that's the day he found out what he was born for...his father finished with her and took him out for ice-cream...maybe if he hadn't seen any of that?...maybe if he hadn't experienced it?..."

I can't really see his face from where we stand forehead to forehead, and I have closed my eyes as I relayed yet another painfully withheld detail...but I feel his body shake slightly as he struggles to absorb my words.

"His father showed him how... to rape?..." his words are faint, disbelieving, pained, stuttered.

I nod my head tightly, never breaking any point of contact with him.

'I am broken and I stand accused

Is there someone who can let me loose?

If you find the answer make a careful note

I could use your pardon and a lot of hope

I'm getting to that part at the end of the rope'

"He kept asking about my father..."

He can clearly feel me tense in his arms and he cups my chin with one hand, his thumb stroking my cheek as he lifts my head until I meet his shimmering green eyes.

"Maybe it was in his DNA, Rafael, maybe it was all he knew...what if I'm the same? I spend my days with rapists, maybe it's in my DNA too...?"

I can see a sort of incredulous, dread, fill his face as he looks at me. I don't think he is capable of speaking as he continues to look at me...

"My father is a rapist too...he raped my mother..." my words falter as I just point a thumb at myself, shrugging, knowing that he will understand without me having to say the words...

"Liv..." he barely croaks, as he pulls me into him, one hand stroking my face tenderly. Tears roll silently down his cheeks.

I try to wipe his tears away with my thumbs as I hold his face, but I barely wipe them away before a fresh set replace them.

"It's not a secret, I just don't really like to tell people..." I try to soothe him.

He leans his face into my right hand.

"I want Harris to know how much damage he did, but I'm so scared that it's a vicious circle...I don't want him to have been ...but now it's in my head..." I swallow deeply.

"I don't forgive him, I don't want to protect him...I just need it to stop..."

He nods tightly in understanding, but the tears still flow unhindered.

'Take a picture if it helps you sleep

Then expose me as your royal creep

For now I've torn it we are not the same

There's a sun that's breaking through my window pane

It's burning up my face, yes, it's doing it again'

I realize, in surprise, that my cheeks and my eyes are dry, but as I look at his tear soaked face, any sense of achievement in keeping control of my tears in his presence is immediately demolished.

"You're nothing like him Liv..." His words are choked, faint, but heartfelt. I can see in his eyes how much he means it.

For a moment I'm not sure if he means Lewis or Harris or my father...but as I look into his eyes I understand he means all of them.

I try to look away but he pulls my face back to meet his eyes "You're nothing like him Liv...".

We stand in front of the couch, grasping onto each other, as if our very lives depend on keeping a tight hold on each other.

We stand there in silence, our only movements, a hand raised as one of us reaches to wipe tears from the face of the other, or a small head tilt to place a soft kiss on the face of the other.

'I'd love to let you near me if you find a way in'

"You are so amazing...everything I learn about you, I'm more in awe of you, your strength, your heart...how can you doubt yourself?"

He asks delicately, holding me tightly to him.

"You really didn't know...about my father?"

He shakes his head sympathetically, but there is no trace of pity.

"I knew you had a hard childhood, I've heard you mention your mother a little, but no... How did you find out?"

It makes me smile that his first, tentative, question is not about whether he is in prison, or did I find him, it's how did I find out and all that implies.

Again I'm so grateful that he has uncovered yet another, of my huge secrets, and is not running away from me.

"She told me as soon as I was old enough...I can't imagine how hard it was for her...she tried but...I suppose it was just too much...I was too much of a reminder..." I bite my lip. "I guess it's a part of the reason why I do this..."

"Can I ask you something Rafael? If you answer, you can't hold back...I need a full answer..."

He simply nods his agreement to my terms.

"Amanda said something that has really stuck with me. She said that the details of what happened, with Harris, with Lewis...they're so important, so personal, that for most people they don't matter. I know you heard a lot of the details from the trial, but I've also told you more...do the details matter? Or do they just hurt? Do you want to know or do you regret the knowledge?"

He takes a very deep breath and nods. I know he is agreeing, he is going to answer.

I can see he is battling, to consider my questions, to put his feelings, his thoughts, into words, so I carefully disengage myself from his arms, gesturing to the brewed coffee. He pulls his tie off, throwing it across the chair to join his long abandoned jacket, he starts to roll his shirt sleeves up as he mentally ticks off my multi-parted question. He distractedly, sits onto the couch again.

'No cover up

I feel the burning

No cover up

No time for turning

No cover up

I hope I'm learning some honesty'

I place the two steaming mugs of coffee in front of us, as he reaches for my hand, pulling me into him, but allowing me to still see his face.

"Yes... The details matter to me. I want to know everything... They do hurt... Sometimes they haunt me... I try not to, but sometimes when I look at you I can nearly see it all happening again... I hate that I can picture them hurting you... but even when I wish I could permanently erase all the details I stored in my head for the trial, the pictures,... it's only when you tell me the things you didn't tell the jury, the things that for a trial didn't matter...its only when I hear that Harris told you he wanted what every guy wants...it's only when I hear that, I really understand...it's only when you told me about Lewis's father raping his babysitter in front of him then taking him for ice cream that I understand why you don't want Harris to have been assaulted...I don't think I can ever completely understand...but it's the details that allow me a more complete picture...they focus what was before a blurred image..."

He takes a deep breath, wiping away a couple of errant tears careening down his cheeks.

"I literally have a pain in my chest, Liv, as I think about these two details. I wish it had never happened with every part of me, but as much as it hurts me, I can't imagine how much it hurts you... I don't regret hearing it, I regret that you are able to tell me details like that...The details matter to me, because you matter to me...every detail that I hear helps me understand better...I have read every book and website I can find to try to help me not scare you, to help me understand what you may be feeling...because I couldn't cope if I hurt you...I need every detail to help us work through it...I've learned so much about how to deal with victims from you, but you are not a victim, you're a survivor, and much more than that, you're so much more, to me, than that...I want to know everything I can..."

His words mean so much. I know he is not holding back, I know he respects me enough to do as I asked...

"I don't want you to hurt Rafael, because of me. I don't want you to hate a part of your body because you are afraid you may scare me...I don't want to make you their victim too..."

We both know so many eloquent technical terms for what I fear but this is not another case, this is our lives...

"No Liv, you aren't hurting me. I'm hurting because you have suffered this. These details, this honesty, it's important to me...Can I ask you something?"

I nod tightly, worried what he needs permission to ask me...

"Did you ever tell Cassidy what happened? Or your old partner, after Harris?"

"I never told my partner about Harris...he had his suspicions, and Fin says he went nuts, but I never really told anyone about Harris. I didn't tell Cassidy. I didn't want him to know...he was so patient,...he wanted me to talk to him...but I don't think he really wanted to know...he wanted to help me, but it was too much...and maybe I wasn't ready to talk...I was afraid he'd see me differently. You already know so much...and you never treated me differently somehow. You looked out for me more, but I didn't feel like I lost your respect or that you pitied me, or doubted me. Cassidy knew Lewis' M.O... I never told him, I told him Lewis didn't rape me...I'm not sure, he really even believed that..."

I look at him to see he is biting his lip, considering whether he should say anything...

"At the time, I wasn't sure if I believed you either, Liv..."

"He didn't rape me Rafael...either time..."

He nods his head, letting out a small, relieved breath.

"I don't hate my body, Liv. When I heard what happened to Amanda, and when you told me about Harris...I did...but I don't now, I understand...when we lie on the couch, if I try to keep you away it's not that I hate myself, or even that I just want to protect you, I don't want to pressure you, and I don't want to surprise you, because I understand what your brain may associate my body's reaction to you, with..."

"I understand that Rafael. I really appreciate it, that you are so thoughtful, that you think of me...but I'm worried that you won't allow me to make my own decisions... when I'm ready, I don't want to have to fight with you...I know that sometimes, I want you to protect me and I don't know how to tell you the difference between when I want you to protect me, and when I don't...sometimes when you move away from me, it feels like you are ashamed that your body is reacting to me..."

"No Liv, never...I feel a little ashamed sometimes, that I can't control my reaction to you better, but no... you're too beautiful a woman to not react to...Please believe me, I'm never ashamed my body is reacting to you, just that I'm like a teenage boy, unable to control myself..."

I can see the red embarrassment flushing up his neck into his cheeks and I know he is telling me the truth.

I smile at him, slightly embarrassed at my own admission, "I feel slightly less broken, sometimes, when I know that I still have the power to make you feel like a teenage boy..."

He rolls his eyes, smirking, "Trust me, you have that power...Liv, you are in control, always...I won't risk scaring you, or triggering you...I suppose maybe once I know you understand why I am moving, if you don't want me to, I won't...Just please don't ever be shy to tell me, you are not comfortable...I won't take offence, I know you trust me..."

"How is it that we can sit eating lunch taking about some of the most depraved sex acts, in graphic detail, without a hint of embarrassment and yet we are both, turning bright red at this...?"

"Because Rafael, this is about us..." I say placing a small kiss on his lips.