A/N MrsChilton; I'm so proud of them too...they are just so incredible... The power in your words when you say "Every person deserves such tenderness from a lover" is not likely to leave me any time soon, it has really hit home. His reaction is very understandable but maybe it is all the more heartbreaking for that...
I guess strength is easier observed by someone else, it's hard to see anything other than weakness in yourself...your words have more power than you can imagine...

Guest; Every word written means so much, thank you for not just acknowledging you have read, but to say it is well handled means a huge amount...every word you take the time to write and send me means more than a thank you can express.

Intala; I've given it a lot of thought, there's absolutely no reason why she wouldn't or couldn't ask him to, and I don't see him having any problems with it...and I can see how it would be of benefit to both of them...the monkeys are storing it away to see if it works in whatever madness they come up with...
I suppose there's a lot of truth in what you said, and maybe if it was more 'normal' to communicate more about sex, these kind of conversations after a bad experience would feel less of an admission of being broken and weak...

When he slid back into the bed behind me, he seemed so much more relaxed. It was easy to speculate that the lack of tension in him was related to the soft body pressing against me, but it feels like so much more.

"Liv, I don't want to cause a nightmare for you, or to scare you, are you sure this is ok?" he whispers softly.

I take his hand and kiss it gently, "I'm not completely sure Rafael, I don't think it will...but maybe at some point, that may happen..."

He seems to consider this carefully, as I turn over to face him.

"I am afraid...I don't want to wake up to another nightmare, I don't want to see it happen again, or to see what could have happened...but I can't live like that, always trying to avoid anything that may cause a problem...I want to go to sleep in your arms...I want to lie like this, to feel the warmth of your body..."

He strokes my face so tenderly, as he nods.

"I wouldn't hurt you Liv...and if you do have a nightmare, I'll be here..."

I know he is still slightly more worried than I am. He is so scared of hurting me, that he is afraid to just let himself enjoy the moment. He is allowing me the control to make the decision, but he is still a little reticent.

As I feel his body start to relax, I'm glad of my experience in SVU. I'm grateful for the understanding I have garnered from all of the men and women who have inadvertently educated me, over the years.

I hate that he feels any of this, that he feels such confusion in his body's reactions.

I'm very aware that he really does need some time to process my disclosure. How can I make all of this easier for him? When we do try to pick up our sexual activity, what can we do to help each other? I don't want him to sacrifice his enjoyment for me. I want to pleasure him and learn about what he enjoys as much as he wants to pleasure me. I feel utterly ridiculous, as I lay naked in my bed, with a naked man, trying to figure out how I can learn his sexual likes. Surely this is an easy answer, we just spend time touching, talking...

I can't help wondering are we over-complicating all this? But as I remember how upset he was at his body's very natural reaction,...this is already very complicated. I don't think he could explain any better, what was going on, I'm not sure he really understands it...

I'm not sure I really understand my own reaction much better, I feel like I should be more affected, like I should be more conscious of being naked, of being close to him...instead I feel comfortable, safe even, lying in his arms.

'At times I understand you

And I know how hard you try

I watched while love commands you'

And in this cocoon of safety, it all just threatens to suffocate me...and the tears that never seem far from the surface, start to slip out again. The way I'm lying means that they fall away easily, never leaving the tell tale lines down my cheeks.

Somewhere in the deepest recesses of my brain I know these aren't the usual tears though, they aren't borne of frustration or upset...there's no overpowering emotion of any sort. The hot, wet, tears that drop back off the sides of my face, into my hair, are silent, almost painless, the only evidence of them is the tightness of their salty path around the crows feet that line my eyes and maybe a few damp strands of hair where they fall.

It doesn't feel like a lot to mark what they really mean.

Each tiny drop that breaks loose, signals acceptance.

As I feel Rafael's warm breath on my neck, one phrase looms large in my mind. It seems strange that it has taken this long for it to really find its place...

Harris is dead, he was a monster, but he's dead. Lewis was a monster too, he raped me, but he's dead too,...

The words thunder out in my head, one at a time, almost as if they have ejected every competing thought or sound, until there was nothing left but them.

He raped me...

The images that match the words flood back...but without the emotion that usually accompanies them. There's no fear, no agony, no pain, just the remembrance of events long past. I almost see them as an observer might have, but yet I can feel every disgusting touch, as if it were happening again now.

Even as I feel it all, there is no panic, no distress, no attempts to escape, because every part of my being, is aware that this isn't a nightmare or flashback, it's not really happening now...I'm safely in Rafael's arms now. I can't do anything to escape, because I couldn't escape it then, it happened...it's not happening now, but it did happen.

Maybe some of the tears are for what I lost...for the woman who died in that place.

I close my eyes to try and stop the images, the tears, but it does nothing to affect either. The tears continue to drip off my face and the images still play unhindered.

My eyes seek out the man beside me. He looks so peaceful. The expressive face that never seems to be able to hide his thoughts and feelings from those that know him, is relaxed in sleep, the gorgeous green eyes are closed and hiding whatever fills his head in his dreams.

As I look at him now, I can't help but compare his unperturbed, eased, visage to the pain-filled, stressed, countenance that has become all too familiar in the last few days.

'And who am I to judge you

In what you say or do

I'm only just beginning

To see the real you'

He barely slept last night. Between whatever horrors plagued him, and the nightmares that kept spoiling my efforts at sleep, he seemed to have hardly closed his eyes. He never once complained, when the monsters tried to pull me back into the past, he gently woke me, stroking my arm, holding my hand, soothing and reassuring me with a soft voice, that they weren't here, that I was in my bed, that the touch I could feel was him. Despite his own turmoil, his own pain, his exhaustion, not once has his thought been for himself. Even his decision to go to the support group meeting was largely influenced by his desire to keep his pain away from me.

How can a man like this want to love me?

I can't be responsible for another night of no sleep for him...

Somehow this thought reminds me that a new couple, like us, should be spending plenty of nights hardly sleeping, we should be spending half the night lying in bed awake, but for very different reasons. We should be exploring each other, touching every inch of each other, unable to keep our hands off each other's bodies. We should be spending our nights in a delicious sex filled bubble, not a reality where he is terrified of touching me, and feels guilty for his body reacting to my naked body pressed against him.

And how long is this self-imposed sexual embargo going to last? He has been so patient; he allows me to control almost anything physical...what about him? His likes? His pleasure? There is no balance of any sort, in our meager sexual activities...it is all tipped hugely in my favor. How can I address that? I know I need extra consideration, I hate it, I hate being broken, but I do need extra help to be able to consider sex, in all of its guises, again. How can I get that help, but not take all the focus? How long will it take for this...feeling...to pass again? Do I have to sit back and wait, or can I try to push it away faster?

I want to reach out to him...to stroke his face, that light stubble that is just so sexy...but I don't want to wake him again. And I don't want him to see even more tears...

'Romance and all it's strategy

Leaves me battling with my pride

But through all the insecurity

Some tenderness survives'

So I look at the ceiling instead, trying to will the tears to stop.

I've laid in bed so many times and cried myself to sleep, but this still feels odd, I'm definitely not numb, I'm feeling...so much...but the normal feelings that accompany tears are still missing. There is no huge upset, no huge frustration, no sobbing, I'm calm...it's as if I'm crying for what I have lost, but I've accepted it is all lost, is this resignation?

Lewis raped me.

He pushed my gun into me, his fingers, some of...his penis...
It was only the slightest penetration...
I almost wish I could know how much of his disgusting, body found its way into me.

I know it doesn't matter, but I can't help the thought that it matters more than nearly anything else... Why does it matter so much, if it was an inch or six inches? But it does. It's like the less of him that forced its way inside me; the more of me, there is, left, to be saved...

As I think these thoughts, I'm awfully ashamed of myself. I know how badly against everything I believe in, they are. How badly they pander to the stereotype of a forced act 'ruining' a victim... I hate that this untrue, uneducated, garbage is in my mind, but it is how I feel.

It feels like the scars that mar my skin, were only the foreplay to the uglier, more permanent, markers he left on, in my body...

I sniff lightly, trying not to move my arm, to allow my fingers to wipe away the tears that's still fall, for fear of waking Rafael. Instead I tip my head back slightly, and try to tilt my eyes up to stem their flow. This, also fails to make any impact, but as my eyes look to the man beside me, they meet pained green eyes.

I try to hide the tears, to pretend that I'm only waking, to turn my head away, but his hand softly turns my head back to him.

"Did you ever sleep?" he asks sadly.

I try to shrug, but his gaze is too focused, for his enquiry to be so easily cast off.

He takes my hand in his, not moving away from me, but not pulling me closer either.

"What is it Liv?" he whispers.

I can see him looking at the tears rolling down the outside of my face into my hair, I can see he wants to wipe them away but he won't, he needs to know what has caused them.

"I'm sorry Rafael, I didn't want to wake you..." I croak softly.

"Liv, I want to be awake when you are upset...I want to be here..."

Despite the softness of his voice, I can hear steel behind his words. And that immovable look he gets, when he has made a decision he will not deviate from, that I've become so familiar with in his work persona, is looking back at me.
"I'm not going anywhere..." he adds gently.

I'd like to say that I want to share it with him, but the truth is that I'm just so tired...I know how resolute he is when he gets this look, and I'm just too tired to fight him. "I don't know...it feels like maybe I'm finally accepting...everything..."

I want him to say something, to hold me, to let us try to go some sleep, but he just holds and my hand and waits for me to continue.

"I'm tired Rafael, we can talk about this another time..." I say as I try to close my eyes.

He pushes himself up on his elbow, not pulling away from me or moving closer, just raising himself in his position to be able to look me in the eye. The unexpected movement is enough to have my eyes fly open.

He seems to realize that his raised position, as he looks down into my eyes, feels threatening to me, as I lie beneath him. Instead he lies back down and lightly pulls on my hand, silently asking me to turn over and face him. My body seems to comply without any thought of asking my mind.

He still says nothing, but I don't sense that he has nothing to say, as he looks at me tenderly.

'At times I think we're drifters

Still searching for a friend

A brother or a sister

But then the passion flares again'

"It's not one thought...it's a mess...it's like a twisted game of word associations..."

He nods lightly, a few short dips of his head.

"This..." I gesture between us, "...it's supposed to be...balanced...two equals...a collaboration..."

Again he nods.

"But it's not Rafael, it's tipped so far in my favor...he raped me...I don't know how much of... himself he pushed into me...but it's changed me...I need so much extra...help...to even consider anything sexual...and now it's all been brought up again...I don't want this..." again I gesture between us, "to be so...imbalanced..."

I watch the small frown ghost across his features as he processes my words carefully, ensuring he answers each point when he speaks.

"This partnership is two equals, Liv. Don't ever think for one second that we are not..."

His hand cups my cheek as he speaks, finally allowing the hand that has been itching to wipe away my tears, to caress away the drops that still fall.

"Only a couple of hours ago you were there for me, trying to help me...I'm sorry if I make it feel like this relationship is unbalanced...the truth is that it's not...what he did, it has effected both of us, but you were the one who had to live through it, to experience it...when I'm reluctant...it's not because I don't want you, or that I just want to protect you...I need to protect myself too...I don't want to see myself as someone who could hurt you anymore,... I want to help us find a way to replace the bad memories...I need to replace the bad memories too...and I enjoy being with you, at least as much as you do...I worry that I'm pushing you too hard, or that I'm getting more out of our relationship than you are..."

I can't hide my surprise at this.

"Liv, after everything you have been through, you are still there for me...no matter what...you worry about my reactions, my feelings...just as I worry about yours...I've never been with anyone that I've felt like this, this is a true partnership...and if sometimes one of us needs a little extra care, that's part of it...because the other is more than willing to give it...I suppose that's what love is..."

He kisses my hand gently, looking to me before leaning in and lightly brushing his lips against mine.

'You ask me if I love you

And I choke on my reply'

For a moment he is silent but I can see his mind whirring beneath the quiet.

"Can I ask you something Liv?"

I hold my breath slightly, as I barely tip my head forward.

"Does it really...matter to you? That he..." he falters and I can see he is lost..."Liv, I don't know how to put what I'm trying to say...I need you to help me...like you told me how to refer to him, or how we figured out vocabulary for our bodies, or even what to call what he did...I don't know what words to use..."

I can hear how hard he is struggling as he says this, and I place a hand above his heart.

I'm not really sure what he's trying to say so I try to finish his sentence in my head, but there are just too many variables...

I nod softly, "I don't know what you're trying to say..."

He swallows deeply, aware of my confusion, but still with no clue how to address whatever it is...

"You said that you don't know how much of himself ..."

The second he sees the understanding dawn in me, he stops.

"Does that...I mean, is that important to you?" he breathes into my ear.

I can only nod, as I still battle to find the words he couldn't ...

'I'd rather hurt you honestly

Than mislead you with a lie'

"I know he raped me, there are no degrees in that...however slight it was...it was enough...too much...and I know its wrong, but I can't help it...I can't help trying to imagine it...trying to imagine how much he could have..."

As I say, it I can see him desperately trying to fight off the images my words are conjuring forward.

"Rafael, how can you listen to this?...how can you want to know this?"

'At times I'd like to break you

And drive you to your knees

At times I'd like to break through

And hold you endlessly'

"Because I want to understand Liv, as much as I can..."

The steel behind his pain is unmistakable again.

"I hate that I sound like someone who hasn't got the vocabulary to deal with this when I try to talk about it all, I have this vocabulary...I need to start using it." Some of his strength has found its way into me, "He raped me, Rafael, he penetrated me with a gun and his fingers....he penetrated me to some degree with his...penis" the words make me feel sick as I force them out, but there is also some sense of power.

His jaw tenses, and he frowns as he tries to gather his thoughts.

"Liv, it doesn't matter to what degree he penetrated you...you were so right when you said there is no penetration, of any sort, that is unwanted, that is not rape...I hate that it happened, but I'm so glad you survived, that you are here with me now, and nothing he did, achieved what he wanted...you are not broken, you are stronger than him..."

He leans his forehead on mine and his hand on my heart, as my hand rests on his heart.

'And sometimes when we touch

The honesty's too much

And I have to close my eyes and hide

I want to hold you till I die

Till we both break down and cry

I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides'

A/N "Sometimes when we touch" by Dan Hill...