Author's Comments: Patience, my loves. Sweet EO moments coming up, and some good ol' EO tension as well.

Chapter Eleven

"How bad is it, Elliot?"

"Shh . . . just focus on getting to the bed."

He helped her to the bed, and she wished she didn't need his help so much, but his strong arms really did make a good crutch to lean on. She watched his muscles bulge as he helped her onto the bed.

She felt stronger today—her third day of recovery, and the doctor had encouraged her to go for short walks. But her newfound strength was merely physical—her heart was torn to shreds, and her head felt like she was trying to sort out an impossible puzzle—muddied by drugs and anxiety and unanswered questions. She hadn't asked him this question yet, but now she had to know. "How bad, El? It's pretty messed up, right?"

He shook his head, feigning ignorance. "I don't know, you're all covered up with bandaging."

But she knew it was a lie. "C'mon, El, you saw it before that." When he didn't answer, just avoided her with his pitiful eyes, she said, "I'm going to be permanently scarred, aren't I?"

She got quiet, for fear that if she continued speaking her voice might crack from the sudden flood of emotions. It wasn't that the actual physical scars would have much effect on her—she would rarely see them. But somehow, knowing she was permanently scarred was a constant reminder of the dozens of unexpected ways the people close to you could hurt you.

Elliot finally pitied her enough to meet her eyes. "It will heal, I promise. I've got my own, you know."

A nurse entered, her young hair up in a ponytail, and she began the daily dressing change on Olivia's back. As she worked her expert hands over Olivia's shredded back, she touched a particularly tender spot and Olivia flinched, inhaling sharp breaths between her teeth.

A knock interrupted her protestations, and a face peered in the door. "Oh, I'm sorry, I can come back—"

"It's okay, Barba, she's just finishing up," Liv said, hurting too much to be embarrassed. "Just wait outside for a minute."

He obeyed, tipping his coffee cup to her as he backed out. "

Ah, crap," said El.

"What?"

"Well, I'm not sure if he's here to visit you or to lay into me. I'm sure he's not too happy to see my face right now."

"Why?"

The nurse left, and Barba knocked again. "Come in," said Olivia weakly, laying down on her side again with Elliot's help. She couldn't help but notice how sweet he was, pulling the sheets up over her. But if chivalry was the only sign of a good man, her fateful night with Tucker would never had happened.

Barba came in, a beautiful flower arrangement in hand, head hanging like a dog in trouble. If he was mad at Elliot for something, Olivia would have never been able to tell with his repentant look. "Liv, I'm so sorry. How are you feeling?" Before she could decide whether to be honest or to avoid his pity by lying, he said, "Don't answer that. Of course you're . . ."

He let the words trail off and nudged Elliot out of the way so he could lean in close. "I just wanted to come tell you myself how sorry I am. I feel like if I had just made my warnings to you a little more clear—"

She shook her head, feeling too weak for this conversation all of a sudden, but knowing how serious and necessary it was. "It's okay, Barba," she said softly. "There's no way you could have known, unless—you didn't know about the rape of the prostitute, did you?"

He paused, and for a second she thought she might slip into a rage, if he gave her the wrong answer. "No. But I had heard that he'd raped someone. I swear, I didn't know the details. It was all just unconfirmed rumors. But still I—I feel like I should have done a better job warning you of the dangers—"

She didn't want to let the flood of memories come up again, so she interrupted him, saying, "Hey, don't blame yourself for that monster. You didn't create him. Please tell me we have a case against him, though."

Barba glanced up at Elliot, and she thought she detected that anger that Elliot had hinted at. "Yeah. We don't have as much evidence as we did before he got beat up in police custody, but there's still a solid case—" He must have noticed her eyes widen, because he looked up at Elliot and said, "You didn't tell her."

"Tell me what, El?" she said as forcefully as her aching body would allow.

He scratched his head, his eyes squinting. "I, uh . . . let's just say Tucker might have run into some problems in the interrogation room."

"Problems, like Elliot's fists," Barba said with condemnation in his voice.

Her mouth widened as she stared up at Elliot. "El, what did you . . .?"

"Broken leg, a few busted ribs, face beaten to a pulp, and," Barba cleared his throat, "severe injury to the groin area."

Olivia shut her lips tight, not sure whether to be enraged or grateful. She knew she would be the latter if Elliot's uncontrolled temper didn't lessen the chances that Tucker would end up behind bars. "I'm sorry, Liv," Elliot said, his eyes softening with remorse.

Barba touched her hand, his words soft like butter. "It's okay, Liv. There's still plenty to put him away. Not only do we have your testimony, and pictures of what he did to you, but now we have the testimony of the woman he did this to before."

She nodded, satisfied, blinking back tears. In this one moment, she wanted to roll away from the two of them, as gracious as they were being, just to have her privacy. Instead, she shut her eyes tight and listened to herself spill her darkest thoughts. "I don't trust my own judgment anyone after this. For all I know, you two could be a murderer and a child molester, and I'd never know it."

Barba laughed uneasily, but she opened her eyes to see them both staring at her, squirming in uncomfortable silence.