Eyes Wide Open

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. This story is on an AU track.

Chapter 16: Interlude

"This wasn't a bad idea," Mike commented as he sat down in the small room. "I didn't know hospitals had this kind of thing."

"It's usually for patients or families who've gotten bad news," Carolyn explained. "I...may have fed that nurse a few tidbits of information that weren't as connected as I made them seem."

"Like what?"

"Oh, that we had a close friend who was seriously injured and that we needed a private place to talk. It's not my fault if she assumed one was related to the other."

He grinned. "No, not your fault at all."

She grew serious, coming to sit down on the other chair in the corner where Mike had settled himself. "Do you want to tell me now?"

"Yes," he whispered. "But I don't...I don't know how..."

"Just start at the beginning," she urged gently. "Once you start, it'll be easier to keep going."

"It's this girl," he said finally. "And I don't mean - I mean an actual girl, a little kid. I found her wandering down the street when I was walking home one day in March, and...and she was almost naked, covered in bruises and blood so I went over to help her, and she looked up at me and...damn, those eyes. It was like looking into myself at that age." He shook his head slowly as if trying to clear away the images. "You know...you know that I can never forget about what my mother did. I have to live with the memories, so I've found ways to - to tuck them away so I can live my life. Sometimes, they come out on certain cases, you remember."

She nodded sadly, furious with herself all over again for what she'd done on that first big case they'd worked together. She had figured out partway through that Mike had a similar background to one of the perpetrators in the case, but it wasn't until she had pushed him on it in front of the suspect that she had realized how bad things had been for him. She had been beyond shocked that he had been willing to give her a second chance; she hadn't been half so lenient on herself. I dragged those memories out of him.

"But even after the cases," he was saying, "I was able to push them aside again after a few days. But not this time. I don't know if it's because I'm still getting calls every so often as a witness on the case or if it's something else entirely, but it's been months, and I still see that little girl every time I close my eyes, and then that brings back every memory I saw reflected in her little face. If I even get to sleep less than three hours after I go to bed, I'm up four hours later from a nightmare. I haven't slept through the night two days in a row since the day I first saw her."

"Oh, Mike," she said softly, her voice full of compassion. "No wonder you're tired. Fighting with those memories every night for almost three months would wear anyone out."

"There's more," he said, and then immediately cringed. Why are you telling her this? You'll ruin any chance you have with her for sure. But the words wouldn't stop; they just tumbled out. "More than...than even you know about. My mother wasn't...wasn't the only one who hurt me. There was this priest at my parents' church, Father Joe. I thought I could trust him. But when I was ten -" He stopped, swallowing hard, refusing to cry here in front of Carolyn.

He heard her sharp intake of breath. "My God."

"That little girl...as soon as I got a good look at her, I could tell she hadn't just been beaten up. She...I think she'd been raped. And even though it wasn't...he didn't do that...it started those memories churning through my mind too." He shook his head again. "I know, it's crazy. What he did to me is nothing compared to what happened to that girl -"

"Stop it," Carolyn said suddenly, so firmly that his head shot up to look at her.

"I'm sorry," he replied immediately. Are you crazy, Mike? Of course she didn't want to hear that. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, Mike, that's not what I meant," she said more gently. "I'm talking about minimizing what happened to you. You're right, what that girl went through was terrible. But so was what you went through." She reached out slowly, laying her hand on top of his where it rested on the arm of the chair. "If that's what's going through your head, I can see why you haven't been able to sleep."

Her hand felt good on his, so much better than he ever would have believed a simple touch could feel. Without any conscious intent, he turned his own hand over to clasp hers. "I missed you," he admitted.

She could hear the subtext as clearly as if he'd spoken it aloud. He didn't want her to leave. "I missed you too." She hoped he could read what was under her words. I'm here. I'm not leaving.

But she could tell that he was done talking about this, that he'd said as much as he was able to for right now, that it was hurting him too much to talk about it. She smiled at him. "So, you missed me, huh? Hope you didn't give your new partner too much of a hard time."

"I might've at first," he admitted, "but not because of you."

"Come on," she said, standing up and gently pulling him to his feet. "We're supposed to be checking on Sarah, remember? You can tell me the story on the way up."

"Well," he said as they walked out of the room, "she wasn't a bad cop, but it was pretty clear our new Captain had a soft spot for her..."

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"Hold that thought," Carolyn said with a smile, interrupting Mike in the middle of regaling her with tales of the two partners he'd had after she left. "We're here."

Mike looked through the glass window, seeing the crib with the Goren sign on it. "Damn, she's tiny. Poor kid, spending her first days of life hooked up to all those machines."

"That's what's keeping her alive," she pointed out.

"I know, and I'm grateful. I just wish it wasn't necessary." He shook his head. "Who the hell shoots at a pregnant woman?"

The same man who would rape one and throw her down the stairs. But Carolyn didn't say it out loud. Though she knew, especially after what had just been revealed, that Mike would understand, but it wouldn't be right for her to expose Alex's private trauma that way. "I know. But everyone says she's going to be okay. They both are."

Their conversation was forestalled when the older man who had been standing beside Sarah's incubator came walking out towards them, only to stop short when he saw who was there. Remembering Alex's words, Mike stepped forward. "Mr. Eames, I presume? Your daughter's told me a lot about you."

"I don't need to ask who you are," the older man replied warmly, reaching out his hand to shake Mike's. "I still have that newspaper clipping from 95."

"Me too," he admitted, "to remind me to stop and think once in a while."

"You? Think?" Carolyn teased. "That'll be the day."

Mike couldn't help but let out a laugh as he made the final introduction. It felt good after the emotional conversation he and Carolyn had just had.

"So you're Carolyn," John said as he shook her hand. "I've heard good things."

"About you too," she replied. "Alex really admires you, you know."

"I know." A warm smile split his face. "Not that she doesn't have plenty to be proud of on her own. Personal and professional," he added, glancing back at the incubator. "I have five children and now eleven grandchildren, but the miracle of new life never gets old to me."

As if realizing she was being talked about, the baby waved a fist in the air. Mike laughed out loud. "Looks like Bobby and Alex have a tough little girl on their hands."

"Alex's daughter?" John replied with a smile of his own. "Of course she's tough." A small shadow crossed his face, but the other two didn't ask.

Instead Carolyn changed the subject. "I'm sure Alex would like a few pictures. Think they'd let me bring a camera in there?"

"They let me," John replied. "Just - could you send me a few? The resolution on my camera isn't high enough, and I - I need a good picture of her."

"Of course," she said instantly. "Just give Mike a number to send them to, and we'll make it happen."

xxxxxxxxx

"Mike?"

"Hmm?" He blinked his eyes open, trying to get his bearings.

"I said it's time to wake up."

He turned towards the sound of the voice. Seeing Carolyn sitting beside him in the driver's seat finally woke him up enough that he could remember what had brought him into this situation. They had spent another half-hour with Alex until it became clear she was running out of energy and becoming too tired for visitors. When they had left, upon finding out he'd taken the train, Carolyn had offered to give him a ride home. He'd gotten into her car, but he only remembered leaving the parking lot, and then her calling his name.

I fell asleep in her car, he realized. "Damn, Carolyn, I'm sorry."

"Don't. It's okay."

He looked around, realizing for the first time that the area didn't look entirely familiar. "Where...?"

"My apartment." She smiled at him. "I have space, and since the other option with you asleep was picking your pocket to check the address on your license, I thought this was the best solution." She pulled the keys from the ignition. "Come on, let's go."

Feeling like he was still not entirely awake, he allowed her to lead him inside. "Here," she said gently, leading him to the living room. "The couch is pretty comfortable, and you look like you could use a longer nap."

"Carolyn," he stammered out, "don't think I'm not grateful, but I don't understand - exactly what is this?"

She lightly ran a hand through his hair, guiding him down to the couch. "For right now, it's one friend helping another. Discussion of anything else can wait until you feel better."

"I feel fine," he objected.

"You're exhausted," she chided gently. "Sleep and then we'll talk. I promise."

He knew she wasn't going to budge, and if he was to be honest with himself, sleep was a tempting thought. He kicked his shoes off and laid down - Carolyn was right, the couch was comfortable, and long enough for even his tall frame.

He felt something soft begin to fall over his body, and as he looked up, he realized she was draping an afghan over him. He barely had time to process that before she was bending over him, running her hands over his head and neck. "It's okay, Mike," she murmured. "You're safe now, it's okay. You can sleep. You're safe."

He drifted off with her voice in his ear.

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The first think Mike noticed when his eyes fluttered open again was that it was dark. The second was that he had woken because he was hungry and he needed to use the bathroom. It was such a normal reason to wake up from a sound sleep, so unlike the past three months, that he actually felt his heart leap.

He sat up slowly, attracting the attention of the room's other occupant in a chair nearby. He looked over at Carolyn, noticing that she had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. And she still looks amazing. "What time is it?"

"About ten-thirty."

"Ten-thirty?" he repeated in shock. "I slept for seven hours?"

"Just about," she said with a smile. "You look better for it, too. How do you feel?"

"Better than I have for awhile," he admitted, only for his stomach to growl its protest of his statement. "Though I could stand to eat something. And, um, where's your bathroom?"

"Through there." She pointed down the hall. "The door on the left."

By the time he was done in the bathroom, a pan of lasagna from a local take-out place was sitting on Carolyn's small table. He looked at it in amazement. "You just happened to have this lying around?"

She blushed ever so slightly. "No," she admitted. "I remembered how much you liked it, so after you fell asleep I ordered out, and it went straight into the oven so it would be ready when you woke up." She served a generous piece onto a plate and set it in front of him. "Lack of sleep can make it hard to keep to a regular schedule on other things."

"Like eating?" he asked wryly before shoving a huge forkful of food into his mouth.

"Exactly." She began working on a smaller piece. "And I knew you haven't eaten since at least noon because I've been with you that whole time. Given those two factors, I figured you'd be hungry."

"Can't argue with that," he said between bites.

Carolyn only nodded, allowing him to devour his food in silence. He inhaled three huge pieces of the lasagna, barely stopping for breath, as she watched him while eating more slowly. He'd clearly been eating less even than he'd let on, and his body was finally trying to force him to make up for it. It was only after he was clearly done and she'd put the leftovers in the freezer and the dishes in the sink that she opened what she knew was going to be a serious conversation. "I did promise we'd talk after you'd had a chance to get some sleep, so if you want to..."

"I want to," he replied immediately. "Though I'm not sure it'll be as easy as I thought it would be when I was falling asleep." He laughed. "Damn, look at this. Me, Mike Logan, not sure how to talk to a woman. No one will ever believe it."

"I believe it," she said seriously. "And I would even if I wasn't sitting right here. I'd wager that the kind of talking to a woman you're familiar with isn't going to be any help in this situation. I don't mean that as a criticism," she added quickly. "It's an observation. Casual dating is one thing, and whatever...this...is or will be, I don't think casual dating is it. For what it's worth, this is new to me too."

"Really?" He couldn't hide his surprise. "Pretty girl like you, you've never had a serious relationship?"

Carolyn let out a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh. "Oh, you have no idea. If anything, that's been the bane of my dating life."

"How does that work?" Mike asked incredulously. "Seems kind of backwards to me."

"It does, doesn't it? But people who only see the way I look are usually less than thrilled when they find out I'm more than just a pretty face."

"You are so much more," he said before he could stop himself. "You're one of the smartest people I've ever known - and I only have to put that qualifier in there because I know Bobby."

She smiled. "You're pretty smart yourself, you know."

"Not compared to the two of you I'm not."

"Yes," she said with surprising force, "you are. I've seen you work, remember? You have an incredible level of intuition. You understand what's going on with people, right there in the moment. Like in our first case, when you knew that guy was going to try and climb out the bathroom window. I would've lost him from that stunt, but you anticipated it and were right there to grab him."

"Cop instinct, sweetheart. Nothing more."

"Don't sell yourself short. I've known a lot of seasoned cops who don't have half the instinct you do." She paused for a moment. "I guess you'd know more than most people about being seen as one thing when there's so much more to you. Ever since that incident in 95, you've been seen as 'the cop with the anger problem'. You told me once that even before that, most people thought of you as a hothead. Now I know you can be, but like you said about me, you're so much more than that."

"You really think that?"

"I know it," she insisted. "You stopped to help that girl you were telling me about, didn't you? How many other people stopped?"

"None." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone at that recollection. "Not one person stopped to help a little girl in trouble."

"Actually, one person did," she reminded him. "You."

"Okay," he conceded. "But what does that have to do with this?"

"You feel things very intensely," she replied. "You feel for the victims. And yes, that sometimes leads you to do things you might regret. But it also makes you better at what you do the rest of the time. I'd bet there are at least a few people alive today because of the dedication those feelings brought into the mix. And I have no doubt that the child you can't stop thinking about is one of them."

He nodded slowly. "It's worth it," he said finally. "I can live with the constant memories if it means that girl has a chance at a decent childhood."

"I know." Again she laid her hand on top of his. "I saw you lay your soul bare in front of that horrible foster mother on the mere hope that that would be enough to stop the carnage she was inflicting on innocent families."

She felt it then, just as she had earlier in the day. He moved his hand ever so slightly into her touch. It was so subtle that she doubted he was even aware of it, but it told her all she needed to know. "Let me help," she whispered.

"How?" He wanted more than anything to banish those memories back to the dark corner of his mind where they usually lived, but it seemed impossible.

"I don't know exactly," she admitted, "but we'll figure it out together." She began rubbing circles on his hand with her thumb. "You tell me what you need, what helps you feel better, and we'll go from there, okay?"

He stared at her in disbelief. "Why - why are you doing all this for me?"

"Because you don't deserve this," she said gently, shoving down her anger at everyone who had made Mike feel like he wasn't worth bothering with.. "And because I care about you."

He still stared at her as though the words weren't registering, and she decided it was worth taking the chance she'd been contemplating for several minutes now. Standing and stepping around the table, she pulled him into her arms.

At first, Mike was shocked, though not unpleasantly so, by her actions. But her touch was so warm and comforting that after a few moments, he simply melted into the embrace. "Carolyn..." he gasped out.

"Shh," she soothed, rubbing circles on his back with both hands. "It's okay now. You're going to be okay."

His shoulders hitched with a sob he refused to release. It was one lesson that had been beaten into him almost from infancy: he was never supposed to cry. No matter how severe his mother's rage at any given time, tears would make it worse. By the age of five, he had learned how not to cry regardless of whatever pain was inflicted on him. But for some reason, he was having more trouble with it here and now than he had on even the worst days of his childhood. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

Carolyn stopped rubbing his back in favor of wrapping her arms fully around her friend and pulling him even closer. "It's okay, Mike," she said again. "Let it go. You'll feel better."

Feel better. For so long that had been an impossible dream; the best he could hope for was to push the painful memories as far out of his everyday life as they would go. But the idea of crying in front of anyone was still tripping that instinct he had formed so long ago. When Krolinsky had first been arrested, it had been only the sheer magnitude of the trust between him and Lennie that had allowed him to shed a few tears on the man's shoulder, and even then, he had never fully lost control. But he was so close to the edge now; if he let his guard down at all, he knew there would be no stopping the flood.

Despite his best efforts, his shoulders hitched again and a sob rose in his throat. He tried instinctively to swallow it back but choked, which triggered another sob, and then he just broke down in Carolyn's arms, crying like he couldn't remember ever crying before. He shook and sobbed, releasing years of repressed pain that had been floating so dangerously close to the surface of his mind for the past several months, and through it all Carolyn just held and rocked him. "That's it," she whispered into his hair. "Just cry it all out."

He had no concept of how long it took before he ran out of tears to cry and slowly lifted his face from her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, staring at the floor. "So sorry. This isn't how I pictured today playing out. I wanted to spend some time with you, and instead you've spent the day taking care of me."

She gently caressed the side of his face. "Don't apologize. Apart from this not being your fault at all, I'm not upset in the slightest." She sat down in front of him so she could look him in the eyes. "If anything, I'm amazed by what happened here today."

"What?"

"I'm amazed," she repeated. "And humbled. Do you have any idea of the gift you just gave me? I know how hard it is for you to be vulnerable like that. That you trust me enough to let me see that - I'll remember that for a long time."

She leaned forward then, slightly but, he would realize later, with clear purpose. Without thinking, he mirrored her action, and their lips met in the middle. The kiss was soft and gentle, nothing like Mike had imagined kissing her would be, but in that moment, it was perfect. His battered psyche was too raw for him to have enjoyed the level of passion he had once fantasized about.

"Does that clear up any doubts?" she asked softly.

"Y-yeah," he whispered between deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate back to normal.

She noticed, and smiled. "I surprise you?"

He shook his head, looking back at the floor. "Not exactly. It's just, I thought - I was sure that telling you about Father Joe would kill any chance of us ever being more than friends. How could - how could any woman want me after -?"

"Mike, look at me."

Her forceful command seemed to compel him to obey, and he raised his eyes to meet hers as she continued. "Mike, I don't - no, that's not entirely true," she amended. "I do care, but only in the sense that it makes me so angry that someone hurt you that way. It doesn't change the way I see you, or the way I feel about you."

"How?" he asked almost brokenly.

"Because - because it changes nothing, Mike. You were a little boy who was taken advantage of in the worst possible way. You didn't do anything."

"You're right about that," he said bitterly. "I didn't do anything. Didn't scream, didn't try to fight, I even stopped saying no after a few minutes. I just stood there and let him - let him -"

Now she was on the verge of tears. "No, Mike. You didn't let him do anything. Look at me," she insisted again. "Look at me and listen, because I'm going to tell you something you should have heard a long time ago. It wasn't your fault, Mike. It doesn't matter what you did or didn't do. He had no right to touch you." She ran her hand gently over his head. "Where is he now? Please tell me he's dead, or at least locked up."

He grimaced. "Wish I could. He did go to trial eventually, McCoy found a loophole in the SOL, but right when everything was falling into place he let him plead down to fifteen years." He couldn't keep the disgust and anger he still felt at that turn of events out of his voice. "He got out four years ago, and the DA's office didn't even bother to let me know. If Don Cragen hadn't heard through the grapevine and given me a heads-up, I might never have been told."

Carolyn's brow furrowed. "Where is he now?"

"Don't know, don't care as long as I don't have to see him. Once he left the parish, I was hoping I'd never see him again. The trial in 95 was already more face-time with him than I ever wanted, and I had nightmares for weeks because of it." He thought again of Lennie, of the night after the sentencing when his partner had found him on the roof and had seemed to know exactly what he needed but couldn't ask for. It had been the first time since the start of that awful case that he had felt like he just might come through okay. And in this room, with Carolyn, things seemed to be coming together the same way.

A sudden wave of fatigue hit him, coming on the heels of relief, and his head started to fall forward. He quickly pulled it back up, but not before Carolyn noticed. She ran her hand gently over the back of his neck. "Oh, Mike, you're exhausted. Come on, let's get you lying down."

He stood, heading back towards the couch, but she put an arm around him to steer him towards the bedroom door instead. He stopped, turning to face her. "Carolyn, I'm not -"

"Shh," she interrupted gently, clearly reading everything he wanted to say on his face. "All we're going to do is sleep. I promise. But you need a real bed, and this way I can stay with you."

As the door opened, he allowed himself the momentary pleasure of looking around Carolyn's bedroom. It was far from the first woman's bedroom he'd ever been in, but it was quite possibly the most significant one. But his exhaustion caught up with him quickly, and he began working at the buttons of his shirt, trying to get it off. He was so tired that he could barely get his fingers to do what he needed.

Seeing his struggle, Carolyn reached for the buttons, moving his hands out of the way in the process. But as she did, his entire body tensed. "Don't...please..."

She immediately dropped her hands as though the fabric burned her. His posture relaxed and he began fumbling at the buttons again. "I'm sorry, Carolyn."

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed that would be okay."

He shook his head, finally getting the last button open. "You were trying to help."

"I still should have asked first," she insisted as he moved down to the button on his pants.

"Carolyn," he said softly, "I need you to know...it's not you."

Tears stung her eyes. "I know, Mike, I know."

He let his jeans fall to the floor, stepping out of them so he was just in his t-shirt and boxers. She eased him down onto the bed. "What I said before about telling me what you need? That applies here too. I want you to tell me if something doesn't feel right. I never want to do anything to hurt you."

"It's not - you didn't - it's just - he took my clothes off me," Mike finally managed to stammer out. "Usually it doesn't bother me, but tonight for some reason -"

"Because those memories are raw right now," she replied gently. "You said it yourself, this case tore all that open for you. It's understandable that you'd be more sensitive to triggers. I am so sorry." She gently ran her fingers over the side of his face. "I should've been more careful."

"Carolyn..." He was fading fast, but as far as he was concerned this conversation couldn't wait. "It isn't fair, you shouldn't have to."

"You're right," she replied softly. "It isn't fair that you were hurt so badly. It isn't fair that you can't live your life without battling those memories. I wish so much that I could just take that all away from you. But since I can't, I want to do whatever I can to help. I don't have to, I want to." She gently laid a finger over his lips to forestall any protest. "If you really want to argue this with me, we can do it tomorrow. Right now, you need to sleep."

He couldn't disagree with that; he was barely able to keep his eyes open. He let Carolyn guide his head to a pillow. He was almost asleep when he heard her ask, "Can I hold you?"

"Yes," he breathed.

She slid into the bed next to him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling his head to her shoulder. Just as it had before, warmth and comfort seemed to radiate from her touch. He closed his eyes and was instantly asleep in her arms.

So, yeah...an interlude, just like the chapter title says. This wasn't originally going to be part of the story, but after writing out the Logan scenes in Little Girl Lost, I wanted to have a chance to really explore his reaction to those events in a way that I didn't think I could in scenes with a virtual stranger (i.e. the SVU team).

This chapter is my first solid link between this plot arc and the side arc of A New Reality and Little Girl Lost, making them firmly part of the same series (the plotlines will merge fully in a subsequent story). It also officially incorporates my oneshot Friends to Believe In into this series, making that chronologically the first installment in the series, albeit not one that's necessary to understand the rest of it. As is the case with that oneshot, this chapter references the original L&O series episode Bad Faith. The chapter also references the CI episodes Diamond Dogs and To The Bone.

John's reason for asking Carolyn to send him photos of Sarah will be revealed in a later chapter.

Please review!