Little Girl Lost

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

Chapter 3: Probable Abduction

"I hate kid cases," Amaro said softly. "Hate them."

Olivia looked over at him, seeing the struggle in his face that she knew mirrored her own. "I know. I do too." It was a consensus among most of the officers that came through SVU. The crimes they handled were awful enough, but when children were touched by those horrors, it was even worse.

The first thing they saw was the small group of parents standing in the parking lot, many of them holding their respective children close. They glanced at each other, both understanding the instinct. If it had been their children in the vicinity of such a crime, they'd hold those children tight and never want to let go.

"We've been keeping access restricted since we got the call," the officer told Olivia. "We've let the parents in to pick up their kids, we didn't want to cause a panic, but no one's been allowed to leave until we've talked to them and we've kept them in a few designated areas so they don't trample all over potential evidence. Most of the statements have already been collected; those parents and kids are the ones who are still waiting."

"Thank you," she responded as she and Amaro climbed out of the car. "What do we know?"

"Missing eight-year-old girl," he told them as they stepped through the barricade keeping the public away from most of the playground. "Andrea Marquez. Reported missing about an hour ago, but last confirmed sighting is almost two hours before that. We called you when we found her backpack, the detectives on scene thought that warranted upping the classification to a probable kidnapping."

"What took them two hours to call?" Amaro asked before he could stop himself.

The officer grimaced. "Well, no one even realized she was missing for over an hour. According to the staff, she's a quiet kid that people don't notice, so no one realized when she just wasn't there until the babysitter came to pick her up, then they realized she wasn't with the other kids and no one knew where she was. They checked the school and the grounds first, and then they called us."

The younger detective's eyes, however, were now fixed on a point past the officer. After a moment, Olivia realized he was looking at a redheaded woman who was sitting on a bench with a small, pigtailed girl apparently asleep in her lap. "I know her," he said after a few moments' silence. "She used to be a cop."

"That's the babysitter," the officer replied. "She didn't mention being on the force."

Amaro only nodded, stepping past the officer and walking straight towards the object of his attention, calling out as he approached. "Megan?"

She looked up with red-rimmed eyes. "Nick? My God, it's been years."

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned now. He'd never seen her look this upset.

She dabbed at her eyes. "I just - how can this be happening? How could I let this happen on my watch?"

"It sounds to me like this happened before you were here," Olivia replied gently, stepping up beside the other detective. "I'm Sergeant Olivia Benson, Nick's partner. It's Megan, did I hear that right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Megan Wheeler."

"And you're Andrea Marquez's babysitter?"

"Yeah - well, sort of. It's not really a formal arrangement, I just watch her sometimes for Zach."

"Zach?" Olivia asked. "Who's that, your boyfriend?"

"No," she replied. "Just a friend - well, there's no just about it, but we've never been, you know, involved. He was my last partner before I left the force."

"Which was how long ago?"

"Four years and change. I left when Margo was born." She absentmindedly her hand over the little girl's head. "You know, that was right about the time our friendship solidified. I mean, we became friends as partners, but if that had been all it was, I don't know that we'd still be close. Zach was there for me at a time when I desperately needed a friend, without me even having to ask for help. I was a single mother with a newborn and so sick I could barely get out of bed - I ended up back in the hospital a week after I was discharged with what turned out to be a massive infection. I don't know what I would've done if I'd been alone."

"So your friend, Zach, he's Andrea's father?" Nick asked.

"Foster father, technically, but it really is just a technicality as far as he's concerned. It's crystal clear that she couldn't be any more his child if she shared his DNA. And before you ask, he's fostering as a single parent. He has friends supporting him, including me, but there's no second parent in the picture."

"Is he here?" Olivia asked.

"Over there." She indicated a group of three people standing together near the front door of the school.

"I'll go talk to him," the Sergeant offered. "Nick, can you finish interviewing Megan?"

He nodded. "Of course."

Even as she approached them, before a single word was spoken, Olivia was able to identify who each of the three were. The tall man who wore a grief-stricken, lost expression was clearly Zach, the missing girl's father. The man with the gentle but professional expression had to be the Missing Persons detective. And the only woman in the group, who looked seriously worried but composed with her hand on the tall man's arm, was another piece of his support system. Definitely a friend, possibly, Olivia thought, a partner.

"Excuse me," she said softly, mostly directing her comments towards Zach. "I'm Sergeant Olivia Benson. You're Andrea's father?" She deliberately omitted the qualifier. She knew better than most what it was like to have a foster child that she loved like her own flesh and blood.

"Yes," he replied, sounding as lost as he looked. "Zach Nichols."

"Serena Stevens," the woman offered, reaching out her hand to shake Olivia's. "I'm his partner." Olivia nodded as she took the woman's hand, her suspicions confirmed. "Is there any news?"

"No, I'm sorry." She looked over at Zach. "Detective?" It was a fair guess, given the fact that he was dressed in plainclothes that were on the formal side, and no one corrected her. "I need to ask you some questions about Andrea."

"Okay."

"When did you become her foster parent?"

"July nineteenth," he replied immediately. It immediately reinforced what Olivia had already been thinking; this man's foster experience was similar to her.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"This morning, right out front in the car." He choked a little. "It was a normal day. I told her I loved her and I watched her walk into the school. I thought I'd see her when I got off work, I didn't realize -" He couldn't finish the sentence. "I told her I had a surprise for her."

"What was it?"

"I was going to take her to dinner and tell her - tell her that I was starting the proceedings to adopt her." He pressed a hand to his face, visibly holding back tears. "I talked to Heather - the caseworker - and she said everything looked good. She said she was rooting for us." His shoulders hitched, and Serena laid a hand on his back.

Olivia winced in sympathy. It was bad enough that this was happening, but on this of all days, it had to be heartbreaking. "Do you remember what she was wearing this morning?"

"A dark green sweater with a white pattern," he said after a moment. "Blue jeans and - and white sneakers. She wanted to wear her gray slip-ons but she couldn't find one of them and we didn't have time to look. I was going to help her find it tonight." Again, his voice was strained. "She had a light blue and purple winter coat."

"Do you have a recent photo?"

He reached into his pocket for his phone, scrolling through it. "Here," he said finally, handing it to Olivia. "It's from Thanksgiving, does that work?"

Olivia felt a lump in her own throat looking at the little girl sitting backwards on a piano bench, a joyful smile lighting her young face. "Do you mind if I text this to myself?"

"No, of course not," he replied numbly. "If it'll help."

"Can you tell me about your daughter?" Olivia asked as she handed his phone back. "She plays piano?"

"A little bit," he replied. "It's me who really plays. I've taught her some, offered to teach her as much as she wants, but mostly she just likes to listen. She's, um, she's very smart. She has better reasoning skills than some adults I come across on the job. But - but she's so timid. She's an abuse survivor, emotional and physical, and she's learned to survive by trying to submit completely to the adults in her life. She doesn't want to speak up for herself because experience has taught her that that just causes more problems. I've been trying to work with her on that, but it's not easy to overcome a lifetime of conditioning that probably started before she was able to walk or talk. She's more comfortable asserting herself with me now, but she still defaults to her old habits with unfamiliar adults. She doesn't spend a lot of time around other kids either. I think she just doesn't relate very well to most children her age."

"Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt her?"

"There's - there's Vincent Thomas," he replied after a moment, horror in his tone. "But he's locked up."

"The Park Strangler?" Amaro had come up behind his partner just in time to hear the last question and Zach's response.

Zach was clearly struggling to speak through the flood of emotion, so Serena stepped up instead, still resting a comforting hand on his back. "That's how we first came into contact with her. She saw Thomas kill his last victim, making her the only living witness to his crimes. What's more, she didn't just get a good look at his face, she also got a good look at his car and managed to remember part of his plate number. I don't know that we ever would have even looked in his direction otherwise; we had no leads before Andi came forward. But Zach's right, he's serving multiple consecutive life sentences, and he was a pretty serious loner. I can't imagine he's got the reach to get at her from behind bars."

"You worked the Park Strangler," Olivia commented, feeling the wheels in her head turning. "That would make you what, Major Case?" They both nodded. "Can you think of anyone who might take Andrea to hurt you?"

Zach flinched as though he'd been struck. "Oh, God. I - I don't know. I've been Major Case for more than four years. I've put away dozens of serious criminals. If one of them took her -"

"We'd like to look through those files," Olivia said gently.

"Of course," he said, raising his head. "Anything you need, just please find her. Please find my baby."

The agonized look in his eyes cut straight to her heart. "We're going to do everything we can. Just one more question..."

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As the Sergeant walked away, Zach became vaguely aware of a pair of hands gently steering him. He complied automatically, without thought, and was guided to sit down on what he belatedly realized was a flight of stairs. In the next moment, he was able to identify the person beside him as Serena.

He felt her warm hand ease his head down to her shoulder, fingers running over his hair and the back of his neck. "I'm here, Zach," she was whispering. "I'm right here. Just try to slow your breathing down, okay? Come on, in...and out..."

What? But then he realized he was, in fact, breathing so fast that he was in danger of hyperventilating. With an effort, he forced himself to match his breathing to the slow, even pace that Serena was setting for him, a pace that matched the movements of her hand.

"You think you can walk?" she asked after several minutes.

"Yeah, I think so."

She offered him her hand to help him up. "We'll go by your house to grab anything you might need, and then we'll go to my place." Her tone, while still kind and compassionate, brooked no argument.

He didn't have the mental capacity right that moment to object in any case, and he let her lead him to the car.

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In days to come, Zach wouldn't remember how he got from the car to the house. It was a series of actions taken without thought. The first thing he clearly remembered was standing in the foyer.

It was his own house, a place so familiar he could navigate it in his sleep. But right now, it was more like walking through a museum.

His eyes brushed over the dishes that had been left in the kitchen sink and on the table, over the small purple-and-white striped sweater draped over the back of one of the chairs, and over to the brightly-colored magnets on the fridge. All the little marks of how his life had changed over the past five months. All reminding him of how alone he felt.

He had lived alone in this house for decades, and he had never before given more than a passing thought to its size. Over the years, more than a few people had commented on the size of his home, but as was typical, he hadn't let their reactions affect his feelings on the situation. It works for me, he'd said simply every time.

Only now, for the first time, it didn't. All that space felt horribly empty, even hollow. It was too big and too quiet, and not a thing he could do would fill that emptiness.

He reached out, taking the sweater from the back of the chair and clutching it in his long fingers just as his legs finally gave out and he crumpled to the floor. He didn't even feel the impact of the unyielding ceramic tile under his knees. Nothing existed except for the all-consuming pain.

"Andrea," he whispered as hot tears streaked his face, "where are you, baby girl? Where are you?"

A pair of arms wrapped around him, holding him close, and again he heard Serena's voice in his ear. He couldn't make out what she was saying, heard the sounds but couldn't pull them together into words. He clung to her, trying to remind himself that she was there, that despite the hole that had just been ripped through his heart, he wasn't alone in the world.

"Hurts..." he managed to gasp out finally as his command of spoken language began to return.

"I know it does," she whispered. "I know it hurts."

He let her hold him close until he felt like he could stand. She stood with him. "Come on. Let's grab some things and then get going. This house isn't good for you right now."

"But what if there's a ransom call? If I'm not here -"

"Sergeant Benson's going to have TARU put a divert on your home phone, remember?" It was one of the last things she had told them during the interview, and in retrospect Serena thought she should have realized he might miss it. "It'll ring through to your cell."

"Right. Right, of course. I'm sorry."

She squeezed his shoulder. "Don't be."

Not a whole lot here, mostly just establishing facts. The part where Megan says that Zach helped her out after her child's birth (which would be around the time of Revolution and Loyalty) was entirely my own conjecture.

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