He couldn't tell her that the photo was of the person who had walked into the meeting room today, nervous and tired, but who had been the most beautiful person in the world, and warmth had spread into his every cell.

He couldn't tell her that the picture was of him and Olivia.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After the prison visit:

Their walk to the car was the calm before the storm.

Cragen was sensing it; he could tell it by the length of Olivia's steps, the position of her shoulders, and the way she was looking at the car. She was striding ahead of him as if she was walking down a corridor—not changing her pace, not turning her gaze, not reacting to her surroundings.

And when they got into the car and closed the doors, the silence that descended on the car was so thick, so oppressive, that it was almost palpable. Partly Cragen had expected an immediate explosion once they got into the car, so it was rather surprising that Olivia just sat next to him with her fists clenched, staring straight ahead, not saying a word. The seconds passed, the silence grew even more dense, and finally he could no longer stay still.

"Olivia, I know this looks bad now, but..."

Concentrating on trying to breathe, Olivia felt her captain's words knock the last bit of air out of her lungs, and she closed her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure the inmates are already on the trail of me being a cop."

"Ps. Do you know when the prey is easiest to kill? When it can't escape."

"This looks bad now."

And then something snapped inside Olivia. She couldn't tell why Cragen's words were the last thing to break the camel's back, as nothing new had happened in the situation itself. It had been known for a long time that the risk of it being revealed that Elliot was a cop kept increasing the longer he was in prison. It was inevitable. It had also been known that members of the criminal group led by Mr. Reed had connections with inmates at the prison.

But maybe it was Elliot's look, the dying flame of hope that had momentarily brightened his tired blue eyes.

Maybe it was his warm body against her, his breath in her hair, and his weakly shaking arms around her.

Maybe it was Cragen's statement, the first time anyone had said out loud how serious the situation was. A seal to the truth that every second made it more likely that they would lose him.

But in the end, what was the last straw didn't matter. It was as if someone had lit a match inside Olivia, the flame igniting the gases of despair, sadness, distress, and fear, turning them into a single, explosive, uncontrollable rage.

Cragen had been speaking for a while, but she hadn't heard it. Instead, she opened her mouth, and her voice was nothing more than a muffled growl as she asked:

"Why haven't you done anything?"

Surprised that Olivia had begun to speak, Cragen turned his gaze to her.

"Sorry?"

"WHY AREN'T YOU DOING ANYTHING?!"

A scream echoed through the car, bouncing off the walls, and made Cragen flinch. His eyes widened, he opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly the words seemed to get stuck in his throat in front of the anger radiating from her. Olivia had turned to look at him, there was a look in her eyes that he had never seen before, and he suddenly felt like there was a completely different person sitting next to him than the detective he had known for almost 10 years.

"How can you be so calm?!" The volume of her voice had dropped slightly, but her captain's silence seemed to feed the flames as he could almost feel them burning his skin. "That's your detective over there, his life is in danger, and you're fine with just leaving him there and hoping we'll find some evidence of his innocence before they cut his throat!"

"Olivia…"

"We've received a death threat, the inmates suspect him to be a cop... We don't have time, Cap! We don't have time to wait for clues to fall from the sky in front of us, he needs us now, not a month from now, and if…"

"Liv," Cragen had tried to speak, but when Olivia didn't seem to respond to his voice, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder.

It caused a reaction, but not the one he would have wanted. She flinched violently, tried to move, but because there was no room in the car, she could only shake her shoulder furiously.

"GET OFF ME!"

Cragen instinctively removed his hand, and Olivia was immediately ready for a new attack, but this time tears were glittering in her eyes as she continued:

"Or maybe you're just glad you don't have to deal with his temper. You'll get a new detective, someone who won't oppose you at every turn, be a pain in your ass, or cause you trouble. If he dies, the internal investigation will leave you alone, and no one will be asking how it is possible that your detective murdered a woman. Wouldn't that be nice?"

But that was when Olivia knew she had gone too far. She had known she had gone too far already when she spoke, but for some reason she hadn't been able to stop the words that had slipped out of her mouth.

And she had never seen such a hurt look on her captain's face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she whispered, because as the flames raging inside her died, the strength died too, and she felt how tears began to flow down her cheeks. Unable to look at Cragen anymore, she turned her gaze forward and rested the back of her head against the car seat.

Cragen was quiet for a moment, clearly looking for words, but then he sighed quietly:

"Liv, I know you're worried about Elliot. But that doesn't mean the rest of us aren't too. You have no idea what it's like to run a place that is understaffed, with its detectives all over the place, one of them in witness protection, one of them in mortal danger in prison, and that is being tormented by an internal investigation and the media. I'm trying to keep the precinct working because it's our job to help other victims along with investigating Mr. Reed's human trafficking ring and helping Elliot, and at the same time I'm trying to deal with my personal feelings. So, when you are telling me that I'm not trying my best, it's…" He had to swallow before continuing: "Not to mention you're telling me that I'd be happy if he died. He's a pain in my ass, that's true, but he's my detective, my friend, and I care about him. However, my hands are tied; he is in prison, accused of murder, so in the eyes of the system he is a dangerous criminal. I have no authority to tell the prison warden to move him to a safer place just because he has been threatened. So, if you tell me one more time that I don't care… I…"

"I know, I'm so sorry," Olivia's voice was weak as she first lowered her head but then looked up at her captain, who had squeezed his eyes shut. "I shouldn't have said that, because I know it's not true, but I... I don't know what was wrong me. It won't happen again, I promise."

Cragen kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, but when he opened them, the hurt look had gotten a new, softer nuance.

"Good," he breathed. "Good." Then he turned the key in the ignition of the car. "So, do you want to go home or back to the station?"

"To the station," came the answer without a moment's hesitation. "I am going to check the information of this 'Bull'."

Cragen wasn't at all surprised by the answer as he turned the car towards the station. He wasn't about to go home either, because worry was burning through his guts like flames.

However, Elliot wasn't the only one he was worried about. He glanced sideways at his detective sitting next to him, who was clearly trying to act determined, but he knew her too well to be convinced by her disguise. She was on the verge of breaking down, and Cragen's hands were tied. Even without Huang's statement, it was clear that the incident at the club with Mr. Reed was affecting Olivia much more than she let on: all those flinches, being on guard, and reacting to touch. Not to mention that the danger was also lurking around every corner. The incident was eating at her from inside but worrying about Elliot kept her from focusing on herself, forced her to push everything else aside.

And Cragen feared that her inner burden would soon become too great.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

One week later:

Snowflakes were slowly falling from the gray sky, and Elliot shoved his hands deeper into his pants pockets. It had been a week since Cragen and Olivia had visited in prison, and while on the one hand it felt like it had been an eternity, on the other hand it felt like it had only been yesterday.

After imperceptibly glancing around, he closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Being in prison itself didn't bother him as much as not knowing, not knowing if the investigation had progressed, if Mr. Reed and his henchmen had been caught, if his family was okay...

If his partner was okay.

Even though it had been a week since the visit, in his mind, he could still see Olivia's brown eyes filled with distress. He could feel her arms around him, smell the gentle scent of shampoo, and the memory of her voice, the memory of her shaking body made a lump rise in his throat.

He knew his partner well enough to know that she hadn't processed the incident at the club. But he had also known that asking about it would have been pointless, as he had been more certain of the answer than of his own name.

"I'm fine."

She wasn't; he'd seen it the moment she'd entered the room. And when she had clung to him, buried her face in his neck, he had felt her every cell cry out for help.

And the fact that there was nothing he could do was killing him.

A loud whistling from the other side of the prison yard brought Elliot out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes. Some of the prisoners had gathered around one prisoner, and they were clearly looking at something. Elliot wasn't sure why his interest was piqued, but suddenly he found his feet carrying him towards the small group.

One of the prisoners was holding something, which looked like some kind of piece of paper, and the other prisoners were whistling, licking their lips and grinning at each other. Elliot squinted to get a closer look at what was on the paper, but then Bull spotted him and exclaimed:

"Look, we piqued Pretty Boy's interest! Do you want to see something even prettier?"

Elliot didn't answer, for some reason a bad feeling began to curl through his veins. Without waiting for an answer, however, Bull yanked the paper from the other prisoner's hand, ignored the irritated protest, and handed it to Elliot. He took it in his hand without looking at it and asked with a frown:

"What's this?"

"I think you recognize it."

And when Elliot turned his eyes to the paper in his hand, his blood froze in his veins, and all the air felt escaping his lungs.

No.

It was Olivia.

It was his picture. His picture, which had been torn up so that only Olivia was visible in the picture.

"Such a cupcake, isn't she? And I've heard you know her. I wouldn't mind having fun with her, so if you have her contact info, I…"

Bull reached out to take the picture back, but then Elliot, who had been standing frozen, ears buzzing, jerked his hand out of his reach.

"No."

Bull's body tensed, his mouth tightened, and he narrowed his eyes as he asked in a low voice: "No? Is she your girlfriend?"

"No."

"So she's your wife? The mother of your children?"

Elliot's mouth began to dry, but he shook his head. "No."

"So, she's not your property, so that means she's available," an ominous grin began to flicker across Bull's face, and Elliot felt anger start to burn inside him.

"She's not property," his voice started to drop as he glared at Bull, but then one of the prisoners grabbed the picture from his hand and retreated back to the other prisoners before Elliot could grab him. Only the instinct of self-preservation prevented him from tackling him.

"She's so sexy, what's her name?" One of the prisoners asked. "Look at those big brown eyes… And those boobs… I wonder what it would be like to tie her to the bed, listen to her scream and fuck the hell out of her…"

But Elliot didn't hear the end of his sentence, because suddenly he found himself back at the club, heard his partner's screams under Mr. Reed, heard the clink of his unbuckled belt, saw her torn dress, saw her face.

So panicked.

So helpless.

And then he snapped. He took two steps forward, and before the prisoner could do anything, he had punched him in the face, and he fell to the ground. There was a sound from the prisoner's nose, and Elliot recognized it; it was the same sound that came from a broken nose, and he didn't care. He was on top of the prisoner, letting him taste his fist again and again, and suddenly the prisoner had Mr. Reed's face, the same grin, the same lustful eyes, and that only gave him more power. The shouts around him blended into one indistinct noise, there was a voice of a whistle somewhere, and then he was pulled further away. He tried to resist but the arms pulling him were too strong, so he turned, he was about to give the same treatment to the person behind him, but then he felt a strong a blow to the back of his head.

And then everything went black.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Olivia and Cragen sat in the car on their way to see Elliot for the second time, the atmosphere was almost the opposite of what it had been a week before. Although Olivia was tense, hope was bubbling inside her as her captain parked the car in the prison parking lot.

This time they had good news.

The forensic investigation had finally found evidence that the surveillance camera footage from the club's restroom had been edited. They didn't know how yet, but it was the first step toward proving Elliot's innocence, the first tangible progress in weeks.

They passed the first security check, and as Cragen went to announce who they were coming to see, Olivia eyed the other visitors. Some of them looked happy, some looked sad, and she wondered what it would be like to visit a loved one they knew to be guilty.

But then the tone of Cragen's voice caught her attention, and she stepped closer to hear more closely.

"What do you mean 'you can't meet him'? We have arranged a meeting for today!"

Olivia felt her heart skip a beat and, and she moved next to her captain.

"What's happening? She asked Cragen, but the warder in charge of visiting hours shook her head and replied:

"I'm sorry ma'am, I don't know the reason, but it says here that your husband is not available at the moment."

"He's not…" Olivia started, but then decided it was pointless to correct her. "Where is he then? Has he been transferred? Or has…" Panic began to squeeze her throat. "Has something happened?"

The warder just shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't know."

"Well, can you ask someone?" Olivia's voice started to rise, but the warder just looked at her as if she wasn't interested in the matter at all.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but there's nothing I can do. Next!"

And then Cragen pulled her aside, promised in a low voice that he would call the prison warden right away, and started typing on his phone, and Olivia couldn't do anything.

It was the moment before panic would take over her every cell.

It was the moment when her mind was completely numb.

It was the moment when her consciousness was still trying to protect her from the truth that was slowly but inexorably catching up with her.

From the chance that they were late.

From the chance that they had lost Elliot.

That she had lost her El.