XXXII:

It happened so fast, she wasn't entirely certain what had happened. Johnny Drake flipped the table, laid out the court officer, grabbed his gun and started shooting. It was only when he had trained the gun on her and told her that he wouldn't let her steal his son that Carisi had managed to get off the kill shot from his prone position on the ground, a bullet lodged in his shoulder. That's what she had told Tucker.

The truth was that everything was a disjointed blur. The gun barrel had been shoved in her temple, Johnny D's voice loud in her ear, a shout of rage, Rafael's panic as he had all but screamed her name – shudderingly painful flashbacks of William Lewis making her skin crawl as she attempted to stay sane enough to remain in her body.

And gunshots.

Silence.

Screams.

They were her screams.

She had been the one screaming.

Rafael's arms around her as her knees had given way, blood and brains splattered hot across her face.

All the things she could never tell IAB. But Tucker would push her, test the limits –

"I'm fine," she told Fin and Rollins, but neither one of them believed her. She didn't believe herself. Rafael hovered protectively and she let him; hell, she was thriving on the gesture if only because it meant that someone that understood – that really knew – was there to support her when she inevitably stumbled and fell.

"Olivia," he said softly, "Carisi won't be out of surgery for a while yet. We should go home, check on Noah –"

She swallowed hard, closed her eyes. "He was going to use our son as a reason to get a mistrial –"

"He didn't succeed," he reminded her, pulling her close and nuzzling into her shoulder. "Hey. Hey… it's going to be okay. Liv, mi amor, it's going to be okay." His breath was warm and comforting against her, his embrace soul-lifting. "Noah needs his mami and papi: he's still such a little guy, remember?"

"Liv, go home," Fin said gruffly. "I'll stay here till Carisi's good."

She hesitated, but the urge to go home and hold Noah close, to clutch her son tightly to her chest was so strong she could almost taste it. "I –"

"Liv, it's okay," Rollins assured her. "You need to go hold your baby and love on him." She smiled sadly and said, "Sonny's going to be okay. He'll be pissed if you don't go home, though."

"I just – I feel so guilty –"

"Don't," Amanda said firmly. "You had no idea he was going to go psycho and try to kill everyone. I mean, shit, I hit the floor so fast –"

"Yeah, you're pregnant, of course you did," Fin snapped.

Liv gaped at her. "You're pregnant?"

"Well, thanks, Fin," Rollins muttered. "So much for keeping it quiet for a few more days till I could figure out a good way to break the bad news to the boss."

Olivia exhaled roughly, her breath catching in her throat; she had only been the boss a couple of days, since Murphy had gone back undercover who knew how long on another covert op. And she didn't know how long her tenure would last before someone else would come in to edge her out. Word was that a new Bureau Chief was about to be appointed, and she wasn't sure at all how that would play out – least of all since she had just taken her Lieutenant's exam and was awaiting the results with no small amount of frustrated anxiety. "Amanda, congratulations," Liv said quietly. "I mean, I assume this is a good thing –"

"I… I don't know, honestly," Rollins said. "It's complicated."

Liv nodded and reached over to gently stroke her arm. "We know all about that," she reminded her. "And there is no better family to support you than this one."

Rollins smiled, tears creeping into her eyes. "Yeah, I know," she agreed. "I… thank you, Liv. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"But you'd better get home," Amanda insisted quietly. "Hug that little guy."

Rafael's arm around her waist was both comforting and irritating; she wasn't sure if she needed his support or just wanted it for selfish reasons. But the way he leaned into her, breathing shakily, showed her that he needed her reassurance and a comfort in a way that he wasn't willing to admit or show to the others. "Yeah, we need to go home," she agreed very quietly.

He led her away without a word, to a car that waited downstairs for them. The trip home was soberingly quiet, both wrapped up in their pain, their emotional grief from the day, until he finally said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she whispered, squeezing his hand across the endless expanse of the back seat.

"I made things worse," he said. "And – and we can't –"

"You didn't," she promised. The briefest flash of Johnny D turning the gun on the gallery – on Rafael – before she had forced him to point the gun back at her, before he had slammed the muzzle of the gun against her temple, threatening to end her life and take back his son… "I did, Rafa. It's fine. You didn't – you didn't do anything." His voice, cutting through the air, her name a panicked shout on his lips – OLIVIA – her fingers clenched in reflex, twitching of their own accord, digging into his forearm.

"I made sure all the deals were struck down," he said very quietly. "That's why he wanted to shoot me. You stopped him. And he was going to kill you, Liv – do you know… do you understand –"

The shaky anguish in his voice made her heart lurch, and she held onto him tighter. "Yeah," she breathed. "I do." Because if he died, she would struggle to open her eyes, let alone do anything substantial. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she went first. It was a constant risk, and she updated her will every few months to make sure things were good, but –

The seat suddenly seemed far too large of an expanse between them; she slid over and into the warmth of his loose embrace, huddled against his torso, glad to feel the heavy beating of his heart through his ribcage. "When we get home, you should get a shower," Rafael advised softly.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I… I still have brains and skull in my hair."

He tried to hide a smile, but failed. "Perks of being a badass."

"I would think it would be a failing," she teased.

He exhaled and murmured, "Nothing about you is a failure, Liv."

"That's nice of you to say, but we both know it's far from the truth," she breathed, tucking her face into his shoulder and closing her eyes, trying to concentrate on how good it felt to be in his arms, rather than how badly the day could have gone.

"I love you," he said simply.

She remained silent, not wanting to argue with him, and rested in the comfort of his embrace until they reached the house. Once out of the car and inside, they smelled the delicious smells of abuelita's cooking and heard the noises of a happy household – almost too much to bear after the day they had endured.

"You go on up and shower," Rafael said softly, helping her out of her jacket and hanging it up. "I'll make sure everything is all right down here and then come up."

Her face crumpled and she held back a broken noise with what felt like superhuman effort – only to have his arms come around her again in a show of strength that she knew he couldn't possibly feel. Anything to give her the support she needed to keep going: her Rafa was so good at that. And yet, she felt like she could never live up to the effort he was putting in – no matter what she did, she would never be enough.

"Liv?"

She inhaled shakily, exhaled roughly, choked out, "I don't know how you love me."

He paused, blinked down at her, stunned. "I don't understand."

"You're too good for me, Rafael – and you're going to realize it one of these days."

"That's not going to happen," he promised, reaching for her. "Hey – we'll go up together, okay? Get a shower, clean up… come downstairs and pretend everything is okay."

"I –"

He gently led her upstairs and helped her undress, then pulled her into the bathroom and started the shower. He shucked off his own clothes and joined her under the spray, helping her wash away the day and the pain they both felt. He didn't ask for anything in return, didn't hesitate, didn't push.

She was glad of it. She wasn't sure she could live with herself if she pushed him away.

She didn't remember the dream, but she remembered the feeling of utter terror as she jerked awake, sending Rafael reeling backward as she did. "Liv, it's okay, it's just me," he said quickly, reaching out to touch her, to ground her, and she gasped for breath, leaning into him. "It's just me, amor."

She couldn't make her mouth form words, could hardly breathe a normal rhythm, could barely eke out her noises of distress, but he was there, comforting her, holding her, whispering against her skin, peppering kisses against her temple and hair. "Olivia, it's okay," Rafael promised. "Just breathe. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

She tangled her fingertips in his shirt, refusing to let go. The only lingering feeling from the night terror was the total absence of his presence, and she could not bear it. God, she could not bear to let him go now. From the moment Johnny Drake had pointed the gun at him in the courtroom, she had been hellbent on keeping him safe, protected, even at the cost of her own life, her own sanity – and she couldn't let him go now.

"I've got you," he whispered. "Liv, I've got you. It's okay."

"Don't go," she pleaded.

"Not going anywhere," he promised. "I'm right here."

"I can't do this by myself, Rafa," she choked out. "I can't think about a life without you. I don't want to raise Noah without you. I don't want to wake up without you. I can't –"

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere, Livvie. Hey, look at me, mi amor. Hey, there's my bad ass…" He smiled just a little. "I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going anywhere. Today was terrifying, but – you… you were braver than I ever could be."

"I need you," she said, her voice thick and clumsy in her mouth. She didn't want him for sex, but for intimacy, to hold her and assure her that she would be all right – to chase away the demons that plagued her in the darkness.

"I'm right here," he answered, wrapping her up in his embrace, pulling her under the covers and holding her loosely. "I'm not going anywhere."

Noah's adoption went through without a hitch and they threw a small, intimate party for their friends and family. The little boy was thrilled to see everyone and Liv and Rafael were able to exhale a small sigh of relief that he was really, truly their son at last: no take back-sies. From the moment they had signed all of the paperwork, he was Noah Porter Barba, and it was binding in a way that made Liv's heart sing with happiness.

Rafael had been a proud papi before, but now, he was in his element: he toted Noah from guest to guest, showing off his son in his little white shirt, tan pants, and red and blue suspenders – and his little sneakers because he loved them and given half a chance to get down and run his little unsteady run, he would escape in a heartbeat and go find abuela. Liv watched him with a small smile, all the while his grin widening and his speech speeding up as he jabbered excitedly about the trip they were planning to go to the Petting Zoo in Central Park for Noah's benefit, wondering if he would have been so thrilled with Eva, if it had been their daughter instead of a stranger's son that they had taken into their lives as their own. She didn't realize that she had spilled her drink on her dress until Amanda came over and said, "Liv, you okay?"

"Fine – didn't sleep well last night," Liv dismissed softly. "Then this today…"

"None of us slept well," Rollins said. "Johnny D –"

"Is dead," Liv countered firmly, "and I need to go change. I'm sorry – I'll be right back." She headed out of the room, ignoring the quiet titter of conversation that followed her exit, and ran upstairs. She knew if she didn't get the wine out of her dress quickly, it would set the stain, but she couldn't be bothered to really give a fuck. She just sat on the edge of the bed, head in her hands, overwhelmed and shaky.

There was a knock on the door, then Rafael came in, Noah on his hip. "Hey, mami, we just wanted to make sure our favorite girl is okay," he said softly.

She shook her head and said, "I don't know what I am. I need to change."

"Okay – what do you want me to get?"

"Your hoodie and some yoga pants, but that's not nice for Noah's party pictures," she said sadly.

"Screw the pictures," he said, putting Noah down on the bed. He went to the dresser and got out one of her tank tops she used for workouts, one of his Harvard hoodies, and her favorite pair of yoga pants while Noah crawled over and snuggled up to her, content to just exist next to her. "All of this is special because we're together, not because we have nice shit, Liv. Not because we look good. I would take a picture of us looking like we rolled out of a garbage can if we were smiling – because we're happy, damn it."

Noah blew a spit bubble and hummed excitedly, making grabby hands at his father.

"I see he's firmly cemented in the loving you today," she commented.

"He'll be all over you again once you're comfy," he pointed out. "He didn't like the way your dress felt." His lips twitched into a little smile. "Can't say I blame him: it was all scratchy and stiff and –"

"Rafael!"

"Cheap," he added.

"Linen isn't cheap," she growled. "I'll have you know that's the $250 dress I got at Nordstrom last week."

He flinched. "Well… I wonder how much we can get for it at the consignment shop," he muttered, "because like hell we're keeping it."

"You liked it this morning," she shot back.

"Before I realized how scratchy it was," he countered, laughing as she stripped down and shimmied into her comfortable clothes instead. Noah immediately launched into her arms and made his happy little noises that were almost words, rubbing his face against her chest contentedly and trying to hug her even though his arms were nowhere near long enough to fit around her. "See how happy he is now? All we had to do was make mami soft again."

"Oh my god, Barba, you are such an ass," Liv spat, glaring at him, even though she was smiling and petting their son's curly, unruly dark hair. "I love you but you are really a dick."

"I could wax poetic about all your soft bits if you'd like –" He was grinning mischievously, his eyebrows waggling in a suggestive manner, his eyes gleaming with delight and a little bit of desire that he couldn't check, and she found herself thanking the universe that she had found Rafael Barba. Out of everyone in the world who could have loved her, she had found the one man who complemented her almost perfectly.

"Maybe later, after this little man is asleep," Liv said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Noah's head. "Sorry about wasting the money on the stupid dress."

"We'll get it cleaned and try to resell it – it's not a big deal," he said. "Maybe Rita knows someone who wouldn't mind having it for work? I don't know. We could put it up on eBay if nothing else. It's fine." He took the dress into the bathroom and ran some water in the sink, making some noise as he continued talking about nothing in particular, then appeared a couple minutes later. "So, it's soaking and hopefully that will come out, otherwise, whatever. Ready to go back downstairs?"

"And face the judgement of our friends?" she asked, making a face.

"And let Noah play with his abuelita and abuela," he countered.

"Noah, you've been such a good little man today – you deserve some cake," Liv murmured. The little boy perked up, craning his neck to peer up at her in excitement. "But lunch first. Abuela made you picadillo and flatbread, sweetie." Noah smacked his lips together and made a humming noise. "Yeah, nummy, little man – let's go have some lunch." Liv smiled over at Rafael and murmured, "I swear, his first word is going to be abuela."

He was smiling, too, tears in his eyes. "No," he said softly, "his first word is going to be mamá. I bet you dinner at Elysium."

She hesitated, swallowed hard. "You can't promise something like that, Rafael."

"I'm taking you there anyway," he said firmly. "My beautiful wife deserves the best."

Liv stood up, Noah still cradled against her torso, tears in her eyes as she said, "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't need all that fancy shit, Rafa? I just need you and Noah."

He sighed and shook his head. "I'm not going to argue with you. Let's go eat – mami will be cranky if all the food she made doesn't get eaten."

She confronted him with the envelope the next day; it was a manila envelope, casually torn open, but one bit had ripped more than the other, leaving a massive jagged edge. "When were you going to tell me?" Liv demanded.

"Olivia –"

"Judicial appointments don't just happen every day, Rafael –"

"No, they don't," he agreed. "There's a process, a vetting process, and I'm not likely to get through it, so I didn't want to celebrate prematurely. It's just family court anyway, and a pity appointment, not like I was a first choice or anything: Judge Carter died and they need a replacement until the next cycle. So, no, I'm not holding my breath."

"But, Rafael –"

"Liv," he countered, reaching out to snatch the envelope out of her hands, "it's better to keep my feet firmly on the ground. I'm the Chief ADA for the Southern District. We're the parents of a fantastic little boy who is ours for good now. I don't have time for dreams that aren't going to come to fruition anymore."

She stared at him, tears in her eyes as he shut down in front of her. "Rafael," she protested softly, "this isn't a dream – this is something that's happening right now –"

"Yeah, and I'm not the only one being vetted," he countered. "I've done some things, Liv. Some shit I'm ashamed of, and some things that I'm not ashamed of but maybe I should be. And when it comes out, are you going to stand beside me or are you going to be like everyone else and tell the world how wrong I am?"

"Is that what you think of me?" she asked.

"I think that sometimes, you let your angels and demons fight it out in public and the people you love suffer for it," he admitted quietly. "It doesn't mean I don't love you any less, but it doesn't mean that I don't trust you to always do right by me, either. We aren't the same person, Liv, and we don't always agree. And I know that. I just…"

"You don't trust me."

"I trust you with my life," he said quickly. "And my heart. And my well-being."

"But not this."

"The absolution of my soul? I don't even trust myself with that," he scoffed. "Let them crucify me. Just help me pick up the pieces after, okay?"

She hesitated, then moved to rub his back. "You know I will," Liv whispered. "Rafael…"

He exhaled roughly, then muttered, "If by some miracle I pull this off, and the appointment comes through…"

"We'll have a quiet night in and dance till dawn," she promised.

He let out a quiet noise of assent mixed with defeat, leaning into her touch, letting her soothe him.

TBC...