XXXIII:

It was all too much. The news story, McCoy threatening to suspend him, Olivia's stony face as he'd refused to explain himself – because how could he explain his inexplicable sense of guilt, the conscience of a lawyer who had been built on destroying others? – and now this…

"Diaz," he barked at the desk attendant. "Catalina Diaz – she came in with Olivia Benson, my wife. I'm Rafael Barba, her grandson – power of attorney –"

"Room 1405," the attendant said gently. "Mr. Barba –"

"Who is her doctor?" he demanded.

"Mr. Barba, Dr. Schwartz is already with your wife," the attendant said.

He nodded and broke into a jog, the cold sweat increasing along with the sick feeling in his gut. Liv was barely speaking to him, but he was glad he had slaved over medical decisions to her as well, because she was able to act in his stead in an emergency. He rounded the corner and was halted by a closed door. He knocked twice, then went in without waiting for a response.

Liv was barely pulled together – yoga pants, a sports bra and an oversized t-shirt that was sliding off one shoulder, and her slip on running shoes – her hair a messy tangle. It was obvious that she'd been unprepared for what had happened, and had been settled in for a day with Noah. Speaking of, where was their son?

"Noah?" he croaked.

"Carisi," she whispered, her voice hoarse from tears. "Rafa…"

"What –"

"A stroke," Liv murmured, shaking her head. "She's been slipping away –"

"You called mami?"

"I sent Fin to pick her up, but they won't get here in time," she whispered. "I am so sorry, my love – I am so sorry –"

"It's not your fault," Rafael said, the words hollow as they left his lips. He looked at the doctor, frowning. "Can I have a moment with her?"

"Yes, of course," the doctor said. "Her monitors are connected to my phone. Mrs. Barba, if you'll join me in the corridor –"

As soon as Olivia was gone, he settled in at Catalina's bedside and held her hand. "I know what you think of me – what you've thought since the allegations came to light. It isn't a game or a joke, it's about protecting a child who couldn't protect themselves, abuelita. I did something a long time ago to get a conviction that cost her mother her life and I've been trying to pay reparations for it ever since. The shame that I feel, the guilt… it eats me alive from the inside. I have done so many things in the name of the law that I am not proud of – and where is justice in all of it?" He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I am so sorry – I am so sorry to disappoint you. All I ever wanted was to make you and mami proud: to not be like him."

He looked down at her; her eyes were open the barest tiny slit, but then they closed and her breathing ceased. The monitors began blaring, and the doctor and Liv came back into the room, followed soon by several other people.

Rafael was shaking as he pulled his wife into his embrace and held her close. "I love you," he whispered into her hair, tugging her into the corridor, out to a chair, pulling her onto his lap as he sat down. "I love you – I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"She was fine and then she wasn't," Liv began brokenly. "She had Noah on her lap and then –"

"No, don't," he said softly. "Don't remember her like that. Remember her for everything she did for him, not like that. She loved him with every fiber of her being, Liv – her little amigo." He caressed her back, pressed his eyes closed, managed to hold the tears at bay. "I never slept with the girl. Ashtonja. You know that, right?"

"You send her grandmother money every month out of our account," Liv said very quietly. "What am I supposed to think, Rafael? Is she yours?"

He hesitated a moment; a reasonable conclusion under normal circumstances, but these weren't normal circumstances, and he thought she knew him well enough to know the answer to that question. "Olivia," he said, "you know that I earned my reputation by doing whatever it took to win my case. Until I met you and you softened my edges a bit, that is."

"Yes," she said. "But you're still a hard ass. Mostly an ass."

"Her mother was a witness." He inhaled shakily, then swallowed hard before continuing. "A paralegal that couldn't be traced back directly to my office sourced the drugs she needed to dose up enough to testify. Unfortunately, they were laced and she overdosed and died after testifying. We won the case, but it didn't matter – not when I knew what we'd done. I've been doing my best to make amends ever since. It's not enough: it's never enough. Maybe it would have been worse if her mother had been alive and in the picture, but… it wasn't fair that I took away the chance to find out."

She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Did you tell McCoy?" she whispered.

"He threatened to suspend me. He's still thinking about it."

She inhaled deeply and murmured, "Okay. You know what?"

"Hmm?"

"You really are the best of men, Rafael Barba and I'm so glad I found you," Liv whispered. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, then murmured, "Fuck Jack McCoy. We're going to get out in front of this together. He wants to hit you? We're going to hit back. Yes, you did something ethically questionable but at the same time, you've been going out of your way to make amends for it. I've known about the money for years, I just didn't know where it was going. And now I do. So…"

"They are never going to appoint me now," he groaned. "I fucked up –"

"Is this what you were so worried about them finding?" she asked, wiping away the tears he didn't realize were coursing down his cheeks until they were gone. "Rafa… we all make mistakes. We're only human. Maybe what happened wasn't lawful, but everything you've attempted to follow through has been just. I wish you would have just told me, though – after all this time, it makes me feel sad that you don't trust me."

"I do trust you," he sighed. "I just… I didn't want you to be ashamed of having chosen me."

"Never," she whispered, threading her fingers with his, holding his hand tightly. "How could I ever be ashamed of you, Rafael?"

"I told her… just before she went," he said. "I couldn't let her go, thinking I was one of those monsters. So I let her think I was no better than –"

"Hey," she said, redirecting his self-loathing quickly, "you are not him. Okay? You could never be him. You love too much and too deeply – you care, Rafa. You care about people and issues and… and us. You are not your father; you are nothing like him. Do you hear me?" She exhaled shakily and murmured calmingly, "What can we do for Ashtonja that will look less self-serving and more… open?"

He thought for a moment and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Think about it?" she suggested. "Something that we can present as an idea to other people because it will look less self-interest and more inclusive. We can bring the squad on-board. I can talk to survivors' funds. Just… breathe. It's not all over yet."

"I wanted to be a judge," he said quietly. "Fuck, I wanted it all."

"All?" she echoed.

"You, a family, the bench," he exhaled roughly. "Should've known I couldn't have it."

"Don't you dare give up yet." She tugged on his hair lightly and he grunted in response. "I'm not going anywhere and neither is our son. Just concentrate on fighting the good fight, okay? But right now… just let it out, Rafi. Just cry."

His mother and Fin found them that way a few minutes later; Rafael's face was buried in Liv's ribcage as he wept, and Liv was caressing his head, running her long fingers through his hair. "She's gone," Liv said quietly. "She'll be taken to the ME's for autopsy in accordance with her will –"

Rafael pulled back, reaching up to swipe at his face. "Mami," he rasped.

Lucia stared at him, daggers in her gaze. "I'm surprised she allowed you in the room."

"Lucia, I know reporters have come to talk to you –"

"No comment is the only comment I will make about my son and his proclivities," Lucia snapped.

"For god's sake, I didn't – Liv, will you please –" Rafael gestured rudely at his mother. Fin raised an eyebrow, clearly not knowing what was going on and not about to get involved if he didn't have to.

"He didn't sleep with Ashtonja Abreu," Liv said, her tone firm. "And we'll talk about this later. Right now, all you need to know is that."

"This is above my pay grade," Fin commented dryly.

"Fin," Liv said, "I need you to call Carisi and make sure my kid is still alive."

The corner of Rafael's mouth ticked up into a smile; it felt wrong, somehow, to be smiling. Fin immediately Facetimed Carisi, who had Noah on video within seconds. The toddler was wandering around Carisi's parent's living room, mumbling nonsense words and pointing excitedly at the toys that the other kids had left behind. "He's alive, Liv," Sonny said with a little grin. "Ma's gonna make him some noodles for lunch."

"Thank you, Dominick," Rafael said, his voice hoarse from weeping.

"No problem, Barba – you need me to do anything, just lemme know… we can bring food over or call the special cleaners or –"

Liv stiffened in his arms and on his lap; he held her closer, knowing how hard it was. The last time, it had been the entire apartment and nothing had been salvageable. "I think it's just the recliner we'll have to replace," she said quietly. "Maybe we should invest in a leather one over cloth – it would be easier to clean if something happened again."

"We can talk about that later," Rafael said. "But yes, we need to haul away the recliner. Tomorrow. Not today."

"We'll handle it," Fin said. "You guys have enough to worry about."

Lucia sighed. "You cannot expect us to –"

"They're family, mami," Rafael reminded her curtly. "They want to help us. I am not pushing them away now. Not now."

The medical team finally came out of the room and the doctor led Lucia away to speak to her quietly. Then he came back to confer briefly with Rafael and Liv. Finally, tired and overwhelmed, the family was driven home by Fin. The house was too quiet without Noah and Catalina to fill it with the noises of family; Lucia went upstairs to take a nap, while Liv and Rafael collapsed in pained exhaustion on the sofa, listening to the inane droning of the news on the TV as they clung to each other for comfort.

"So I stopped a reporter this morning from running a thing," Connie said, dropping dramatically into the guest seat across from his desk.

"Carmen!" Rafael roared.

"Sorry," Carmen said, poking her head into the office, "she just kind of shoved her way in."

He glared at the Deputy Mayor and muttered, "Just because I don't hate you doesn't mean you can barge into my office without an appointment and harass me."

"What are you doing here anyway?" she asked, picking up his nameplate and examining it before putting it back down again. "Shouldn't you be helping with your grandmother's funeral arrangements?"

"Olivia and mami have that under control," he said. "And Carmen is helping with the travel arrangements for the out of towners."

"You shouldn't be working."

"What story did you squash, Constance?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose with annoyance, taking off his glasses and tossing them onto the desk.

"I was asked to comment about whether or not I was aware that the EADA for the Southern District was a pedophile who paid for sexual favors," Braga said. "Her name is Ashtonja Abreu, by the way, in case you needed to know –"

"What paper?" he asked.

"The Independent."

"Which reporter?"

"Jimmy Mac, but god knows he's trying to stay under the radar so he could be using any one of a dozen covers," she replied. "I know you better than that, Barba, so what's the truth?"

"The truth doesn't matter because McCoy is handing down my suspension when I go on bereavement leave and I've already lost the judicial appointment," he said with a shrug. "So why bother?"

"Because you're not a pedophile and you don't pay for sex, unlike half the assholes in this god-forsaken town," she said, picking at some invisible lint on her skirt. "Does Olivia know what's going on?"

"Yeah," Rafael said with a sigh, fiddling with his cufflinks nervously. "She said some nonsense about me being the best of men and she doesn't get that I fucked up and now I'm paying for it."

Connie got up and strode over to the office door and said, "Carmen? Hold his calls. Except Liv and Lucia. If this goes longer than fifteen minutes, bring coffee and knock on the door." She closed it, then came back and sat down again. "So you fucked up. We all fuck up. You think I haven't shit the bed a few times? Talk to me, Rafael."

"Why?" he scoffed.

"Because I'm not going to hold my punches."

He took a deep breath and muttered, "Fine. I was prosecuting a case and my witness was getting uneasy about testifying. I was afraid her issues were going to prevent her from testifying and the entire case hinged on it; so, I did something completely unethical and wrong and… she died as a result."

"Okay, are we talking like… manslaughter or assisted suicide or –"

He hesitated, then muttered, "She was an addict and we allowed her to testify under the influence. She overdosed on tainted drugs."

Connie was speechless for a moment, then said, "Shit."

"Yeah."

"Did you supply the drugs?"

"I did not, but I was aware of it." It was a lie of omission, but it would have to do to convince her; she was the Deputy Mayor, for the love of god.

"Okay. Well…"

"And because I felt guilty for my part in her mother's death, I've been paying Ashtonja Abreu a stipend monthly through her grandmother ever since," he said very quietly.

The silence was deafening. When it was broken, it was only for Braga to say, "Does your wife know?"

"Yes. She knew about the money, but I didn't tell her what it was until a few days ago." It was difficult for him to stay unemotional when all he wanted to do was give in to the anger and the shame that plagued him. "I don't know how to get past this, Connie. I fucked up."

She shrugged and said, "So what? You're human. And you're trying to do the right thing by this kid."

"I'm trying to stop feeling guilty."

"You didn't make her mother take the drugs," Braga said.

"No, but I as good as supplied them."

"Did you win the case?"

"Yes."

"Was he a really bad dude, Rafi? The kind you need to put away, rather than want to?"

"Are you asking me if the needs justified the ends?" he asked, his brow drawn together.

"No, what I'm asking you is if you had to make the decision again to put him away, hindsight firmly in place, would you do it the same way?" Constance asked, her voice softening.

Rafael paused for a long time, thinking about the case, all of the information long ago burned into his brain because he had refused to see the alternative. And even then, years later, there was no other way it could have gone. His shoulders slumped. "I couldn't have won without her testimony," he said very quietly. "I don't know what I could have done differently."

"Then stop beating yourself up and live in the now," Connie advised.

"I'm going to be suspended for a month, if not two," he sighed, "and I'm going to lose the bench because of –"

"Because of being human? Because you're a genuinely good guy who has a fucking heart?" she challenged. "Olivia is your biggest asset here. Use her. She knows, and so do you – so does the person who supplied the drugs. So track down that motherfucker and get your story straight. And jump out in front of the press like it's a goddamn bus, Barba. Do you know what this country needs?"

"An infusion of people of intelligence?" he asked.

"Besides that," she sighed.

"No," he said. "What does it need."

"People who understand that the law is infallible. That justice isn't always just. That sometimes, having a heart and a conscience is grounds for change," Connie said softly. "We appoint too many people to the bench who have given up their humanity in favor of being a slave to law and order – to the detriment of everyone."

"What do you expect me to do?" he asked with a sigh.

She raised an eyebrow as a knock came at the office door. "I expect you not to get kicked in the balls for your lunch money, Rafael."

He knew that most of his family had probably seen the news story last night if they had been together at the hotel; he and Liv had made a statement at 1 Hogan Place, together, and taken questions, both about the Ashtonja Abreu accusations and the judicial committee, and while Liv had been defensive of him and his reputation, he had finally had it with the intrusive nature of the questions. Many of them had nothing to do with the subjects at hand and tread the borderline of breaching attorney-client privilege as well as current cases. He remained calm, but only just so, instead going slyly on the attack, undermining the very nature of their questions.

But he knew that his large family would have questions of their own at the wake – and then, later, the funeral. So he was glad to have Olivia at his side, as always, and Noah in his arms – almost as a shield. At least until Lucia stole him away, anyhow.

"Everyone will start to arrive soon," Liv said softly, straightening his collar, smiling just a little, the light not reaching her eyes. Not like before, like just a while earlier when they had been fucking in earnest in the bathroom as they'd been getting dressed and ready to come downstairs, bodies slapping together, kisses hot and eager, passions rising. "Try to play nice –"

"Olivia, what's wrong?" Rafael asked softly, his fingertips digging into the soft knit of her dress at her waist.

"She's never going to know how wonderful Noah is," she said very quietly.

"She's always known," he replied, looking at the little boy in his denim overalls and burgundy shirt, smiling just a little. Noah grinned back and tucked his tired face into his dad's shoulder, cuddling up for a nap. "You think she's not looking down right now, passing commentary on my clothes?"

"You look very handsome," Liv murmured. "So much so I couldn't resist."

"Hey," he said softly, his voice lowering to a gentle almost-purr, "marry me?"

"You're a little late: I'm already married to the best of men," she whispered.

He kissed her gently and replied, "Guess we'll just have to have a torrid affair then."

"Yes, please." The doorbell rang and she pulled away from him. "I'll get that – it'll be your mom and some of the cousins."

"Or your squad."

It turned out to be neither; instead, Constance Braga and her small security detail swept into the house. "Cute kid," Connie said, gesturing at Noah.

"Thanks," Liv said. "We like him."

"I should hope so," Connie said with a smirk. She was tapping a rolled up newspaper against her hand, waiting for her security to clear the place. "Are we good or what, yo? I don't think these fuckers wanna kill me. Barba's my homie."

"Clear, ma'am."

"Thank god," Braga muttered. "I'm surrounded by idiots. Nice to see you, Liv."

"What do you want, Constance? My family is coming for abeulita's wake any minute," Rafael sighed.

"Well, obviously, I'm staying for that," Connie said indignantly, "but first and foremost, you need to see tomorrow's early edition." She handed him the newspaper and he looked at a headline below the fold that was an op-ed about his press conference and where the future of judicial legislation seemed to be heading, as well as judicial appointments. She smirked at him. "Ginsberg likes you, asshole. You might not get this one, but she as good as endorsed you for the next one. So don't fuck up again."

He was barely breathing. "Did you call in a favor?"

"I might have threatened someone with something and they called in a favor," Braga replied, pressing her lips together into a thin line. "Nothing illegal, mind you, but I have incriminating shit on a few motherfuckers. So this was nothing. And people remember your name now – and the good you're doing. But you're human, too."

Liv was holding his elbow, steadying him. "Rafa?"

"I'm still suspended for a month," he muttered.

"So what? Cuddle your kid and read those books you keep putting off," Connie said. "And fuck your wife. It'll be good times!"

TBC...