XXXIX:

Liv watched Connie across the table; the Deputy Mayor was uncharacteristically quiet, her fingers clutching a coffee mug in the non-descript diner down the way from the precinct as they were accompanied by her couple of security guards. "You okay?" Liv asked.

Braga shook herself and dragged her attention back to the table. "No, yeah, I'm… tired, sorry," she murmured. "It's been a rough couple of days. How are you, Rafi, and Noah?"

"Noah is starting pre-school next week," Liv said with a small smile. "Lucy is excited to be able to free up part of her days –"

"As she should be," Connie replied, still very subdued.

"Connie, you sure you're okay?" Liv asked. "You don't seem –" Looking a little closer, she noticed the woman's skin was paler than normal, dark circles under her eyes that her makeup couldn't quite disguise, and just an overall… wrongness about her.

Connie sighed. "I'm almost through my second round of chemo," she said. "Not that it's doing anything. Stage four bone cancer; it's already metastasized in my lung, my spleen, and my liver. Chemo is palliative at best."

Olivia blinked at her; the tone of her voice was so calm, her delivery of the chilling diagnosis so clinical that it left her sick to her stomach and pushing away her coffee. "How long have you known?" she asked.

"Long enough," Connie said. "Long enough to decline to run for Mayor. Long enough to make preparations for my family and friends. Long enough to wish I had done more with my life and made better choices in some regards." She smiled sadly.

"Does Fin know?" Liv asked.

"Yeah… he's pissed I haven't told anyone," she admitted quietly. "I can't tell Rafael. It'll be like I shot his damn puppy."

"He doesn't have a puppy."

"You know what I mean. He'll try to be stoic and then he'll be like a heartbroken little boy and I can't do that to him." Connie sighed and tugged at her earlobe self-consciously. "Fin asked me to marry him and I said no. Not when I'm dying. I don't want him to do that and feel like he has to take on that burden because he feels sorry for me. I understand he loves me and I love him; that's a real thing and it's important, I know. But… I don't want him to feel that a piece of paper saying we're legally tied together makes that any more valid than a piece of paper from my lawyer saying he's the executor of my will and he gets the majority of my shit. It's all emotionally damaging. It all hurts. He shouldn't bear the burden."

Liv pursed her lips together, refrained for a moment, then whispered, "Connie… you ever think for a second that he's offering to bear the burden because he loves you? Fin isn't an easy man to know, and for him to offer his heart to you when you're both suffering unimaginable pain –"

Tears welled up in Braga's eyes and she looked down at the table. "I don't want to hurt him," she said.

"You aren't," Liv promised. "He's offering. He knows what he's doing."

Connie frowned and reached up to touch her hair, seemingly self-consciously, then mumbled, "Promise me you'll look after him, Liv. Please."

"You know I will," Olivia said gently, leaning over the table to hold Connie's hand. "He's had my six for a long time, Connie – it's about time I repaid the favor. Anything he needs, I'm on it. It's what partners do."

"I don't know how to tell Rafi."

"Just be honest. He knew something was wrong when you didn't start campaigning, but he's had a full docket and not a lot of time to drag you out and torture you for information," Liv said dismissively. "He's worried, but not overly so. I think you should just sit him down and tell him."

Connie exhaled a tired sigh. "Are you ready for what happens when I do?"

Liv paused, frowning. "No. But… I don't think it matters anymore. All we can do is be here to support each other. And you. Just tell me what you need."

Casey stepped into Liv's office and shut the door firmly behind her. "So, I assume you saw the news?" she said in a clipped tone.

Liv slid her glasses down her nose so she could look over the rims. "What news?"

"Well, I was supposed to have a lunch meeting with the Deputy Mayor… it's a little difficult to conduct a meeting with said official when they've resigned from office effective immediately with no warning," Casey sniped. "The Mayor's office is offering no comment and sent me packing right back to my office without so much as offering –"

Liv took a deep breath and grabbed her phone. "Casey, shut the fuck up," she snapped, dialing. "Fin? Is she – no, no, okay… Well, call me if anything changes." When she hung up and turned back to her friend the CADA, she slipped off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Connie Braga is very sick," she said quietly. "Dying. Not many people know and she's been trying like hell to keep it that way. She only told me yesterday."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Casey asked, incredulously. "All this time, she's been –"

"Case, c'mon," Liv said softly. "Think of it this way: all your extra work at City Hall that you inherited goes away now with her resignation. The Mayor isn't going to put in the legwork to keep up those policies. They were Connie's pet projects."

"I didn't actually mind the extra work – it was the amateur theatricality of it that I resented," Casey muttered. "Like it was just a smokescreen to get votes, and then POOF – it would disappear after the election. Like we weren't putting in the work for real, for good. It was a waste of time if it wasn't meaningful."

"Everything Constance Braga does is meaningful," Liv said gently. "You just don't necessarily know why till much later. That's why she's such a bitch, but such a good friend."

"Does your husband know she's dying?" Casey challenged. "They're such good friends –"

"Casey, stop it," Liv muttered, "there is nothing like that between Rafa and Connie. She is Fin's, through and through." She paused, studying Casey. "You really can't stand that he found happiness with someone you despise, can you?"

"I don't despise her –"

"Don't you?"

"Okay, fine… I just think that he deserves more." Casey sighed.

"You two broke up because you both needed space and time apart to process that you wanted different things in your relationship, and now you think you know what he wants?" Liv shot back. "He's moved on, Casey. Get your shit together: jealousy over a dying woman is too low even for you." She sighed. "And now I need my office back so I can call 1PP with a status update, if you don't mind."

When she glanced back after grabbing her desk phone, Casey was already gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

You knew.

The text was flat and accusatory at the same time, two words that cut straight to the quick, inviting her explanation, or at the very least, a response.

Liv fumbled with her phone and called him. "Raf –"

He didn't answer, but she could hear his lightly ragged breathing down the open line as he struggled to find something, anything to say.

"How is she doing?" Liv murmured. "Fin said she wasn't so well earlier."

"She's dying," Rafael said, his voice tight with emotion. "How do you think she is? She's great, Liv – just peachy."

"I understand you're pissed off," Liv said quietly as she put Noah's dinner down in front of him and gently smoothed down his hair. "And you can take it out on me if you want, but I only found out yesterday so it isn't as if I've had much time to process it either." She took a deep breath. "Are you coming home for dinner?"

"Fin ordered something," Rafael dismissed. "You let him take leave without knowing why?"

"He got with Dodds and worked out a thing with his PTO," Liv said. "It went above my pay grade."

"It's good she has someone to help take care of her," he said quietly. "She deserves it. She… had a rough time. This whole having someone give a shit is new."

"I know," she whispered. "We talked about it yesterday a little."

There was muffled conversation on the other side of the line, then Rafael said, "Hey, Liv, Fin wants to talk to you a minute."

"Hey, Liv," Fin said as he took control of the phone. "Don't worry about Barba here – gonna make sure he eats and then I'll put him in a cab and send him home."

"You don't have to do that, Fin," Liv scolded fondly. "You've already got a lot on your plate. How's Connie?"

"She's in hospice now," Fin said with a deep, sad sigh. "Decided it was time finally. She was sleeping when we came back to my place to make sure it didn't smell funny and all the gross shit was out of the fridge."

Liv sighed. "Fin, I'm sorry –"

"Nah, it's okay. Liv, whatever you said to her yesterday, man… I just wanna say thanks."

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true," she said. "Hey, Fin? You'd better eat, too."

"Plannin' on it," he replied.

The phone got passed back to Rafael, who said, "Hey, mi amor… I love you."

"Of course you do," she murmured. "And I love you, hot stuff."

There was a long pause, then he said, "I'm not okay, Livvy."

"I know, Rafa," she whispered. "Me, either. Just come home safe."

"Always," he promised. "I gotta go – the food's here."

She set her phone down on the table and sat down to poke at her rapidly cooling dinner with a fork. It felt like a waste of time and effort to eat, but she did it anyway, then got Noah ready for bed.

She was mid-way through a bedtime story when Rafael got home and helped her finish putting their son to bed. He helped her into her pajamas and she helped him into his, then they crawled into bed together, holding on tightly to one another in the darkness.

"So, hey… if you're watching this, I'm dead and you've sat through my funeral and shit's gotten real very fast," Connie said from the TV screen with a small smile on her lips. She still looked relatively healthy in the video footage, so it had to have been taken before her rapid decline. "Being the good Catholic girl I am, that means I should be in Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory. But I'd rather think there's no great beyond or god or saints or any of that bullshit so I can go back to being stardust and get sucked back up into the universe and look down on all you motherfuckers."

Rafael and Fin started laughing then, and Liv dabbed at the tears that were starting to drip down her cheeks.

"People are going to expect I have a big estate, but I really don't," Connie continued. "And I've already asked Fin to be the executor of my estate, so… don't fuck it up, okay?" She took a deep breath and started reading off several sheets of paper. "I leave my apartment and its contents, and my personal accounts, and investment portfolios to Odafin Tutuola. You know why, Fin. There are further instructions for disbursal of those funds and what to do with the apartment and its contents, should you want to get rid of them. And it's okay if you do. For Noah Porter Barba, I leave a trust totaling $750,000, which will continue to accrue interest." There was another long pause, and she looked like she was struggling for a moment, then Connie continued, "For Rafael Barba and Olivia Benson, my dear friends… I know it isn't much, but when I found out I was sick, I… I had them harvest my eggs and freeze them. I know it's been a struggle for you to create your family, and that Noah was almost a miracle. This is the least I could do for you. Fin can give you the money you need for a surrogate. I just… I want something good to come out of this shit situation. That's it. That's all I have. I don't know how long it's going to be before everything goes to hell and I die a painful death, but I hope to god you fuckers don't desert me in the meanwhile." She pressed her fingertips to her lips, then to the camera lens, then everything went black.

Fin rubbed his chin, clearly struggling to keep it together. "I need a beer," he said tightly.

"Fuck that, I think I need a fifth of Jack," Barba grunted. "We had a conversation in my office months ago about kids and why we didn't have more of 'em, and I thought she was just being insensitive and I had no idea Connie was –"

"My wife thought you an' Liv deserved the world and you got the short stick," Fin said, dragging his hand through his close-cropped hair. "She wanted to give you a fair shake in the end."

"Enough," Liv whispered. "Thank you, Mr. McKeller," she said to the lawyer who had supervised the proceedings. "We'll get out of your hair now." She led the men out into the corridor and to the elevator. "Fin, you know she married you because she loved you. Not because she was scared and in pain. Because she loved you."

"I know," he sighed.

"You can't be mad at her now in retrospect." She turned to Rafael and said, "And I refuse to let you pretend to be noble and sacrifice what she's offered us on an altar of false humility. Okay? Connie knew how many times our dreams have been scattered in the dirt and stepped on and she's given us a precious shining jewel instead."

"Liv –"

"You two think you were the only ones who cared?" she asked. "She was infuriating. But she was my friend, too. Even though I wanted to strangle her most of the time."

It wasn't until much later, maudlin, drunk, and still imbibing alcohol and third rate tacos in Connie's honor, that Fin said, "She hoped she'd have more time. It wasn't supposed to end like this."

"It never is," Liv said.

"I'm never going to die," Rafael swore. "Least not till Oliiiiivia does. Can't live without her, y'see. Not since the day we met. She's so pretty and nice and everybody loves her. But I love her the most."

Liv rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Barba, you're a sloppy drunk," she scolded, swatting his foot off the sofa. "Fin, no more Jack for him."

"Motherfucker drank all the Jack," Fin said with affection-disguised respect. "Wan' another beer, Liv?"

"Nah, all we have is the hoppy shit he gets at Trader Joe's," she grumbled.

"It's not that bad," Fin countered. "Wine?"

"I'm done drinking." She finished her taco and set the plate on the coffee table, leaning over onto the arm of the sofa. "Rafi, no more booze."

Rafael grunted in reply, then nudged her. "You're pretty," he commented.

"You're drunk."

He grinned. "I know. But you're still pretty."

"I don't think either of you are sober enough to tackle the stairs," she commented wryly.

"Are you?" Fin replied with a laugh.

"Oh I'm sleeping in my bed if it kills me," Liv countered. "But I'll get pillows and blankets for you two." To her inebriated amusement, her husband was already snoring by the time she came back with pillows and blankets. She tucked a pillow beneath Rafael's head and gently covered him with a woven cotton blanket, then put a bowl, a bottle of water, and a bottle of acetaminophen on the coffee table for him. She offered Fin the more comfortable recliner as well as a pillow, a blanket, a bowl, and a bottle of water. The bowl was for in case he felt like being sick and couldn't make it to the bathroom in time. After all, there was no telling if the tacos or the alcohol were dodgier.

"Thanks, Liv," Fin said. "For everything."

"Fin," she murmured, "I know it feels like everything is shit right now – and it is. But… it'll get better. And maybe in time, you'll find someone else who can help you heal."

"Shit, man, it's too soon to think about that," Fin said. "I got married a week ago. My wife's been in the ground two days. I can't even wrap my head around it yet."

"I know," she said. "But it's okay when you do. She would want you to be happy, Fin. She only ever wanted you to be happy."

The deep moment was lost by a particularly loud snore emanating from Rafael. Liv immediately turned to glare at him, her nose wrinkling and her upper lip curling into a feral kind of a sneer that made Fin laugh at her obvious disgust.

TBC...