A/N: This story is not forgotten, far from it, these characters often find their way into my thoughts. I'm currently writing chapter 20, and up to 18 has been sitting here untouched since my last update, but I have fallen away from SVU in the last couple of years, for me, it has slightly lost some of its magic. I have felt this way before, when Stabler left I didn't watch for a couple of years before falling back into it just in time for the master stroke that was Surrender Benson. I will finish this story, I rewatched the episode "Facing Demons"(S20E16) again last night and still sobbed my heart out as Cassidy took the stand at the end of the episode, barely keeping the tears at bay on multiple occasions before that. I need an ending to his story, even if it is my own, so this will be finished. Strangely this story is not as personal as some of my others, and yet it is by far the hardest to write.
Thank you for any comments or kudos, on this or any of my other stories, they mean so much and I thrive on the engagement, but being a silent reader(as I, myself, usually am) means no less.
RAFAEL
I'm surprised to say I believe Cassidy when he has says he has no intentions of returning to Dolan's apartment to complete last night's aborted mission.
As I dragged myself into the kitchen for the first of what inevitably, will be an incredibly high caffeine consumption day, I worried about how I would dissuade him from pursuing his own 'justice' against the man who abused him. I worried about how I would stop him from ruining his life by killing the monster who has already taken far too much from him. I worried about the mental, and emotional state of the man and the responsibility I have taken for him when I didn't immediately call the police when I found him armed in that grimy lobby. But when he appeared, unprompted, in the kitchen with a suggestion of speaking to some carefully selected old teammates, it was clear there was no need to worry about him turning vigilante…at least in this moment. The haze of anger and guilt that had led him to that grubby building last night had cleared and the man was thinking like a cop.
Actually he irritated me so much before slipping out the door, it could almost be argued he is his normal self….almost. But his red-rimmed eyes, the dark shadows under them, the uncharacteristic hesitance and passivity, make it clear the man is far from ok. The guilt, shame and self hatred that was so evident last night, is not gone, if anything its grip on Cassidy is probably even more secure after he learned of Dolan's more recent perversions… the man is merely using the focus of helping me make a case against his monster to prop him up, to try and dodge the unavoidable collapse that is sure to follow, when he actually processes these most recent developments. The tornado of pain and anger that led him, with a drop gun, to Dolan's door, is going to be absolutely devastating when it turns inward, and I can only hope that he allows me and Liv to do what we can to support him.
I wish I could say I'm sorry he didn't change his mind about testifying but….I understand it too well. And when he spoke about 2 guys who lived in Connecticut and Providence, I realised he had picked men, consciously or not, who could possibly help us and then go home. Men who have an inbuilt distance, a protection that he wouldn't have had. These men, whilst undoubtedly scarred by their assumed experiences, would be able to leave some of the triggers and horror behind when they once again left New York.
I always knew he was a good cop….but this insight, even if it is subconscious, makes me respect his skills even more.
I wonder what it is about these men that drew Cassidy's attention?
Was what Dolan did so widely known? Or is it only in hindsight that a cop, with personal experience of the man, is able to see similarities the child could never hope to see or correctly interpret?
When he came to me last year to plead for some leniency, or help, for Reggie, Cassidy said his father found out, and beat the guy… the lawyer in me has so many questions… did this unmasking drive the pedophile out of the baseball community? Were any other allegations made around that time, perhaps by the men that Cassidy intends on visiting?
I pull in a long deep breath and promise myself to do some digging to avoid inundating Cassidy with all of my queries, even as a glance at the clock reminds me I need to shower quickly if I intend to be on time for this morning's scheduled meeting with Dolan and counsel.
It's going to be hard to sit at a table with the creep and keep control of my temper….
"Fuck!" I groan out loud, at the idea that Liv may be the cop sitting there, wallowing, in barely controlled rage with me. I have never hoped so hard, that as the head of such a busy unit she would be too busy to attend a meeting…..
That thought leads all too quickly to mentally ranking the other alternatives in order of desirability. Surprisingly I find there is no weak link to hope for…they are all good cops, perceptive men and women who will do their job well, but are all equally liable to see through my facade of 'just another case'. I wish Carisi was still the naive and inexperienced cop he once was…it would have been easier to hide from him, instead of the smart, instinctive cop, maybe even lawyer, he has become. There was a time Amanda could have been dissuaded from any personal inquires with a sharp, biting retort, but our relationship, sometimes even friendship, has rendered such tactics absolutely useless. She has grown wise to my careful obfuscations and bluster. Perhaps the worst option of all however, would be her partner Fin. The quiet man sees things and intuits their truth in ways that I would swear were supernatural, were I to subscribe to such theories.
Great! So all I've decided is none of the detectives are ideal but I least want to see Fin or Liv walking into my office….in less than 2 hours…
I quickly shower and shave, dressing in a way I have not needed to since the court cases to convict Patton and Lewis, carefully building up my armour and confidence with each piece of clothing, all the while negotiating breakfast and school attire with Noah.
Even today, I cherish my time with the boy, our boy…. I'm aware, even as we debate the appropriateness of wearing a poo emoji shirt, whose origin I am clueless about, to school and eating sugar laden cereal he knows is only for special treats, that in our not too distant future, our battles will be much more serious. And when he fixes me with a look that is pure stubbornness and highly reminiscent of his mother, I know I had better enjoy my 'easy wins' while I have them, even if those victories are actually based on the archaic but inalienable "because I am the adult and parent!" rather than true accord.
As we continue with our morning routine, which amazingly stays relatively unchanged regardless of whether Liv is here or not, I'm once more amazed by how lucky I am. This is a life I had never truly held any hope of living, a woman I adore, and a child who I would kill for… And as I juggle the joy of fatherhood and the demands of being an ADA, I carefully don't allow any thoughts of why today, I choose to consider 'killing' for the boy I have become comfortable referring to as my son…even if it is all too obvious.
I delight in the easy hug Noah gives me as I drop him off at Lucy's, knowing it won't be that long before he grows too old to hug so unselfconsciously.
"Be good for Lucy and your teacher mijo!" I call after him as he starts quizzing Lucy on her opinion of the Poo emoji shirt I had already vetoed for school.
"I don't think Mrs. Rodriguez wants to look at a poo shirt all day Noah" she cajoles, "especially at lunchtime!".
Why didn't I think of that? Noah looks very serious as he considers his beloved teacher, nodding in agreement as he considers what Lucy has posited. She gives me an understanding, sympathetic look and easily bats away my all too common apologies, of not knowing when one of us will be ready to pick him up.
"You will let me know, when you do, Rafael." she assures me gently, "Be safe!"
I wave goodbye, grateful for Lucy, her love for Noah, and her incalculable patience. Her last words to me, or Liv are always the same "Be safe!". Despite their seemingly commonplace usage, when she says them, I know she means it, she knows from experience how thoroughly dangerous our chosen jobs are.
I arrive into my office in a flurry of purpose, "Good morning Carmen! I'm sorry to throw even more work at you but I have had to rearrange my schedule for this afternoon and tomorrow morning, at the very least. It should sync up to your computer now, could you make the necessary notifications?"
She nods, efficiently making a handwritten note, as she starts on messages… After triaging the daily barrage, we dispose of an impressive number because of our years of successful work partnership.
"I have a pre-grand jury meeting with the suspect in the Micah Fuller case, I'm expecting one of the SVU detectives, can you show them in?" I request as I sit down at my desk, missing the raised eyebrow she directs at me. Had I seen it, maybe I would have had a warning that my poker face was already failing, and wouldn't have been surprised by a voice asking.…
"Jeez Barba who upset you this early?"
I turn to see a tired Rollins in the doorway, with coffees and a paper bag balanced on top of files.
"I don't know how you put up with him Carmen!" she commiserates with my beloved secretary, as both women chuckle at my baffled look. Closing the door behind her, Carmen retreats to the outer office, no doubt to begin sorting my calendar changes and refusing the invitations and offers we had so quickly discounted from the morning mail.
"Liv sends her apologies and suggested we may both benefit from a bagel and coffee" she announces, laying the file and its passengers down to pull off her coat. I gesture at the conference table and she makes her way over, laying a coffee and bagel in front of my chair and repeating the motion for herself, as she sinks into the chair she favours, at the far end of the table.
Coffee in one hand she tears open her breakfast and starts running down evidence, lines of enquiry, theories etc.
I'm already aware that we are light on evidence, despite knowing we have the right guy, but can't keep the censure out of my voice "We need more! Unless he confesses.."
She looks at me carefully, as I bluster on about my record, my skills as a "lawyer not a magician" but she is not fooled.
"What's up Barba?" she asks in a way that brooks no argument on the substance of the query.
"Sorry, just tired…." I try to palm her off, hoping she will leave it alone.
She is clearly not entirely convinced, but doesn't ask any more questions as we finish up our prep and breakfast.
Not long later, when faced with Dolan and his lawyer, I find my temper even more difficult to control than expected, as I snap the evidence-bagged polaroids at the man across from me.
"I'll be presenting to a Grand Jury tomorrow. Once your client is indicted, the plea will be top count only."
"So what is the one time, super-duper special offer?"
The lawyer before me is doing her job, she is defending her client, she is completely dead-pan as she delivers the question…..and yet I struggle not to snap, most unprofessionally, at her.
"Sexual Abuse in the first degree. 3 to 9."
All of my barely contained malice is bubbling to the surface as Dolan looks shocked….checking that he understands me in a shaken "Years?".
The lawyer, who I find I hate, for absolutely no valid reason, is unimpressed and unbothered by my threat even as I shove the pictures closer to her client.
"Micah committed suicide because of you." Rollins interjects with a worried side eye towards me.
"You're damn lucky I can't prosecute you for homicide."
I try to hold back the quasi-threat, but I could no more hold back the words than I could stop my jaw clenching in disgust.
"I had absolutely nothing to do with this young man's death. I am a convenient scapegoat." The animal in front of me starts bleating about the unfairness of his prosecution.
"You have a thin connection at best between my client and Micah Fuller"
In other circumstances I might admire the composure of the other lawyer, and the fact that she is unswayed by my fury and reputation, but now I can only glare at her with hostility.
Rollins is not missing any of my rage, her eyes darting to me at every opportunity, and she quickly points out the evidentiary email that we have naming Dolan, before I can say anything else.
"How do you explain the email that named your client?"
Unsurprisingly, both the lawyer and her scumbag client rush to repudiate this.
"Oh come on! There must be a million guys in this country named Gary"
"Micah Fuller wrote that when he was high as a space shuttle"
The only thing that allows me to keep silent, other than the increasingly worried and questioning looks being thrown at me by Rollins, is the fact that this prick is weakly pointing to the widespread popularity of his name, rather than the more personal approach the lawyer takes; that the victim was 'under the influence' when he wrote it.
"Micah was a troubled boy, I tried to foster his love of magic, 10 years ago…..you know, give a troubled boy a little attention?"
And that is it….I have hit the point I cannot contain my incandescent rage at the insinuation that Dolan was helping the kid, knowing all too well what his particular brand of attention consists of…
"I am gonna BURY you Dolan! You're a serial predator and you've been preying on boys since you coached youth league baseball"
Rollins is clearly shocked, staring at me silently for the second it takes Dolan's lawyer to end the meeting…
"Your victim is dead and your entire case is smoke and mirrors. Let's go Gary. Waste of time!"
Rollins lets them out, clearly grateful not to have to deal with my unprofessional temper in front of them.
The door is barely closed behind them though, when she rounds on me, only not in the way I was expecting…
"Youth League?"
SHIT! I hadn't even realised it had slipped out in my anger, until she pulls me on it.
"I was bluffing"
I huff, busying myself with the papers in front of me to avoid her eye. How could I have been so stupid? I knew I would have to defend my temper but never expected this…..
"Yeah? Cos Liv told me that.. Cassidy…was in one of Dolan's team photos."
"She told methat was a coincidence"
My answer is way too quick, way too shakily delivered, and too improbable to be believable, and the involuntary freeze in my paper shuffling is damning, but it is all I have.
I know how dogged Rollins can be, but just this once I'm praying she lets it go….
"Do you remember how Cassidy lost it on the stand last year testifying against that pedophile doctor?"
I force myself to meet her eye, steeling myself, calling on every skill I have in my professional toolkit, anything to try and maintain Cassidy's secret, his privacy….
"Yeah. What are you saying?"
She doesn't break eye contact, cataloguing every nuance of my behaviour, very movement…as I force myself to relax, to look curious instead of livid, to try and open my body language…
"I'm not sure…"
It's definitely not the answer I hoped for. And it is accompanied by a very long pause, as she considers. I stand strong, forcing myself to fake an ease I don't feel.
"It was worth a try, to pressure him…" I suggest in a way I hope she will read as my plan all along. After all it's not the first time we have leaned on a suspect, piling on pressure in the hopes he will crack and confess with the promise of a deal better than our promised, inevitable outcome.
She grabs her coat, and the files she needs, calculatingly watching me as she makes her way to the door.
Desperate to distract her, I ask about the case that pulled Liv from bed so early this morning…
"So what had Liv called in before dawn this morning?"
She answers the direct question, but it is clear I did not succeed in moving her focus one iota.
"Missing vulnerable adult…"
I wave off her explanation, again feigning disinterest because it is not yet a case for me to be concerned about.
She seems to come to some unspoken, decision, merely acknowledging my presence in the room before silently leaving.
I continue to hold it together, as best I can, until I'm sure she is definitely out of view, before slumping to my chair, head in hands, fighting back nausea.
I have no idea how that went so quickly, and so badly wrong.
How the hell did she manage to connect Cassidy so fast?
I know she said Liv told her Cassidy was in one of the team photos, I don't believe for one second that Liv actually told her this, I reckon she saw Liv's reaction to the picture and somehow figured it out… which means…..FUCK! I confirmed it was Cassidy! In my hurry to not overreact, I never considered that she was testing her theory. There's no way she could possibly have confirmed his identity until I opened my big mouth…..
I cannot have betrayed him so easily, and unintentionally….
And yet it seems as though that is exactly what I have done….
I know they are not friendly, there is some long-held, deep-seated distrust and dislike between Cassidy and Rollins, but I hope that she can be sensitive to him in this.