Hey, Liv, it's me. I just finished up at the office and I thought I'd call. Guess you're sleeping. I was surprised to hear from you. Hope everything's ok. Call me back.

She played the message again, idly tapping the phone against her chin while she watched Noah happily playing with a pile of tiny plastic cars on the rug in Elliot's living room. She'd showered first, let Elliot keep an eye on Noah while he finished his breakfast, and now it was Elliot's turn to get himself cleaned up and ready for the day while Olivia waited for him. She had the next fifteen, twenty - thirty, if she was lucky - minutes to herself, and it seemed like the perfect time to call Barba back.

Instead of calling, though, she kept replaying his message. There wasn't much to go on; Barba had only talked for a few seconds, and she couldn't tell whether he knew about the accident or not. If he did know, he didn't sound too worried about her; hope everything's ok was an underwhelming, impersonal response. If he didn't know, perhaps he could be forgiven for his lack of concern.

His tone was cautious, not affectionate or eager; he spoke, she thought, like a man who didn't know where he stood with his audience. He was surprised to hear from her, and his name didn't appear in the log of her recent calls; she'd not called him for six months. Not since Ed died, since his funeral, presumably.

What if we weren't close? Olivia asked herself. Malcolm had warned her about this, when she first got her phone back, warned her that not every number in her contacts list would belong to a dear friend, that some would be business associates and passing acquaintances or people she didn't want to speak to at all. What if Barba was one of those? What if they worked together, and nothing more, what if they fell out of touch when she left town because they didn't have much of a foundation to begin with? He was in the picture, the picture from the day Noah's adoption was finalized, but what if it was proximity, and not affection, that earned him an invitation to the celebration?

Only one way to find out, she thought. What was the worst that could happen, really? She might accidentally upset someone she hadn't spoken to in six months anyway?

Just do it.

She did.

Sitting crosslegged on Elliot's floor, watching Noah like a hawk in case he decided to put one of those little cars in his mouth, she pressed a few buttons on her phone, and called Barba back.

He answered on the third ring.

"Liv?" he said.

She liked that, liked that he called her Liv, the way Elliot did, the way Fin did. The way her friends did. Her old friends, the ones who knew her best.

"Hey, Barba," she said.

"Oh, we're back to Barba now?" he asked in a tone she could not decipher. Was he teasing? Was he angry? How was she supposed to tell the difference?

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to move things along. The sooner she told him about the accident, about her memory loss, the sooner she could find out whether or not this man meant to help her.

"What's going on?" he asked sharply. "You don't sound…you sound like something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," she said, and then immediately backtracked. "Actually, that's not true."

"Liv -"

"I'm safe, Noah's safe," she told him, because if he was really her friend she figured he'd want to know that. "But I was in a car accident, about two weeks ago."

"Two weeks?" Barba repeated, consternated, sounding almost offended that he'd been left out of the loop for so long. "Were - are you hurt?"

"I hit my head pretty hard," she confessed. "And I…" There was no easy way to say it. It sounded impossible, even as she lived with the reality of it. "I guess I… lost my memories."

"You don't remember the accident?"

"I don't remember anything. Or I didn't, not at first. Some things are coming back to me now but it's slow, and everything is kinda hazy."

It was all mixed up, her dreams, her memories, the things she wanted to be true but did not know. What did she remember, and what had her mind made up in a desperate attempt to restore everything she'd lost?

"Where are you?" he demanded. "I'll come get you, we can -"

"I'm safe, I'm in the city, I'm at Elliot's."

The phone went quiet, so quiet that for a minute she worried it had died again but when she pulled the phone away from her face she saw that the call was still connected.

"Barba?"

"Elliot's," he repeated dubiously. "Elliot Stabler?"

"Yeah."

"What the fuck are you doing with Elliot Stabler?"

The vehemence of his tone shocked her; what could possibly have made him sound so angry? Elliot was her friend; sure, Fin had tried to keep them apart, but it wasn't because he didn't trust Elliot, wasn't because he thought Elliot would hurt her, be bad for her in some way. Fin was only trying to ease her into the truth of her life, was only trying to help her take things slow the way everybody seemed to think she ought to. Fin wasn't angry when Elliot turned up at her door; Fin had been resigned, almost, like he'd known all along there was no keeping them apart. Not so Barba; it sounded like he didn't trust Elliot at all.

"He's my friend," she said defensively, hating how childish the word sounded. Elliot was a hell of a lot more than a friend. Especially now, after she'd spent the night in his bed, after she'd tasted the delirious beauty of his kiss, found such comfort, such peace in his arms. As far as she was concerned, Elliot was part of her very self, and she did not understand why Barba was afraid of him.

"He was my partner," she added, hoping that word might sway Barba, Barba who had been an ADA, who worked with her once, who understood how important the relationship between partners could be.

"And you hated him, Liv," Barba said heatedly.

At the word hated her tummy flipped unpleasantly. Elliot was worried about that, she knew, worried that before he came crashing back into her life she'd hated him. That she wanted no part of him, that she meant what she said when she told him to stay away. But Olivia had spent the last several days with him, and when she looked into his kind blue eyes she saw only a man she loved. It was Olivia herself who insisted that she couldn't possibly have hated him, that any anger she might've felt towards him had only been born of a thwarted love, a love she felt every time he was near.

What if she was wrong?

"I know he left me," she said. "And I know I was hurt -"

"Hurt?" Barba scoffed. "Liv, you - you were furious. I've heard the stories. When Rollins and Amaro turned up you were on the goddamn warpath. They couldn't even say his name in the bullpen. Everybody had to walk on eggshells around you for months. You never talked to me about him, but I saw his jacket when we were looking into Tucker."

"Looking into -" Why the fuck had he been looking into her husband?

"Do you have any idea how many excessive force complaints he has in his jacket?" Barba carried on as if he hadn't heard her; maybe he hadn't.

But he was right; she didn't have any idea what those words even meant. Well, excessive force she could figure out. That sounded like violence, and the thought chilled her to the bone.

"How many people he's killed?" Barba continued relentlessly. "His last shooting, he killed a teenage girl."

Some bad stuff happened, and I had to leave. That was all Elliot said, about the end of their partnership, the events that precipitated his disappearance from her life. He hadn't said a word about this, about killing a teenager. He'd hedged, been vague, and protected her from the truth, and now the truth slammed into her chest like a fist.

He'd killed a teenager?

The man who'd held her, kissed her, loved her, just last night, had killed a teenage girl?

It was incomprehensible; it was horrifying, not only that he had done it, but that he had yet to tell Olivia himself. What other secrets was he keeping? Barba was right; she had no idea how many people Elliot had killed, and now she wasn't sure she wanted to know. It felt so right, being with Elliot, loving him, spending time with him, seeing him smile at her son, but what if was wrong? What if Barba was right, and she did hate Elliot?

What if she really didn't know him at all?

"I didn't - I don't -"

"He didn't tell you about that, did he?" Barba said, victorious and angry. "Look, Liv, I know he was in your life for a long time, and I can't imagine how scared you are right now -"

At the moment, she was absolutely terrified, terrified that she'd spent the night in the arms of a man she didn't know. Last night the thought of what they'd done together, the chance that they might have made a baby together, filled her with happiness, and this morning she felt only fear. She thought Malcolm was the villain and Elliot her protector, but what if she'd gotten it all wrong?

You do know him, she thought. You do. Fin trusts him, and he's been so kind. An evil man wouldn't be so kind. Would he?

"And if you really can't remember anything I'm sure there's a lot of stuff he can tell you, but I don't know if you can trust him. It's been a long time since he was part of your life. Do you even know when's the last time you spoke to him?"

"Seven years ago," she confessed in a small voice. "When he left."

"Jesus," Barba swore. "Ok, do you - how much did you forget? You know how your phone works, right? You know how to send a text?"

"I can do that now, yeah."

Thank god. The phone was her lifeline, and now that she knew how to use it she hoped that it would save her, from her mistakes, from her grief.

"Ok, text me the address -"

"I don't know the address," she burst out. "Barba, I don't - we're at his apartment, but I have no idea where it is."

"This just keeps getting better," he said incredulously. "Liv, you have to -"

"We're going to Central Park," she told him. "We're taking Noah to the carousel."

It sounded so foolish, when she said it out loud. Juvenile, almost, how badly she wanted to go to the park, to play with her son, when she had much more grown up things to be worried about. Things like whether she'd just gotten pregnant by a monster.

"Ok, that's good," Barba said. "Noah loves the carousel, and that'll keep you busy while I try to get back to the city. It'll be a few hours before I get there. I'm going to call you, and when I do I want you to tell me where you are, and I'll come meet you."

So much for taking things slow; now everything was moving entirely too fast. Could she trust Barba? Did he have her best interests at heart? Did Elliot? How was she supposed to know? Who should she believe? It was impossible to know who to trust when she could not even trust herself.

She wanted to believe Elliot was the good and decent man he seemed to be. That he was the other half of her heart, that he loved her, truly, that he would protect her and never hurt her, but what if she was wrong? Barba sounded so earnest, his concern for her so genuine, but she'd yet to even see his face outside a single photograph. Would Fin know? If she called him, would he be able to untangle this mess for her? Fin had been friendly enough with Elliot, seemed to like him, had no qualms about leaving her alone with him, but Fin was a cop, too; did Fin think it was no big deal, Elliot killing a kid? Could she even trust Fin?

A part of her wanted to run. Right then and there, wanted to scoop up her son and flee, back to her little house in her sleepy little town, back to Rosie and daycare and the club and whatever boring, bland life she'd been living before this nightmare began. She had no way to get there, though, not without talking to Elliot about her plans, and even if she did run, she'd find no answers there. As frightened as she was, she wasn't ready to give up her pursuit of the truth.

"Liv -"

"Ok," she said. "Call me when you get close, and we'll work it out. I want to see you."

"I want to see you, too," he said. "I'm coming. Just…don't let him know we talked, ok? Or don't let him know we talked about him. Just go have fun with Noah, don't worry about the rest of it right now."

How the fuck was she supposed to do that? How could she not worry, after what he'd told her?

"Ok," she said again, not wanting Barba to know how deeply he'd shaken her. "See you soon."

"See you soon, Liv."

The line went dead and she lowered the phone slowly from her face, and as she did Elliot came walking into view, dressed now in jeans and a grey shirt, smiling at her softly.

"Who you talking to?" he asked easily, no trace of anger or fear on his face.

"No one," she lied. Barba said not to tell him they'd talked, and for now she decided to do as Barba said. "Just listening to the voicemail from Barba."

"You should call him back," Elliot said. "If he's local, maybe we can meet him."

See? She told herself. A bad man, a dangerous man, wouldn't have been so calm. A dangerous man wouldn't want her to meet her friends. Even Malcolm had tried to separate her from Fin and Elliot, but Elliot was just the opposite, encouraging her instead.

There was so much she didn't know, but there were things Barba didn't know, either. Maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe she didn't need to be so scared.

"Yeah, maybe," she said. "Are you ready to go?"

The sooner they left the sooner she could distract herself with trying to make their trip to the park special for Noah, and the sooner Barba would arrive, and, she hoped, bring some clarity with him.