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megalony · 3 months

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Leave Her Out Of This

This is a new Nick Amaro imagine from SVU, requested by a lovely anon. I loved this idea and I hope you will all like it. Any feedback is always lovely to get.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

Masterlist

Summary: Nick comes back to work but he can't contain himself when he finds his wife up on their board of victims. He won't have the team dragging up her past and upsetting her.

Enjoy.

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"Hey stranger, how are you?"

A tired smile formed on Nick's face when he sluggishly walked into the squad room, trying not to drag his feet behind him and act a little more human today.

"Better," He felt much better than he did last week when he went off sick. He had barely been able to keep his eyes open and when he started to run a fever, Olivia sent him home. They didn't need him collapsing on the job or crumbling behind his desk when he wasn't well.

It had been oddly strange for Nick to spend five full days at home with (Y/n) and not have to set an alarm or wake up to a phone call in the middle of the night asking him to come in. He didn't get one call or message or even a voicemail asking for his help or for him to come back and it was the weirdest feeling in the world. The team must have realised how run down he felt to not message him at all.

He didn't feel one hundred percent just yet, but he felt better than he had done and he was well enough to come back.

Spending a few days between the bed and the couch had done him a lot of good, and being with his wife just made him feel that much better.

As he approached his desk, Nick shrugged off his overcoat and draped it on the back of his chair. He didn't want to sit down just yet because he knew if he did, he wouldn't be likely to get up again. It was best for him to keep moving and keep busy to wake himself up.

"So, what have we got?" His hands fell to his hips and he took a sweeping look around, waiting for someone to tell him what the plans were. They had just finished up on a case last week when Nick went off sick. He didn't know if they had a new case yet, if they had a victim to talk to or if they had a big case building up that they needed to work on.

"We're building up an old case with three new victims. Come see what we've got, then we can head out and speak to the latest vic."

Amanda waved a file in the air towards Nick before she got up from her desk and beckoned him to follow her.

He had missed the beginning of this case opening back up, but he could jump in and help since they hadn't spoken to any of the latest victims yet. They needed the usual statements, witnesses, coroborating stories and alibis. It was going to be a busy few days around the station.

Nick could feel himself wishing he was back home already and he had barely been here two minutes. But he tried to push those feelings down as he followed Amanda past the desks and towards the back of the squad room where the computers and the crime boards were.

They had been busy.

"New vics on the right, old ones on the left. We're still searching for more potential vics."

"So, what's the case?" Nick leaned back and sat down on the edge of the table as his arms folded over his chest and he studied the new victims. They always had better chances with new victims, old ones had the statue of limitations hanging over their heads and memories could change and fade and warp. Details could be missed as well.

"Glad to see you back," Olivia commented as she approached the boards and started pointing. "Local parish priest, Jonathon. Three girls between ten and fifteen have come forward with allegations of abuse. Looking back, we've found six previous victims, Finn is still searching for any others. He takes them under his wing, gets them helping in church after school, then progresses to attack them repeatedly."

A wave of unease washed over Nick as he tried his best to listen to what Olivia was saying. But it was hard to concentrate when a familiar sense of knowing lingered in the back of his mind and he could feel his skin starting to prickle with goosebumps.

It was as if there was an invisible hand in front of him that reached through his chest and fisted around his heart when he dared to look over at the board on the left.

Oh God no.

No, that wasn't fair. This couldn't be right.

A subtle trembling set in over Nick's body and he found himself pushing off the table to take a few steps closer to the board he was now inspecting.

It was the same man. It was the same priest. The one Nick fortunately had never met, but had heard all about over the course of a decade. This was the man that Nick had envisioned countless times when he laid awake in the dead of night, unable to sleep or think or do anything but wonder what he was like and if he had been caught out.

"…Are you familiar with the old cases?" Olivia kept her voice quiet because it seemed like Nick was caught up in a trance he couldn't break out of.

He was stood right in front of the board of old victims, but it didn't make sense. Nick wasn't old enough to have been there to work on the old cases. If he was familiar with them, it would have to be due to a fairly recent victim or because he knew someone else who had worked on this case before.

Nick's fingers twitched at his sides and his right hand jerked up before he managed to control himself and drop his hands back to his sides. He let his hands clench into fists until his short nails were puncturing into his palms, creating deep crescent moons in the skin.

"Yeah… I… I need a coffee." He turned on his heels and backed away from the board before he did something he shouldn't.

He made his way through towards the cells and moved to the small kitchen at the side. He needed a coffee to wake up and calm himself down.

His wife was on that board.

Trembles set in through his hands when he tried to pour some fresh coffee into a takeaway cup. He spilt more on the side than he got in the cup and he added three sugars to try and settle his system and his nerves.

They had (Y/n)'s picture up on that board. They had gone raking through past cases and old reports and they had dug out (Y/n)'s file.

While he had been off, they had found the few reports (Y/n) had made when she was younger.

That was why Nick knew this case back to front, he knew what that priest was capable of because it had happened to his wife. Nick knew (Y/n) had made at least three separate reports to the police, but because her parents thought so highly of the priest and didn't believe her, nothing was done. (Y/n) had no evidence of abuse and the police wouldn't file charges or make an arrest on a man of God. Not unless they had solid evidence and more witnesses.

The other girls who came forward didn't have solid cases either. Nothing was done about it.

"So, what do you know about this case, anything we can use?"

Nick glared daggers down into his cup when he trailed back towards the table and heaved down into one of the chairs opposite the boards. He slouched back and crossed one leg over the other, but he couldn't stop staring up at that board.

(Y/n) looked so young. The picture had to be her when she was thirteen or fourteen. There was something in her eyes that made Nick's stomach churn. A desperate need to be listened to; they were made of glass that was splintering and about to break. The world was hidden within those eyes that had seen far too much for someone so young.

"He grooms them first… makes them feel comfortable, preys on any family issues. He usually makes them give confession before he tries anything, then he had a hold over them. Sick fucker."

His eyes stayed on the brown paper cup in his hand that was slowly burning into his skin, creating a delicious tension that made Nick feel calmer.

He knew what the priest did, from what (Y/n) said, his motives became very clear. He wormed his way into their lives and made sure he knew their friends and family and that everyone liked him enough to never believe any of these accusations. He made the girls feel vulnerable and like they would be defying God and going against everyone if they ever spoke out.

Nick couldn't help himself, he couldn't help but look up at that picture again. He wasn't used to seeing photos of (Y/n) from when she was younger, she didn't have many photos she liked that didn't plague her with bad memories. And after she left home and went to college where she met Nick, she cut off ties with her parents. They didn't support her, they didn't help her and whether or not a small part of them believed what she had gone through, they still did nothing about it.

(Y/n) didn't want to be around them anymore when they had let her down so badly.

"I want you both to go over the old victims with Finn, get new statements, any details we can use to make a new case. The statute of limitations may have run out, but some of these girls did make reports and file complaints and we can use those."

No!

No, they were not doing this. They were not going to victimise (Y/n) all over again and put her through that trauma. Nick wouldn't allow it.

No good would come of this, he had consoled too many victims who couldn't put the past behind them. He had talked to so many victims and all of them felt worse after re-living events like this. Getting justice may help, but the process to do that didn't. No one was doing this to his wife.

Nick wouldn't see (Y/n) tell her tale to more people when she had been through it before. She had talked to her parents. She had gone through every event with the police. She had relived it when she opened up to Nick about what she had been through. She wasn't doing that again.

"Amanda, I want you to start with-"

Olivia took a step away from the board and leaned back when Nick suddenly got up. He rounded the side of the table and before either of them could speak, he slammed his hand down on the board.

Nick snatched the picture of (Y/n) from the board, tearing a crease in the top left corner where it didn't come apart from the blue tac properly. His chest heaved and his shoulders strained against his shirt as he stared down at the picture he desperately wanted to tear up into pieces but couldn't. This wasn't the girl that Nick knew. This wasn't the woman he had fallen in love with, this was a piece of her past he had seem glimpses of but never ventured into.

This was the part of (Y/n) that she wanted to bury and forget and Nick would do absolutely anything in his power to do that for her.

He reached down and snatched the eraser on the bottom of the board and set a fast pace, scrubbing the black marker from the board. He wiped away his wife's maiden name, her date of birth and the dates of her attacks. He cleaned away the information about her allegations and what she had gone through.

He wiped the slate clean, wishing this could rebound into her life and smudge away her past so it never happened.

"We have five old victims, not six. You don't use this one."

Amanda leaned back in her seat and twirled her pen between her fingers. They had gone through all these victims and they all seemed credible. He couldn't just walk in and wipe them clean and demand no one talk to them or use their statements.

"Nick, we've got statements that coroborate her story, she's a good lead-"

"She's my wife."

Silence fell over the end of the squad room just as Finn walked through with a thin paper file in his hands. No one had anything to say to that. What were they supposed to say? What were they supposed to do now?

For a few more seconds, no one spoke. All eyes landed on Nick as he stood in front of the board, his short nails puncturing holes into the eraser in his hand. His biceps strained against his sleeves from how tense he was holding himself. The veins in his neck started to push out and come on display and his jaw ground down so deeply the muscles around his neck and chin began to flex.

"Nick, I'm so sorry." Olivia held her hands in front of her and started to move the ring around her finger. "You know the way this goes, we comb through old victims to find things to help put this man away. We can leave (Y/n) down to you, we won't go near her-"

"No, you won't. You don't get it, (Y/n) went through all of this and she didn't get help. It's too late for her now, she doesn't want anything to do with this so we get this guy with the victims and the evidence we do have. No one goes near my wife, don't even mention her in any part of this."

They couldn't force their way into (Y/n)'s life.

She was done with this. It was a decade ago and (Y/n) was trying to move on. Some victims couldn't move on unless they had closure, but (Y/n) didn't feel that way. She tried to get help, she moved on, she got her life together and she was finally somewhere that she was happy and proud and pleased with herself. No one was going to run in and ruin that for her.

Testifying or making statements and reliving everything was going to burden (Y/n) and make her feel down and drag her all the way back down when she had done so well putting herself back together. If they caught this guy, great, (Y/n) could rest easy knowing no one else would get hurt.

But at the end of the day, (Y/n) was a victim, she didn't have to think of anyone else. She had tried to help, she had done her part in this. They had her statements and her files, that was all they needed from her, talking to her wasn't going to help her.

"We've got five other victims, surely that's enough?" Amanda rolled her lips into a thin line and looked over at Olivia for confirmation.

If this was Amanda's significant other, she would feel the same way. She wouldn't want the team going to talk to her partner ot combing through their life to pick it apart and get them to retell their story. She would want her partner as far away from this mess as possible and Amanda could see where Nick was coming from.

Did they really need (Y/n) if they had the rest of these girls and their case would be built solidly around the new victims?

"Nick, are you sure this is what (Y/n) wants?"

"It took her months to open up to me, she doesn't want to keep living this nightmare. Liv… she's pregnant, you think stressing her out is a good idea right now? I know everything, whatever questions you have, I can answer. Leave her out of this."

His hand planted down on his hip, crushing his wife's picture against his trouser leg while his other hand moved to cup his chin. He scratched his nails down his jaw and rubbed until it felt like he was going to tear off a layer of skin.

This was what (Y/n) wanted, Nick knew that and he knew what would go through his wife's head when she found out about the investigation.

She would want nothing to do with this.

If they spoke to her about this, it would drag up all the past and send her spiralling down when she was finally back to a good place in her life. She wasn't having nightmares or sleepless nights anymore. She wasn't afraid to be around other people and she didn't flinch when in close contact with others.

Since the moment Nick met her back in college, he had done everything he could to help her. He moved at her pace, let her slowly open up to him over the course of almost eight months. They worked through things together, he had been there when she went to therapy and every part of her recovery, Nick had tried to be there by her side.

And (Y/n) was six and a half months pregnant now.

They were finally at a place in their lives where (Y/n) felt happy and able to start a family and have the life she always wanted. With Nick.

(Y/n) was even going to church with Nick and his family now. After everything she had gone through, she was going to church and keeping some of the little faith she had left. This case would set her back years in her recovery and when this went to trial, (Y/n) would undoubtedly be near her due date.

There was no chance in Hell that Nick would let Barba put his pregnant wife up on the stand and risk stressing her out and pushing her into labour.

It wasn't worth the risk.

***

Nick could feel all the energy draining out of him as he dragged his feet and plodded up the stairs. His fingers worked at the buttons on his sleeves and he rolled them up to his elbows as his chin tucked down into his chest and he sighed.

He could feel all the energy dwindling away from him like someone was draining him down to twenty percent. Less than a week back at work was draining him to his last reserves and he felt like he would be taking another week off sick as he still wasn't fully recovered yet.

He had shed his blazer jacket the moment he walked through the door and as he reached the top of the stairs, Nick undid the tie from his collar and whipped it off from around his neck.

"Carino?" He leaned in the bedroom and tossed his tie on the bed before he turned around and headed back into the hallway when he saw the room was empty.

A soft smile pulled at his tired lips when he noticed the light was on in the spare room.

When he poked his head around the door, he let his arms fold over his chest and he leaned his body into the door frame. One leg crossed over the other and his smile softened into something sweet as his eyes locked on his wife.

(Y/n) was sat cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the room with small piles of clothes surrounding her. Blankets stacked up near her right knee, onesies and vests in front of her and the few handmade boots she had made sat proudly in front of her legs.

"You've been busy," Nick's quiet comment caused (Y/n) to lift her head and when her eyes locked on him, she bit down no her lip, obscuring a charmingly sweet smile that made his heart melt.

She placed down the boots in her hand and ran her hands along her knees, but her heart sped up and she pressed her lips together tightly when she watched her husband. He seemed to grin down at her before something caught his eye and he tilted his head back. His eyes swept around the room a few times before his head turned to the left and he looked over the wall beside him.

"Have you painted again?" The sigh was visible in the way his chest puffed out then deflated. Nick moved away from the doorframe and took a few steps into the room so he could look up at the walls.

They had painted the first coat on the walls two days before he went off sick from work. They spent the next few days lounging around the house with Nick too tired and run down to do anything. And when he had gone back to work, he didn't think about the second coat of paint that the walls needed. The room was a very pale shade of grey that had hints of lilac mixed in. It was a neutral colour since they were keeping the gender a secret.

"Maybe," (Y/n) tilted her head down and shrugged when Nick huffed.

"And you thought it would be safe to get up on the ladder without me home? What if you fell?"

If she wanted to paint, Nick would of preferred (Y/n) just painted the part of the walls she could reach and leave the skirting edges at the ceiling for him to do. He didn't like the thought of her getting up on a ladder without him here, especially when she was home alone. If she fell or hurt herself or knocked herself out she wouldn't have a way to get help.

(Y/n) lifted her head when Nick crouched down in front of her, being mindful of the clothes she was trying to sort out and had piled around her like a circle of protection.

Her lips curved up and a shiver ran down her spine when his hand cupped her chin so he could plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"Sorry… I got the crib out too but I got a bit sidetracked." She let her eyes dance across to the side of the room before she looked back at Nick and gently traced her hand across his neck.

She could feel the growl that vibrated through his shirt and up his neck which made his jaw shudder. He leaned forward to steal another kiss before his eyes locked on the right side of the room. The crib should have been flat-packed and still in the box he had leant up against the wall. Instead, the instructions were on the floor beneath the window, the tool box was at the ready and all the pieces were set out into rows very neatly.

"You know that's my job, you should be resting."

He spoke against her lips, letting each word fan across her dark lips before he gave in to temptation and kissed her again, pulling her lower lip between his teeth. He didn't want (Y/n) doing everything and he didn't want her overworking herself when his back was turned and he left the house.

"Come on, I think you've earned a break." Nick moved his hands round until he was holding the back of (Y/n)'s elbows and he let her hands fall on his shoulders.

He slowly eased her up to her feet with him but his brows raised and his eyes widened when (Y/n) leaned forward. Her hands moved from his shoulders to wrap around his neck and her face buried forward in his chest near his collar bone.

A tender look crossed his face and his lips quirked into a sideways smile as (Y/n) leaned forward into him. He slid his hands down to her waist and planted his hands flat on her lower back with his arms pressing lovingly into her sides. Nick held her against his chest for a little while with his cheek pressed on the top of her head.

He began to sway them from side to side as if soft music was lulling in the background.

His hand moved to rub up and down her back and his other hand slid further down to cup her bum while he pressed his lips longingly to the top of her head. They stayed like that for another minute or more, but Nick could feel his smile starting to fade when (Y/n) didn't let him go.

She tightened her arms around his neck when he tried to lean back to look down at her.

"Carino… is everything okay?" The words vibrated through her hair and he pressed another kiss against her temple while his hand stopped against the middle of her back. His thumb began to glide up and down over the back of her shirt but he kept swaying them from side to side to try and keep the serenity around them.

"Did you see the news today?"

(Y/n)'s voice came out as quiet as a whisper on the wind but she didn't want to pull away. Not yet. She could feel the first few buttons of Nick's shirt were undone and she nuzzled her nose against his chest until she could rest her cheek against his bare skin, nudging his shirt out the way.

"No, we were driving round town all day doing interviews, why? What did it say?" Nick had been driving for the best part of his twelve hour shift and when he wasn't in the car, he was asking questions and taking down notes. Two out of the five previous victims they were talking to had refused to talk to them and clammed up when they arrived.

It hadn't been a very productive day and Nick was glad to be home. He didn't have time to watch the news.

"A reporter has confirmation that… that a priest in the area is under suspicion of sexual allegations… it's him."

(Y/n) kept her face buried into Nick's chest and she felt the sharp breath he took and how his stomach tensed and pulled inwards against her. His hand pressed down deeper into her back and he tilted his head so he could rest his chin on top of her hair.

As soon as she saw it on the news, (Y/n) hurriedly turned the tv off. She didn't dare turn it back on after that and when she did, she had gone straight to the movie channels so no news would pop up.

(Y/n) didn't want to listen or read whatever they were spouting. She didn't want to see his picture pop up on the screen and remind her of the nightmares she had tried to forget. She didn't need his face back in her memory when she had finally started to forget what he looked like and in her dreams, he appeared as a faceless blurr.

Nor did (Y/n) want to hear what he was accused of and hear how old the other girls were. She didn't need to be reminded that this predator was still out on the streets because no one had taken her seriously or listened to her as a teenager.

"The case landed on Liv's desk when I went off sick. I have to work the case and look into it." Nick knew he needed to tell (Y/n), but he thought he would have another few weeks before any reports got leaked and the media found out what and who they were investigating. He wanted to sit (Y/n) down and calmly tell her about this so she had some forwarning instead of finding out like this.

He felt the shudder than ran through her body and seemed to pass right into him. He could feel the sharp breaths she took but instead of pulling out of his arms, she held him tighter. (Y/n) unlocked her arms from his neck and slid her hands down so she could loop them beneath his arms and bound them tightly around his chest.

"Do I… Nick, I don't wanna…" Tears burned in the corners of (Y/n)'s eyes as she finally pulled back enough to look up at him.

Her chin pressed down into his chest so her head could tip back and stare up at her husband. She could see the emotions pooling deep in his brown eyes and his lips parted for a few seconds while he tried to think of something to say.

"Shh, carino it's okay. You don't have to do anything, I swear. You're not part of this investigation, no one will talk to you and you're not going anywhere near that trial when it starts."

His hand moved up from her bum and curled loosely around the back of her neck so he could lean down and smother his lips against her forehead. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin and the light trembling that settled in her bones. This is what he was afraid of. This is what Nick tried to tell the team. He knew (Y/n) like the back of his hand and he knew she wouldn't want any part of this.

"Really?" (Y/n) hated how much her voice wobbled and her nails dug into Nick's back when he replaced his lips with his temple against hers.

As soon as it came on the news, (Y/n) had fought hard not to go into a panic and she stopped herself from going down to the station to talk to Nick. She didn't want to bother him at work but to distract herself, she had spent the day in the nursery. The thought of their impending baby had been a great distraction to (Y/n), she painted the nursery, got the crib out into sections and started on the clothes.

(Y/n) didn't want to testify.

She didn't want to open up to anyone else about the torment she had gone through as a teen. She didn't want the sympathy looks she got from others and she didn't want the people her husband worked with to look at her like that or hear the gruesome details of her abuse.

It happened a long time ago and (Y/n) wanted to move on. She and Nick were happy, they were having a baby and starting their family together; this was the last thing they needed.

"Really. For you, this is over. That shit on the news has nothing to do with you Carino."

"Do they know?"

The pain in her voice was more than clear and it made Nick's lungs seize up. He wanted to tell her no. He wanted to say the team had no idea what she had gone through, but he could never lie to her.

None of their friends knew what (Y/n) had gone through and Nick's family only found out a few small details after they got engaged. While she had been his girlfriend, his family had no idea what she had gone through and all Nick disclosed to his parents and sister was that (Y/n) had gone through a degree of abuse as a teenager. He didn't say an specifics or who it had involved, when, where or how long for.

They knew the basics and only what they desperately needed to know. That was how they both wanted it to be.

(Y/n) leaned her head to the right when both Nick's hands moved to cup her face. His thumb swiped across her cheek and cleared away a tear that started to fall and he tipped her head down so he could press a longing kiss to her forehead.

"They had your name and the old reports. I took it down before they could look any further into it. As far as they're concerned, your name's been erased."

Nick was glad he got to the board before any of the team looked through all of (Y/n)'s case files and before they got to speak to her. As far as the team were concerned, when Nick scrubbed (Y/n)'s name off the board, he was erasing her from the entire investigation.

Olivia had agreed not to tell Barba that they had a sixth past victim. They hadn't told him that they had a victim who refused to speak to them, they hadn't told him Nick had a personal link to this investigation. As far as everyone else knew, (Y/n) wasn't involved in this, her name wouldn't come up. And now she was married to Nick, her last name was officially Amaro and had been for the last two years. She wasn't connected to this case anymore.

"You have nothing to worry about, carino. Okay?"

The small, tepid smile that graced (Y/n)'s lips was enough to calm her down and stop her from falling into floods of tears. She nodded her head in his hands and reached up to grip his wrists, as if silently telling him not to dare let go.

She pushed up on her toes and connected their lips, mumbling a quiet 'thank you' into his mouth which he swallowed up as he devoured her lips.

"Anything for you, carino."

#nick amaro x reader #nick amaro imagine #nick x reader #nick amaro #law and order svu #law and order #imagine #pregnant! reader #pregnancy

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oneshotnewbie · 7 months

Note

A jogger finds a phone and calls the cops. When they take it and put it into a zip back, they accidentally turn on the phone - revealing a picture of The Captain of the SVU and Reader?

Possible trigger warning: This one-shot includes the mention of blood and kidnapping, the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

William Jacobs ran across the Brooklyn Bridge at the same time every morning, trying to beat his best time. But today he desperately thought about turning back and skipping today's sports session - the weather was playing into his cards.

Despite all the negative voices in his head, the young man ran from the Brooklyn bridge to the Manhattan Central Park and back. At this early hour there were hardly any passers-by and only occasionally a few cars drove past. As he took his first step off the bridge, he was inspired by the release of happiness hormones and increased his pace.

William loved being able to look out over the East River and let his thoughts and feelings flow freely. His black hair flowed in the wind and was dampened by the drizzle, her ragged breathing evident in the chill of dawn. When he managed halfway of his way, he was panting like never before in his life - the cold air making it harder to force enough air through his lungs. The young man felt the slight sting in his side, but did not hesitate to stop.

It was not until his head moved towards the entrance of the Central Park that he saw something blue and shimmery lying on the ground. Confused, he stopped and cautiously approached the object, peering left and right to locate other people.

Startled, he jumped back and almost stepped into the street when he saw red-brown stains around it, some of them even splattered on the cell phone he had found. William did not even hear the car behind him screeching to a stop next to him and the car door being opened with an aggressive jerk. "Are you crazy? I almost ran you over!"

But the young man did not answer the older women. She looked at the black-haired guy and saw fear and disgust on his face. His shaky fingers pointed to the main reason he stopped, which was why the woman looked confused on the ground and shortly after promptly walked back to her car in shock. "We have to alert the police." he shouted in a shrill, abnormally bright voice. The stranger nodded her head and pulled her cell phone out of the glove compartment of her red car. She quickly tapped on her phone and held it trembling against her ear.

"Emergency call center, how can I help you?" A calm voice asked on the other end of the line, beginning to type on her keyboard to find out the location of the caller. "We found a phone." she spoke anxiously, earning a sigh from the 911 agent. "Mam, you know this is not an emergency, right?"

William looked confused at the device in the old lady's hand, and in his adrenaline rush he did not quite understand why the sigh was being given. So he quickly snatched the cell phone from her and continued the conversation. "Listen. Here is a cell phone lying at the entrance to Central Park, covered in blood splatters. I also recognize an original NYPD cell phone case."

“Which entrance are you at?” the woman's low voice slowly calmed his rapidly beating heart. He took a deep breath while trying not to let his mind sink into a hole of horror scenarios. He looked around, trying to figure out which entrance he really was at. "Fifth Avenue at the Plaza Hotel,"

"Do not touch anything. I will send you a unit."

ᕚ---ᕘ

The gentle rain pattered quietly against Olivia's bedroom windows and made her open her eyes just a crack wide. Her tired gaze glowered out and a hand brushed over her face as she watched the night slowly fade away. Her attention turned to the other side of the bed, her fingers curling into the cold sheets next to her.

Her fiancée was no longer lying next to her and she sighed heavily. She usually woke up before you almost every morning, kissing along your naked spine stroking her hand with pleasure over your sides before she remained on your bare hip, waking you up for another day. Olivia loved waking up next to you since she shared a bed with you and enjoyed every minute of it. But she respected your exercise routine in the early hours of the morning and was in no way offended if she started the day without you.

The brunette tried to close her eyes for another five minutes, but quickly abandoned the idea when her cell phone rang. A little angry, she felt around on the bedside table for the annoying-sounding device and answered the call. "Lieutenant Benson?" she sighed loudly, already pulling the blanket off her body.

The brunette, half asleep, rummaged through her closet for some clothes and ran into the bathroom to get ready. "Central Park, I will be right there." When she ended the conversation, she tried to reach you on your cell phone to take you home, but her attempt came to nothing and she did not think about it any further - you had already put your phone on silent often enough to avoid being distracted.

After quickly downing a cup of coffee to wake herself up, she pulled her coat off the hook and slipped through the door into the day's events. The rain worsened on the way to the crime scene, washing every possible mess back into the sewers. When she got out, Amanda and Fin were already standing at the cordoned off area that had been created to protect the evidence from the rain. "What do we have?"

"A blood-spattered cell phone," the blonde expressed, gratefully accepting an evidence bag from another officer. She carefully placed the found object in it and handed it to her boss. "A cell phone? Why were we called?" the Sergent and the detective shrugged and raised their hands in question. "The caller thought it was a cell phone belonging to one of our colleagues, which is why we were notified because a significant amount of blood was found next to it."

Olivia nodded, looking worriedly at the phone in her hand. You had the same case around your phone, she had given it to you as a small gift. She turned it around so the screen was facing her and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the scratch on it. The brunette had almost caused the same one on your phone when she saved you from a bullet a couple months ago.

She always wanted to have it repaired but you would not let her - it was a memory for you. "Liv, are you okay?" Finn asked worriedly, watching as the color suddenly drained from his best friend's face. She nodded in response, looking back from the evidence to the paving stone. A good amount of blood that was not easy to ignore. "Yeah, it is just.."

The tough woman could not finish the sentence right away. The screen turned on on its own, showing a reminder notification on the display. Underneath you could clearly see two smiling faces smeared with light gray paint as a background image.

She recognized the image immediately. Olivia shot it herself when you were recoloring your bedroom together. Olivia swallowed hard, the phone shaking in her hands as she tried to suppress her rising panic. “It is y/n’s. It is her phone."

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orcaofmyheart99 · 2 months

Text

Good Omens WIPs from August 2023

WIP #1

Everyday by Buddy Holly

Insert the song lyrics while writing the story. Comfort/fix-it fic

Every day, it's a-getting closer

Going faster than a rollercoaster

Love like yours will surely come my way

A-hey, a-hey-hey

WIP #2 (Kind of did this one already but with a fix. It was called Torna a Casa)

Hurt/angst fic. Idea from Sonny and Raphael SVU

End with You idiot we could have been us

Bring them to tears no fix it

After a little while then write a fix it possibly just to be nice 🙂

WIP #2 (Take Me) To The World

Video editing idea

The world is better here. I know I’ve seen them both.

Story

When Crowley and Aziraphale first join humanity. Maybe Crowley is proposing to Aziraphale?

It was a nice day

Crowley and Aziraphale were standing on a luscious green cliff overlooking the ocean. This small scottish island had become a sanctuary. Clouds floated above them casting shadows upon the water, sunlight filtered through the nearby trees casting a soft golden glow. The water rippled. Sunlight made it sparkle. A soft sea breeze was blowing bringing the smell of salt and sea air towards Crowley and Aziraiphale. Moments like these is what Crowley cherished most. Earth was a beautiful place. But it was made perfect by being there with Aziraphale. As he gazed out upon the water, Crowley began to remember a song he once heard. Aziraphale had put him in charge of the book shop one day while he went out. Crowley had put on a random record. He had not realized that it was a record filled with various Broadway songs. One song stuck out in particular to him and was now filling his head currently.

#mac speaks #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months

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Scars: Bobby Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @trublu2u @yezzyyae @witches-unruly-heart @kmc1989

Bobby’s been told from an early age that he’s broken, unwanted. It’s a message that’s been carved into his soul through years of abuse and neglect in the foster system. Everyday when he looks in the mirror he sees those scars, the cigarette burns etched in a pattern up his torso.

When things start to get serious between the two of you, he’s shy about showing you his body. The echoes of his history litter his skin and he isn’t sure he’s ready for you to see the ugliness of his life.

In his world you’re the sunshine, the warmth on his skin as he steps out into the springtime air. You don’t know about his darkness, the nights he can’t get out of his own head because he’s reliving the suffering he’s endured.

All of that goes out of the window the evening that you undress for him. It’s been getting heated between the two of you, needy kisses and slow grinding on the couch that leads to you coming on his fingertips, his hand thrust into your jeans. You look beautiful underneath him, fucked out with swollen lips from his kisses.

“There’s something I need to show you.” You say in the aftermath, slipping from the couch and raising to your feet. “It’s the reason we’ve been taking things slow.”

You don’t look at him as you unbutton the blouse that you’re wearing, you strip off the fabric to reveal your skin and he sees he’s not the only one that’s been keeping secrets.

Four years ago, there was an SVU investigation into a sex trafficker called Herman Holmes. He used to brand the girls with his initials, always in the same place, upon the curve of the left breast. He wanted to be able to see it when he fucked them, to know what they belonged to him. SVU had managed to get an operative into the organisation, a female detective to posing as a madam. It had turned into a shitshow when he’d taken a shine to her, decided to make her one of his girls. Bobby knows the story, every cop in Manhattan does because it’s a UC’s worse nightmare.

When he sees the brand on your skin, the ridges of it bright pink against your flesh, his jaw clenches. You were missing for over fifteen hours, and he knows the kind of bad shit that can happen in that time.

When you see the expression on his face, he feels you withdrawing. You swallow hard, your gaze turning distance as you begin to button up your blouse.

“Yea.” You say focusing on the task. “I thought as much.”

It’s happened before, he can tell. Someone has looked at you and decided you’re not worth their time, their effort. They’ve told you that the trauma was too much to handle, that you’re too much. That’s not Bobby though, he sees the beauty in you, the compassion, the kindness.

He captures your hand before you can bolt, his fingers threading through yours as he draws you back into his lap.

“You’re not the only one who knows how cruel this world is.” He tells you, taking your palm and guiding it underneath the hem of his Henley. He exhales as your fingertips trace over one of the cigarette burns. “Who knows what it’s like to be marked by it.”

“Bobby…” You whisper and his thumb ghosts over the apple of your cheek.

“You’re not ugly.” He tells you, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I’m sorry you felt you had to hide this from me.”

“You know that goes both ways. You’re an attractive man, I’d be lucky to have you” You say as you look into his eyes and in that moment he believes you, because you’re the same you and him, both battered by the world, scarred by it but not broken, never broken.

“You do have me.” He tells you, his lips brushing over yours. “You’ll always have me.”

Love Bobby? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#bobby reyes #bobby reyes x reader #bobby reyes x you #law and order organized crime

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lesbehonestsstuff · 17 days

Text

Chapter 4

Summary: Alex and Casey are called to the precinct where they find Olivia trying to get a little girl to open up.

Warnings: usual svu stuff specifically child abuse this time a little more explicit

Chapter 4/?

"Let me take you home," Olivia offered once things had quieted down and they were given the all-clear on taking Niki with them. They gathered their things, Alex carrying both their briefcases and jackets while Casey still had Niki cradled in her arms, the girl snuggling closer against the redhead's chest, clearly still exhausted both emotionally and physically. The events of the day had taken their toll on her, and it clearly showed how much she needed to rest.

Elliot and Olivia grabbed their things as well, walking the women out to the elevator. "Hey, I can swing by a kids' store and grab some essentials for you guys before I head home," Elliot suggested, pressing the elevator button for them to get in. "I can get you guys the basics until you settle."

Casey and Alex exchanged glances at the offer. "You don’t have to, you should go home to Kathy and the kids; I'm sure they're waiting for you," Alex told him as she carefully laid her jacket over Niki's back as they made their way out into the cold city air.

Elliot waved off the protest, already making his way to his car. "Kathy will forgive me for this one," he insisted. "I'll make sure to stick to the essentials."

With a grateful nod, they accepted Elliot's offer, knowing that they could use all the help they could get and that it would really make their night easier, giving them one less thing to worry about. Besides, the man had three daughters; they were sure he knew better than them what to get. Alex opened the back door for Casey, noticing that Niki had fallen asleep again, snuggled under the jacket draped over her.

When they arrived at their apartment, Casey carefully laid Niki down on the couch, grateful when she stirred just a little bit but settled back down under the makeshift blanket of Alex's jacket. Alex sat with her while Olivia helped Casey get the guest bedroom ready. Alex couldn't stop looking at the tiny figure in front of her. Her long brown hair cascaded in loose waves, with strands of lighter hues woven throughout, catching the light of the room. Freckles were slightly sprinkled across her nose and cheeks, and now that her features were relaxed, Alex could see how tired she looked. Casey came over to sit next to her, grabbing her hand and playing with the ring that was around Alex’s finger, a habit she did subconsciously. She tucked Alex’s hair behind her ear and then pressed a kiss to her cheek, leaning against her as they both looked at the girl in front of them.

The doorbell rang, and Olivia went to answer it, letting Elliot – "I'll make sure to stick to the essentials" – Stabler into the penthouse. They watched him struggle to carry a ridiculous amount of bags in his arms. Olivia chuckled, helping him carry half of the bags inside. "I got everything you need," he announced proudly, setting the bags down on the dining table.

They met him at the table, looking dumbfounded at the amount of things Elliot bought. "We've got some clothes, pajamas, shoes, hair things that Elizabeth seems to love, a blanket, some bath things, stuffed animals, and a few toys," Elliot listed off, smiling as he pulled things out of the bag. "Oh, and I also grabbed some snacks and a coloring book to keep her entertained. You know, the basic stuff."

They smiled at him and let out a little laugh at how proud he looked of his shopping trip. "Thank you, Elliot," Casey said softly. "We really appreciate it."

With a reassuring pat on Casey's shoulder, Elliot offered a sympathetic smile. "Anytime," he replied sincerely. "And I'll come back tomorrow to check in on you guys, okay? You let me know if you need anything else."

As Elliot and Olivia bid them goodnight and left the apartment, Casey and Alex were left alone with Niki, the weight of their newfound responsibility settling over them like a heavy blanket. They worked together in silence to put away all of the things Elliot had brought, their thoughts swirling as they saw the way their guest bedroom started to fill with color and toys.

"We should get some actual food in her," Casey suggested as she folded the shirts Elliot had gotten and placed them in one of the drawers of the dresser. "We don’t know the last time she had a real meal, and she can't just live off of the chocolate Elliot gave her."

Alex nodded in agreement, her mind going through their options. "How about a pizza?" she decided, reaching for the phone. "It's quick and easy, and kids tend to love it."

Casey smirked at her wife and threw a pair of pants her way. “Right so it has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been craving it for the last week?” Alex pretended to be shocked by the accusation as she dialed the numbers and covered the end of the phone to defend herself. “I plead the fifth.” Casey raised her eyebrows and was quick to catch the pants that were thrown back at her, clearly aimed for her head.

Alex placed the order, Casey kissing her cheek as she walked out of the room to start trying to wake Niki up. She really didn't want to wake her, but they knew she had to eat something before she could actually go to sleep for the night. Her heart ached at the sight of the sleepy yet grumpy expression on the young girl's face as she started to wake up. Niki groaned in protest, her tiny hands rubbing at her eyes as she begrudgingly sat up, blinking up at them, her eyes wide with confusion as she adjusted to her surroundings, looking at the apartment with a look of wonder.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Casey cooed, her voice soft as she let the girl look around. "Remember how Alex and I told that lady that we would take care of you for now?" She waited until Niki nodded her head in understanding. “Well, this is our home. You're going to stay here with us for now if that's what you want.” She held out her hand, offering it for the girl to take, waiting until she made the move to reach out.

"I can stay here?" she asked, her voice filled with hope and apprehension. Casey nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yep, if you want to," she confirmed. Niki reached out and grabbed Casey's hand, a sigh of relief going through Casey as she gently squeezed it.

Alex, who had been watching from the doorway, made her way into the room and into Niki's line of sight so as not to startle her. “Pizza is almost here. You hungry, sweetheart?”

“I can have dinner?” she asked, looking at them with a shocked expression, breaking their hearts as they saw how deprived she seemed to be of something that should be a basic thing. “Of course, you can have dinner, Niki," Alex reassured, her voice gentle. With a hesitant nod, Niki allowed herself to be guided to the kitchen table, her movements sluggish with exhaustion. When the pizza arrived, Casey and Alex wasted no time in giving Niki a slice, watching as she took her first hesitant bite. They could tell she was hungry, but she ate slowly, almost like she was apprehensive about the whole situation. But as she got more comfortable and saw that she really was allowed to eat, she started to relax and actually enjoy the food in front of her.

"Now, how about we get you all cleaned up?" Casey suggested gently, her voice warm and reassuring. "We'll give you a nice, warm bath, and then you can go back to sleep."

At the mention of a bath, Niki's eyes widened with fear, her tiny frame trembling with apprehension as she slightly pushed herself back. "I-I don't want a bath," she whispered.

The sight of Niki's fear made them realize that there has to be something about bath time that must evoke fear for the young girl. But they exchanged a glance, silently communicating that it was something necessary and that they were determined to make the experience as gentle and comforting as possible.

"We understand, sweetheart," Alex said softly, her voice filled with compassion. "But how about we make it fun? We'll add lots of bubbles, and you can play with some of the bath toys that Elliot brought."

Niki hesitated for a moment, clearly debating what she wanted to do. But the promise of bubbles and toys seemed to sway her, and after a moment of hesitation, she nodded reluctantly.

Gently, Alex let Niki pick out some toys while Casey got the water ready. Once in the bathroom, they knelt beside her, offering her a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to be scared, sweetheart. We’re here to keep you safe. If you really, really don’t want to, we can figure something out. But we know you are very brave, and you can do this.”

She looked at the water and then back at them, and they noticed that the apprehension didn’t seem to be to the water but rather that she was nervous when looking at them. “Ok.”

As they gently helped her undress, their hearts sank at the sight of the bruises and marks that marred her delicate skin. They knew they were there from the medical report, but seeing them was something else, and it nearly punched the air out of their lungs.

Niki's lip trembled as tears welled in her eyes, her small voice barely a whisper as she looked at anywhere but them. "I didn't want you to see them," she choked out, her words laced with shame and fear.

As they listened to Niki's words; it was clear now that the reason why she didn’t want the bath was not the bath itself but them seeing the evidence of what she’d been through. "Oh, sweetheart, you are so brave and so strong," Casey murmured, her voice thick with emotion as she gently lifted Niki’s head to get her to look at them. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You didn't deserve any of this.” But Niki just shook her head as trails of tears started to fall from her hazel eyes. “Yes, I do; it was my fault.” Casey cupped her cheek and used her thumb to brush away the tears that were steadily falling. “No, baby, no it wasn't.”

Alex nodded in agreement, her voice gentle yet firm. “We need you to understand that we would never, ever do anything to hurt you. We're here to keep you safe, no matter what," she said softly. "And we're going to do everything we can to make sure you never have to be scared again."

When they were sure that she was okay and that she took their words in, Niki allowed herself to be lowered into the warm water, her eyes lighting up a bit as she watched the bubbles dance around her. The tears, dirt, and some of the pain washed away as they carefully bathed her, a peaceful scene building around them as they watched the child play with a rubber duck with a police cap that they were sure Elliot had loved and picked out the minute he saw it. Niki seemed to share the interest in it. She splashed and played quietly, even laughing a little bit when she accidentally sent bubbles flying against Alex, who in retaliation for Casey laughing at her, gave her wife a bubble beard when she wasn't looking, earning another giggle from Niki. When the water got cold and she was cleaned and quickly crashing again, they dried her with a fluffy towel and dressed her in a fresh set of pajamas, standing her on the counter as they worked together to disentangle her hair. Once ready, she reached for Casey again and very quickly snuggled back into her arms, her thumb finding its way to her mouth as she sought comfort in the familiar gesture.

As Alex gathered up Niki's clothes to bring them to the hamper, Niki's hand shot out to grab Alex's sleeve, her grip tight on it. "Don’t go," she pleaded, her voice muffled and her eyes already closed. With a soft smile, Alex leaned down to press a kiss to Niki's forehead, her arms wrapping around Casey and Niki. Both women looked at the resilient little girl who had captured their hearts in such a short time

#alex cabot #casey novak #casey novak x alex cabot #calex #law and order svu #Elliot would be a great uncle

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fandom-imagines-stories · 9 months

Text

Annapolis

Season Two Episode Nine

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 4574

Series Masterlist

Summary: Based on season four episode 24. Y/N breaks protocol when Spencer is infected with a deadly virus.

Notes: Like usual, I’m going to be using some scenes from the episode (Amplification) and making some up for the story. I know that this definitely isn’t super realistic and that Y/N would definitely just be arrested or something, but it’s all *for the plot.*

You focused on the twirl of your spoon in the mug while several expectant gazes wore you down from across the table. The spring morning filled the air with a slight breeze, but you felt heat rise in your face under the three agent’s stares.

“What?” You asked innocently.

Emily raised a brow, JJ gave you a knowing smile, and Penelope looked ready to burst.

You took a sip of your coffee. “Have I mentioned how much I hate profilers?”

“It’s not our fault that loverboy has a terrible poker face,” Emily said.

Penelope beamed. “He’s been over the moon for weeks now and I can think of one specific reason that would make him act that way.”

You blushed, shaking your head but couldn’t hide your smile.

“So you are back together!” Penelope squealed, earning a few glances from other cafe patrons.

“We’re still figuring things out,” you said. You held your coffee in your hands, letting the warmth meet your palms as you rolled it back and forth nervously. “It’s not as simple as it used to be.”

“You love him. He loves you. That seems pretty simple to me,” she said. JJ and Emily gave her a look. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been heartbroken for them for the past six months.”

“Y/N’s right,” JJ said. “Things like this aren’t easy in a relationship. It takes time.”

Emily nodded in agreement, though Penelope couldn’t stop grinning at you. You decided to throw her a little bit of a bone, so to speak.

“We started reading again, which has been nice,” you started. You felt a little like a schoolgirl describing her first date, but maybe a little juvenile lightness was what you all needed. “Sherlock Holmes. I think it helps us sleep better.”

“Does this mean you’re moving back in?” Emily wondered.

“And miss out on sleeping on my brother’s air mattress? Why would I ever do that?” You snarked.

She chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Penelope gushed. “I love love.”

“Speaking of which, enough about me,” you said. “What about you and Kevin?”

While she went into an excited ramble about her boyfriend not moving across seas on a new job, the final member of your coffee date- and your sometimes roommate- walked up to the table.

“Sorry I’m late,” Haley grimaced. “I had to take Jack to school and the parking lot there is a nightmare.”

“Oh my god, that reminds me,” JJ said, turning to you. “How is Hotch? He went for a bit of a spin on our last case.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s fine. Or at least that’s what he says every time I ask, which I wouldn’t have to do if he didn’t use his SVU as a battering ram.”

“He does have a knack for head injuries, doesn’t he?” Haley laughed.

“Good thing he has a thick skull,” Emily teased.

“Har har.” You took another drink of coffee. “All I’m saying is that I would love to go one week without one of you guys doing something stupidly heroic and almost dying.”

JJ laughed, shaking her head. “Good luck with that.”

Whatever light mood was left from that morning quickly evaporated as the team stood around the table, a container of pills in each hand. They didn’t even know if the Cipro would be effective. A new strain, Dr. Kimura said. Men in military uniforms bustled around the bullpen.

The weight of what was going on settled into everyone’s minds.

“This is really happening?” Prentiss uttered.

Hotch nodded. “We knew this could happen,” he said gravely. “We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it.” He dumped the pills into his mouth.

Rossi held up his cup.

“Jin dan,” he toasted. “May you live a hundred years.”

The rest of the team took the medicine and tried not to imagine what would happen if it didn’t work. With their assignments in mind, everyone started to disperse, but Reid stayed toward the back. Dr. Kimura gave him a grim nod as she left with the others. He hid the fear that was clouding his mind.

He pulled Hotch aside as they walked out.

“Y/N has an interview with an inmate awaiting trial at JRDC,” he whispered. “That’s in Annapolis.”

Hotch swallowed. “I know.”

“And you don’t think we should tell her not to go?” Reid exclaimed.

“We can’t.”

“We have no idea where the unsub will strike next. What if she goes out for lunch in a crowded area and-”

“Reid.” Hotch stared at him intensely. “We can’t. The media blackout order means nobody can know. If this gets out, people will panic.”

He knew he was right. Reid wanted to remain detached and logical, but all he could think about was the image of the woman he loved choking on her own blood.

“I’m just getting her back, Hotch,” he pleaded. “I can’t risk losing her again.”

Hotch put a hand on his shoulder. “Then we focus on solving this as quickly as possible.” He hid his own terror behind a mask. Inside, he was just as worried as the younger agent and wanted nothing more than to tell Y/N not to leave the apartment. He wanted to call Haley and tell her to pick up Jack from school. He wanted to protect his team from the danger they were facing. But he couldn’t. “Now let’s get started.”

While Hotch stayed at the office-turned-base of operations, Reid went with Dr. Kimura to speak with the surviving victims of the attack in the park. All the while, both had you in the back of their mind.

Unaware of the situation, you drove into Annapolis with Sir Arthur Conan Doyal in your head. Spencer’s voice reading the words of the brilliant detective made you smile. The sun streamed into your windows and traffic couldn't even seem to bother you. It was a perfect morning.

You were about to pull into the Jennifer Road Detention Center parking lot when your phone rang. It was Sonia.

“Hey, I know you’ve already driven out, but I just got a call from the warden. Apparently, Sergio Marks got into a fight this morning and is in critical condition,” she explained.

“You’re kidding,” you sighed. “And here I was looking forward to being stuck in a room with an accused wife killer.”

Despite your sarcasm, you were actually kind of bummed to miss out on the interview. With Marks’ court date coming up, you’d been hoping to compare his behavior before and during the trial.

“I’ll head back then,” you said. “I’ve got some other cases I can look into today.”

“The other studies can wait,” Sonia said. “Why don’t you take the day off?” Before you could argue, she continued. “You’ve been working like a dog ever since you got back. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You don’t have to prove anything to me, sweetie. You could spend some time with that cute FBI boyfriend of yours.”

“I think they’re on a case,” you laughed.

“Then take some time to just breathe, honey. I know Maryland isn’t exactly a vacation spot, but I’m sure you’ll find something there. I heard there’s a nice bookstore in town,” she said. “Your work will be here when you get back.”

“I guess I can go shopping or something,” you shrugged. She was right. Annapolis wasn’t a big city, but you should be able to find something to entertain yourself. Besides, you’d probably just go home and worry about the BAU while they were on whatever case they had now.

“I’ll sort things out with Marks. Have a nice time.” Sonia hung up, leaving you with the rest of the day to relax.

Prentiss stood amongst the bustle of people, staring into the bookstore as the men in hazmat suits closed the blinds. If they found evidence of the virus, it was proof that the bookstore was the site of the unsub’s test run.

The victims had died within three hours of being admitted to the hospital.

Morgan hung up the phone with JJ. Prentiss looked at all of the civilians surrounding them.

“Look at all these people just going about their lives,” she said. “If they only knew what we were doing here.”

Morgan scowled. “It’s better that they don’t.” He said something else, but Prentiss couldn’t hear him. Her scanning eyes settled on a familiar face across the street.

“Oh my god,” she muttered. “Is that Y/N?”

Morgan turned his head just as you noticed them. To both of their dread, you crossed the street, a beaming smile spread across your face.

“Hey strangers,” you greeted, seeming more chipper than Derek had seen you in a while. “What are you guys doing here?” From their serious expressions, it only took you a moment to understand. “Oh.”

“Why are you here?” Derek asked.

“I was going to look at some books, but the store owner apparently got really sick and died a few days ago…” You trailed off, making more connections in your mind. “Is that why the team is here?”

The two exchanged a look.

It didn’t take your degree in psychology to realize that they were scared.

“Derek, talk to me.”

They both seemed to receive a message through their earpieces. Derek pulled you aside, weary of the attention of bystanders picking up on the tension in your tone.

“Everything’s fine,” he said. “We just can’t talk about the case.”

The firmness in his tone and the tightness of his grip told you everything and nothing at the same time.

“Okay,” you nodded. Your eyes went to the bookstore behind him and it’s closed blinds. Something was going on. “Be careful, okay?”

“Always am.” He faked his usual smirk, hoping to calm you down.

“I guess I’ll see you back in D.C.” You smiled to convince him he had.

If you weren’t going to interview a murderer, then maybe you could figure out what the hell had two of the toughest people you knew terrified.

Whatever it was, no one would answer their phone. Aaron was radio silence and you hadn’t heard from Spencer since earlier in the morning. You checked the news every couple of minutes to see if anything had leaked, but all you could find was something about a park being shut down for methane in the sewers.

“That must be connected,” you muttered to yourself. You kept racking your brain for something that made sense. If it were a bomb threat, Derek and Emily wouldn't have just been standing around waiting for it to explode. A shooter, they probably wouldn’t have kept it under wraps as intensely as they were.

The only thing that you could think of was chemical or biowarfare. If someone was going after people with some kind of poisonous gas or airborne antigen, it might explain why everything had to be kept such a secret. And the government could have called in the BAU to help them find who was responsible before they struck again.

You tried your brother again, but there was still no answer. Something was definitely wrong.

“If no one is going to help me,” you said, pulling up to the library, “then I am going to help myself.”

Morgan and Reid observed the house with an uneasy air between them. It looked so normal, but inside more agents and scientists were tirelessly searching for traces of the disease or mediums to transport it. So far, they hadn’t turned up anything.

“This guy just had people over for a charity event last month,” Morgan noted. Something about all of this felt off. Too simple.

“We should probably take a look around anyway,” Reid said.

The two agents started down the driveway to the other side of the house. So focused on the matter at hand, Reid caught his hand on a rose bush along the path. The thorn scratched the back of his hand, creating a gash he chose to ignore.

“So Y/N’s in the area,” Morgan said grimly. “Prentiss and I saw her when we were checking out the bookstore.” He shook his head, eyebrow quirked in a mildly impressed expression. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she figures all this out even with the media blackout.”

“She’s taught a course on bio-terrorism, so I’m sure she’ll pick up on something,” Reid shrugged. He’d been trying not to think about you and had been unsuccessful. Just knowing you could get caught up in all this made it hard to focus on anything else. But Hotch was right. The sooner this was solved, the sooner you’d be out of harm’s way. “But the higher-ups seem to have this pretty locked down. I’m sure she’s just going about her day like any other.”

Morgan eyed him. “Right.”

The older agent’s phone rang and he answered, listening as Prentiss told him what they’d figured out at the lab.

Reid continued on through the garden, jumping as a sprinkler spouted to life. The sound of the water covered whatever Morgan was saying. The sliding door to the garden led into what he quickly recognized as Dr. Nichols’ office. From there, he saw two things and processed them in the same thought.

The first was the body of Dr. Lawrence Nichols. A large head wound and a pool of drying blood signaled that the scientist had been dead for a while.

The second was a broken vial spilling white powder onto the floor.

“Reid?” Morgan called after him.

He didn’t think of anything after that. He just rushed to the door and slid it closed just as Morgan caught up with him.

“Morgan get back,” he exclaimed. “Get back!”

“What are you doing?”

“Get out of here. Believe me. Get back.” All he could think about was keeping Morgan away from the substance he was sure had already infected himself.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, panic rising in his tone. “Reid, open the door.”

Reid just looked at him, locking the door with eyes that betrayed his distress. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked with the toppling realization of what this really meant.

He breathed in the substance. He contracted this new, terrifying strand of anthrax.

He was going to die.

No. Reid ran a shaking hand down his face. He could figure this out. There had to be a cure. He could do this.

“I’m calling Hotch,” Morgan said, pacing hurriedly in front of the glass.

“I’ll be fine,” Reid lied. “I have all of Nichols’ notes. I can find the cure.”

“We’re getting you to the hospital.”

Reid shook his head. “You need to get away. I don’t know if any of the powder got into the air.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Morgan, now!” The firmness in the younger agent’s voice took Morgan by surprise.

He moved out to the garden, making sure Reid was still in view, and made the call.

By the time Hotch and the others arrived, Reid had made up his mind. And, despite Morgan’s protests, their unit chief agreed that the best thing for Reid to do was to work to find the cure somewhere in the lab.

Until a car pulled up across the street, having followed the sirens after spending most of the afternoon researching locals in the library.

You spotted the dark hair and neat suit as you came up the sidewalk. People in hazmat suits hurried in and out of the house your brother stood in front of. He bore a similar expression to what you’d seen on the other BAU members earlier, only now Morgan looked even worse standing beside him.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry this is a restricted area.” A man in uniform stepped in front of you.

“I know them,” you muttered, trying to look over his shoulder.

He grabbed your arm. “If you won’t leave voluntarily, I’ll have to remove you.”

“What’s going on?”

“Ma’am-”

“Aaron!”

Your brother’s head whipped around at the sound of his name and his expression went from controlled worry to a furious glare in no time.

“Okay so this is bad,” you said to yourself.

“I’m going to have to take you back to your car,” the man in uniform sighed, starting to pull you away.

“Get off of me.” You tried to yank away, but his grip was firm. “Aaron! See, I know them.”

The man kept pulling you backward until another voice shouted at him.

“Hey, let her go!” Agent Morgan ordered, darting across the lawn over to you.

Aaron walked slowly, but you could tell by the tension in his movements that he was anything but calm.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?” Derek snapped.

“I knew something was wrong so I did some digging and then I followed the sirens,” you said, still trying to free your arm from the soldier. “What the hell is going on?”

“I told her she had to leave-” The soldier tried pulling again.

Derek put a hand on his arm. “I said let her go.”

The man hesitated, but eventually released you and went to join one of his superiors.

“This clearly isn’t a normal case,” you said, crossing your arms. “What’s happening?”

“If I could tell you, I would have, but you really can’t be here.” His jaw tensed and his eyes flicked down to the necklace you always wore. A locket in the shape of a book. The present you’d gotten from Spencer.

A shock of icy fear rushed through you. “Derek, where’s Spence?”

“You can’t be here.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s inside,” Aaron said. From the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, you knew.

“This is Dr. Lawrence Nichols’ house,” you said.

“Yes.”

“He wrote studies on anthrax.”

Aaron sighed. “Yes.”

“How did you know that?” Derek asked.

“You're not the only ones who know how to investigate something,” you said. You pushed past them, following the trail of panicked people in hazmat suits around the house, just where you could see a glass door.

Aaron caught you before you could get any closer.

“I have to see him.” You fought against his arms as they locked around you. “Let me go, Aaron.”

“We don’t know if there are still traces of the substance outside of the lab. Even if it’s sealed we can’t-”

“I don’t care. I can’t just leave him in there. Do you know what this will do to his body? I’ve studied anthrax, Aaron. I can’t just… I can’t…”

“The best thing you can do for Reid is let him work.” Your brother turned you around, keeping his hands on your arms so you couldn’t get away. “He’ll find the cure and he’ll be fine.”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t still be here, waiting for him to die,” you snapped.

Aaron swallowed, closed his eyes, and didn’t say anything else.

“Keep an eye on her,” he told Derek. “We still have to find the apprentice.”

He stormed off and Derek gave you a look that said he’d stop you before you even thought of taking another step.

Inside, Spencer held his cell phone with a trembling hand and coughed in between his words.

On the other end, a saddened voice greeted him, lacking her usual pep.

“Hey, Reid.”

“Reid, wow,” he teased. “No witty Garcia greeting for me?”

Garcia grimaced, trying to laugh for him. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

He took a deep breath. While part of his brain was scrambling to figure out where Nichols might have the cure that could save him, the other side was plaguing his thoughts of who he was leaving behind.

What would happen to his mom? How many times would the nurses have to tell her that her only son was dead before her brain allowed her to realize it? And even if she did, how long before she would forget and have to go through the grief all over again?

And then there was Y/N.

Just when things started looking better…

“Garcia,” he said, holding back a fit of coughing, “do you think you could do something for me?”

You didn’t know how long you sat there, waiting to hear whether or not the area had been cleared. Derek stayed with you and you explained how you figured out what was going on.

“You scare me sometimes, you know that?” He teased.

He was on and off the phone. You could tell it was with Spence by the way Derek’s eyes kept slipping over to you as he talked. But telling Spencer you were there before they figured anything out would only distract him. At least, that’s what Derek kept telling you.

After a while, Dr. Kimura called Derek back and said he could talk to Spencer. Despite your protests, he told you to wait and so you stood back while he went inside. You could hear Spencer’s voice, but your brain wouldn’t focus on what they were saying. You just wished you could hold him again.

His coughing may as well have been a flatline in your ears.

“Go help Hotch,” he told Derek.

Spencer stood with his arms at his side as he was sprayed down. His hair hung limply around his face and his purple shirt now clung to his chest.

Morgan shook his head. “Hotch has plenty of people helping him.

“He needs you more than I do.”

“Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital.” Derek caught you in the corner of his eye, stepping closer to the doorway.

“I’m about to get naked,” Spencer said, leveling an irritated stare on the other agent’s face. “So they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?”

Derek looked from you to Spencer to Dr. Kimura. He waved his hand, motioning for you to come in.

“Can she stay with him?”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Who is this?” Kimura asked. “Is she another member of your team?”

Derek scoffed, giving you a small smirk. “She may as well be.” He nodded at the scientist. “Take care of him.”

He hurried off, patting your back as he went.

Your eyes didn’t leave Spencer. In other circumstances, you might have laughed. He looked like a wet puppy with his dripping hair and soaked clothes. But another cough escaped his lips and his hazel stare burned into you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked again.

“Would you believe me if I said I was in the neighborhood?”

“This isn’t funny. You can’t be here,” he said. “Protocol aside, do you have any idea how dangerous this situation is?” His shoulders jerked with another cough. He unbuttoned his shirt and kicked off his shoes.

“I don’t care how many rules I’m breaking, I’m not leaving you.” You held up a hand. “I’m safer here than out there waiting for this guy to strike again.”

His frown deepened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably, hands reaching for his belt.

“Can you…?” He trailed off.

“Oh,” you blinked. “Right. Yeah.” You turned away, listening to the water against his now bear skin.

He felt ridiculous, being self-conscious now when you’d seen him without his clothes on plenty of times. But this felt different. He’d let himself fall into this problem and somehow, shielding you from seeing him this way, seeing him so weak, made it easier in his head. He could face it as long as you didn’t have to.

Dr. Kimura allowed you to ride with them to the hospital as long as you stayed out of the way. But now, seeing him in the hospital shirt with sweat glistening on his forehead, you knew you couldn’t just sit there.

“Is there anything I can do?” You begged.

“We’re going to test Nichols’ inhaler to see if he hid the cure there like Dr. Reid suggested,” Dr. Kimura explained. She put a stethoscope to Spencer’s chest as he continued coughing. You didn’t need to have a medical degree to know he was getting worse. “How are you feeling Dr. Reid?”

“My throat’s a little dry.” He kept his eyes screwed shut, focusing on what he was saying. “But other than that I feel… fin. Feel fin.” He opened his eyes as nonsense fell from his lips. His brows furrowed in frustration while his irises widened with panic.

Your eyes scanned his shaking form, bile rising in your throat. He reached up for you. On his hand, you spotted the cut.

Not good. Definitely not good.

When he coughed this time, a trickle of blood dripped out of his mouth.

“Driver, faster,” Dr. Kimura ordered.

“Re-,” Spencer stammered, gripping your hand as tight as his muscles allowed. “Ret.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Reel. Rem. R-Read.” He used his other hand to point to his bag, left by Morgan when he took it out of the car.

You reached into it and retrieved the leather-bound volume you’d spent the last week reading together. It made your breath catch in your throat. You opened to the page he’d left off on the night before.

The Final Problem.

With your eyes trained on the page in front of you, the scene of Sherlock Holmes’s death struck a little too close for comfort.

What if this was it? What if you’d wasted all of the time you had left with him in these past few months?

Your hands shook. You wanted a drink.

Derek sat beside you, distracting himself with the hospital jello and a magazine.

You reached the end of the story, but the words caught in your throat, drowned out by threatening cries.

“...and if I have now been compelled to make a clear statement of his career it is due to those injudicious champions who have endeavored to clear his memory by attacks upon him whom I shall ever regard as the best and the wisest man whom I have ever known,” Spencer said groggily. His eyes peered open, landing on Morgan. “Are you eating Jell-O?”

You let out a sob of relief and restrained yourself from throwing your arms around him.

Derek smiled. “Hey doc, look who’s back,” he said to Dr. Kimura, who was speaking to another doctor in the doorway.

“Is there any more Jell-O?” Spence asked, his thoughts still hazy from waking up.

While Derek and the doctor informed Spencer of everything that had happened- including the recovery of the other victims thanks to him knowing where the cure was hidden- you just watched on with awe tightening in your chest, turning to regret.

You’d taken so much for granted and it took almost losing him to see it.

Spencer turned his head toward you, a small smile playing on his lips when he saw your face.

“I could hear you,” he said. “Reading, I mean.”

“You should have picked a happier story,” you teased through your tears.

He chuckled weakly. “Sorry.”

Derek ushered Dr. Kimura out, giving the two of you a little more privacy.

You leaned over, pressing your lips to Spencer’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” you cried.

Spence lifted a hand, wiping away your tears with all the energy he could muster.

“For what?”

Setting the book aside, you took his hand in yours.

“For not coming home sooner.”

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #dr. spencer reid x reader #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #dr. spencer reid #matthew gray gubler

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specialfanficunit · 1 year

Text

Day 1, Story 1 of #SVULoveInTheAir💕

Prompt #160: Beauty and The Beast

👩🏻🔥🧔🏻

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44705806

and

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14192904

#SVU Love in the Air #SVU #Bensler #EO #Fanfiction #Law and Order SVU #Olivia Benson #Elliot Stabler

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saiilorstars · 1 month

Text

Ch. 60: The Waiting Game

Previous chapters // Montserrat’s masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing: Rafael Barba x OC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @averyhotchner @abzidabzy @hellofutur @foxesandmagic @xovalliegirlxo @sam-i–am @kmc1989 @midmourn @choosejoyangel

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message

When Montserrat woke up from her Nyquill-induced nap, she very quickly realized she slept way more hours than she intended to. It was past noon, almost four. Granted she was truly well rested but that was not the point. She still felt mentally exhausted and wasn't equipped for what had to come next. She had to finally call Lucia and tell her what happened — it was the worst conversation she ever had with the woman. Lucia was livid with Montserrat, to say the least.

"How could you not tell me before!? Why are you barely telling me!?"

Montserrat could barely give her reasons when Lucia went on a rampage in the Spanish and English language to the point where Montserrat couldn't dream of understanding. The only thing Montserrat managed to hear was that Lucia was on her way to the hospital and pretty much cut all ties with his son's girlfriend.

Great. That would be fun explaining to Rafael when he woke up. It was definitely about the last thing he needed in his life right now. After that, Montserrat soon found out that somehow Casey had gotten involved with the whole thing.

"Yeah, that was my fault," Kara said with a hand raised in the air. "I suggested it."

"Why?" Montserrat couldn't understand what a robbery had to do with her cousin at the moment. Then again, she was only really thinking with about a 50% capacity.

Kara understood her mistake too late and was left squandering for a reasonable excuse (otherwise this time Sonny would have a true reason to kill her). "Well, uh, Casey's another prosecutor and she'll maybe take the case? If they find the guy?"

"It's just not her case yet," Montserrat insisted, although it seemed like the heat was now going more towards the situation rather than Kara (or Casey for that matter). "Nobody's been murdered."

"And it'll stay like that," Kara jumped on the chance to provide actual support to her friend. It was hard thinking this could turn into a homicide case rather than attempted murder. "You'll see."

Montserrat would've been more convinced if she didn't have other things on her mind. She kept getting voice-mail for Lucia's number, only reiterating how angry the woman was with her.

"She'll come around," Kara kept insisting as well, "She's stunned, like you were when you first got the call. It's just different. She's his mother, after all. Give her some days."

Montserrat nodded only because there was nothing else she could do, but it didn't mean it wasn't nagging at her in the meantime. "I need to go back to the hospital," she told Kara after lunch. She did Kara the solid of sticking around for that mealtime but it was about all she would do now. She'd been away from the hospital for way too long.

"What are you talking about? It's only been a couple hours," Kara pointed out. She would rather Montserrat stay for a bit more until she was less anxious and stressed.

"It's past noon now!"

"So?" Kara would love to hear an adequate reason why the time even mattered. "Montserrat, you need to rest."

"I already did!" Montserrat exclaimed. "Way more than I planned!"

Kara's eyes flickered to the side for a moment. The nyquil was still under wraps. Her phone started ringing and seeing it was Sonny, she urged Montserrat to wait for another 5 minutes. "Just let me take the call and see what's happened, okay?"

Montserrat groaned. "Fine! But I am leaving as soon as you're done, with or without you!"

Kara nodded and hurried to take the call. Montserrat took the first seconds to try and calm herself down. She didn't want to actually fight with Kara, not with anyone for that matter. They were all walking on eggshells around her already, thinking she was a ticking time bomb. It was hard staying afloat not knowing what the next day would bring, or even the next hour. Tears stung get eyes just thinking about the uncertainty.

Hearing the knock on the door somehow startled her greatly. She went to open it, presuming it would be Sonny on the other side only to find her father instead.

"Dad!" She gasped, stumbling back a step.

"Montserrat, how — woah! What's happened to you?" Thomas of course referred to his daughter's face of anguish.

Immediately, Montserrat whirled around, eyes wide as she took a few steps away from her father. She tried wiping her eyes quickly. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I got the day off and since it's been a while, I thought we could have lunch,, but..." Thomas trailed off, reaching forward for his daughter's shoulder. He gently turned her around and saw the same face as before, only this time it was slightly redder from the fervent rubbing at the eyes. "Now I'm seeing it's longer than I thought. Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Dad," Montserrat shook her father's hand off her shoulder. "Just a rough day, that's all."

"No, no, no," Thomas shook his head, "Don't try to kid me. I know you, Montserrat. You've been crying and it looks like it's been going on for a while. What's happened?"

"Nothing, sheesh!" Montserrat exclaimed. Of course she would've been more convincing if her voice hadn't shaken towards the end. How the hell am I a detective? "Look, I can't do lunch today. Can we schedule another day?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Thomas declared, crossing his arms, "It looks like you've got explaining to do, young lady."

Montserrat glared at her father. This was the last thing she needed right now. Despondence, anxiety, and anger mixed into one did not bode well for anybody in the room. "Dad, I don't have time for this. Can we do this another day, please?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow at his daughter. Usually it was all he needed to warn her she was crossing a line with him.

She still knew that.

But she didn't back down this time.

"You've got 5 seconds to tell me what's going on with you," Thomas warned. "Five…four…"

Montserrat gawked at her father with incredulity. "Dad, you can't treat me like I'm five—"

"Three…two—"

"Dad, seriously!"

"One—"

"I SAID STOP!" Montserrat unintentionally yelled at her father.

Thomas was dumbfounded with such a frantic reaction from his daughter. Tears were coming to Montserrat's eyes and though it was partially out of guilt, there was something deeper going on. "Montserrat," he tried again, softly, "Sweetheart, what's—"

"Can you just go? I'm actually leaving right now too," Montserrat gestured to the door behind Thomas. "I have to—"

"Montserrat!" Kara called from the hallway seconds before emerging. "Sonny says he'll be by in 15 and he can take us to the hospital."

"Hospital!?" Thomas exclaimed.

Kara's eyes widened. She had no idea they were no longer alone. "Oops…"

Montserrat let out a heavy sigh. "Dad—"

"Why do you need to go to the hospital!?" Thomas started demanding. "Are you hurt?" He went to check himself but Montserrat swatted his hands away.

"Dad, stop!"

"Why do you need to go!? Do you feel alright? What am I saying — it's obvious you're not feeling well! You've been crying!"

"She has," Kara agreed solemnly.

"KARA!" Montserrat said loudly enough to make Kara flinch. "SHUT UP!"

"Don't yell at Kara like that," Thomas reprimanded his daughter, "Answer my question. Why are you going to the hospital right now?"

"Because…" Montserrat racked her head for a good answer that wouldn't give away such a terrible situation.

"Are you hurt?"

"No!"

"Then why—"

"Oh, just stop!" Montserrat resorted to pleading, something downright shocking to her father. "Please! Just stop!" Tears rolled down her cheeks as the weight of each of her problems finally culminated into one heavy load on her shoulders. "I'm not hurt! At least not physically because trust me, everything else right now hurts! I'm going to the hospital because my boyfriend's there because he's been shot, okay!? He's been shot and he hasn't woken up since it happened and I want to be there when he does — if he does! Now please stop berating me and just—" Montserrat ran into her father's arms where she finally burst into tears.

Thomas was utterly stunned. For the first couple of seconds, nothing of what Montserrat said had sunk in so while she hugged him, his arms were awkwardly on either side of him. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, he met Kara's gaze. She nodded to confirm everything Montserrat had said. Her grim expression helped sell it too.

"When...when did you get a boyfriend?" Thomas looked down at his daughter but at the question, Montserrat only whimpered and retreated further into him, desperate to be hugged back. Thomas slowly did so, bringing one hand over her back and the other behind her head. "O-okay, um…that's...that's...bad..." He sighed. He was terrible when it came to things like these. Montserrat's teenage years had been quite an adventure in terms of boyfriends and dating but now at 30? He didn't know which age was worse. "I'm—I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he ultimately said, "Really. I — how did this happen?"

Montserrat pulled away to take a deep breath. Her face was stained with tears. "A robbery. The guy was trying to rob the shop Rafael was at and then he just shot...he shot…"

Kara remained absolutely silent and lowered her head. It killed her to keep the truth of the situation a secret from Montserrat. But if she knew the truth, it would make her feel even worse, she reminded herself.

"Okay, okay," Thomas cupped Montserrat's face, "Wipe those tears. We can go to the hospital right now."

"You'd come with me?" Montserrat sniffed. "You're not mad I didn't tell you—"

"It does not matter right now," Thomas said, "Besides, you're a grown woman — as tough as that is to deal with — and you can make whatever choices you want."

"I was going to tell you. That's why I asked about having dinner, remember?"

Thomas nodded. "Yeah, and I told you I was going out on a trip for a whole month. Okay, that was my fault then."

"Dad, you would really like him. I mean, he's sort of a smart-ass but then again so is Gael."

Thomas let out a low laugh. "Oh, is it just Gael?"

"Of course, why do you ask?"

Thomas barely held his next laugh in. "Right." He gave Montserrat a kiss on the forehead. "Are you ready to go?"

Montserrat nodded fairly quickly. "Yes, please, let's go!"

"Kara?" Thomas looked at the blonde behind them.

Kara waved them off with a hand. "I'll wait for my boyfriend. He was already on his way. Plus, I think there'll be a lot of talking done on that drive."

Thomas wholeheartedly agreed with her. His eyes drifted over to Montserrat who had the energy to appear more nervous than before. "Ready?"

Montserrat wasn't so sure anymore. Still, a ride to the hospital meant she would practically do anything.

~0~

Thomas started slowly, cautiously, and for that Montserrat appreciated but it didn't make things any less awkward nor tense.

"Dating your co-worker — isn't that against the rules?" Thomas wondered out loud. He stopped at an upcoming red light, giving him the opportunity to glance at his daughter.

Her tear-stained face was finally getting a glimpse of light. She had stopped crying for the moment — she just needed to clean her face.

"Not if you disclose," she answered quietly, "Which we did."

"Ah, okay, um...when was that?"

"Dunno, two months ago? Time sort of blurred…"

"Time 'blurred'?" Thomas let out a small chuckle.

Montserrat glanced at him, eyebrows knitted together. "What?" Her voice couldn't go any louder than a quiet tone. If not, she would've demanded the explanation.

"Nothing...it's just...usually when you feel like time has 'blurred', it's because you've been having a good time," Thomas explained. At the green light, he was no longer able to look at her.

Maybe it was for the best.

Montserrat shifted in her seat. She was not about to go into detail about her relationship to her father. "It's been different," she left it at that. It wasn't a lie but it didn't outright expose her either.

Thomas hummed. "I can see that. I've never seen you so distressed over someone like this."

"To be fair, none of my other boyfriends have ever been shot."

Thomas let out a small laugh. "True, but I also meant in general. I've noticed you've been more, uh, content lately. Because I don't know what made you leave behind your old job and place in Queens, but I know that you haven't been happy in a while. I like the change."

"I'm sorry for that," Montserrat mumbled, eyes downcast. However painful it was for her, she imagined it had to have been hard for her father as well. She wasn't the kindest to him in the beginning. She did what a victim typically does: push people away. She thought she did it perfectly. She left her old friends in Queens, her job. She put distance between her father, her brother, even her nieces, and Kara. She became a good liar, indeed.

"I wasn't expecting an apology," Thomas clarified, "And I certainly didn't need one. I'm your father. I just want to know that you're okay."

Montserrat smiled lightly. "I can tell you that before all of this, I was more than okay."

Thomas nodded. "I believe it. You were...happier, more than I'd seen you in a very long time. I would love to say that you were your old self again but it still isn't like that."

"Dad, I don't think I'll ever be the same as before," Montserrat said, figuring it was best to shatter that dream right now than let it keep going without a future. "But that's okay because the way I felt before all this, it was damn great." Her breathlessness was enough to take her word for it. It sounded like even she couldn't believe it.

Truthfully, sometimes she still couldn't.

It took very little for Montserrat to become accustomed to the idea of always feeling miserable on the inside and overall like she was simply floating through life. She had resigned herself to the idea that it would always be like that from now on. But things changed again and she couldn't be more grateful. It would be beyond cruel to lose it all again. Actually, Montserrat couldn't see herself getting past it all over again if she lost Rafael.

"No more tears," came Thomas' voice.

Montserrat snapped out of her thoughts to find there were new tears rolling down her cheeks. "Sorry," she sniffed, wiping the tears off with the backs of her hands.

"No need to be," Thomas told her, "I'm so sorry this is happening, sweetie. But let's have some faith that it'll be okay in the end."

"To be honest Dad…" Montserrat let out a low sigh, "I don't really do the 'faith' thing a lot anymore."

Thomas nodded silently. It wasn't much of a surprise. "The things you see at your job can't leave much hope in the world, I know."

"Mhm," Montserrat nodded. She could let her father believe it was all because of her job. It would be easier for him that way.

"But in times like these...who do you turn to for strength?" Thomas asked curiously. "People pray to God, or other saints or something. What do you pray to?"

"Nothing," Montserrat admitted. It had been a very long time since she turned to any type of religious prayer. She was non-practicing Catholic at this point. Don't tell Lucia. "Right now, I just think about Rafael and how he's strong enough to come back. You should see him in action, Dad. If I were that guy who shot him, I'd run. I've been on the receiving end a couple times and Rafael doesn't play. And I've only gotten a small taste of the real thing. He's scary. Ask Kara."

Thomas let out a small laugh. "Knowing you, you probably kept it going."

Montserrat nodded. "Hell yeah. He's not right until I say he's right." She shifted in her seat. "Although right now, I'd give anything to hear his smart-ass remarks. An argument. Anything."

Thomas stretched a hand out until he was able to find Montserrat's. "It'll be okay."

Montserrat didn't say much after that. She couldn't wait to see the end of the drive and be at the hospital again. Nick had tried sending her messages but it didn't look like the service in the hospital was doing so well. All his texts were coming in as 'incoming message'. It left Montserrat even more anxious. What if something happened while she was away!?

She practically ran through the hospital, leaving her father to do his best to keep up. "Nick!?" She called as soon as she saw the man in the waiting room. "Your messages weren't coming through! Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded, eyes flickering past Montserrat to her father.

"That's my Dad," Montserrat said dismissively. She had no times for introductions right now. "What happened!? Is Raf—"

"He's awake," Nick thankfully cut Montserrat off. He presumed that she had assumed the worst with his answer.

The relief that washed over Montserrat was monumental and yet so short-lived. Nick didn't understand why.

"I wasn't here," she whispered, eyes falling, "I wasn't here for him. God — I told you people I shouldn't have left!"

"Montserrat, you needed to rest," Nick said, "Besides, he woke up like 15 minutes ago. His mom's in there with him right now." Apparently, he'd something really bad because Montserrat's face had paled to a ghostly shade.

"What?" She asked, sounding like she'd lost air as well. "N-n-n-n-no, tell me she just got here too. Please."

"Uuh…" Nick was utterly confused but he still had to answer with the truth and it was not what Montserrat wanted to hear. "She got here an hour ago."

"Crap," Montserrat let out a heavy sigh.

"Montserrat, what's wrong?" Thomas asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You should be happy!"

"I am," Montserrat clarified, "But you don't understand. Lucia got very upset with me because I didn't call her immediately when this happened. I called her this morning instead because I thought there was no reason she should lose sleep when I was already here, waiting to hear how the surgery went. She didn't agree. She thought she should've been notified immediately."

"Okay, well, that was then, this is now. Things will change now that Rafael's awake. She was probably very scared too."

"I bet she was," Montserrat agreed, "But she's Rafael's mother. Where do you think he gets his temper from?"

Nobody would answer her. It was better to stay quiet and to help move things along, Olivia arrived shortly afterwards. She'd gotten the call from the doctors themselves as was protocol.

"Is he capable of answering?" She asked the two detectives.

"He might be too tired to remember things right now," Nick said, "I was with him for 10 minutes and he barely said anything about what happened."

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it," Montserrat said. "And he shouldn't if he's not ready."

Olivia nodded with her. "Yes, but it's worth asking, don't you think?"

The detective in Montserrat would make her agree but the civilian side of her made her shake her head. That was the part of her that wanted everyone to stay the hell away from Rafael until he was all better.

"There's his mom," Nick said when he saw Lucia emerging from the hallway.

Montserrat immediately pressed her clothes down as if Lucia were going to point them out and add to her fuel against Montserrat. She made herself front front center when Lucia joined them.

"How is he?" She immediately asked the older woman. "Is he — is he talking? Does anything hurt?"

"He had a bullet in his body so yes, he is in pain," Lucia answered sharply enough to have Montserrat wincing each time.

"Excuse me," Thomas cut in just as Montserrat was about to go on. He moved around Nick and Olivia to stand beside his daughter. "There's no need to be that kind of rude. You're both stressed and frightened."

"And who are you?" Lucia demanded, eyebrow raising.

"This is my father," Montserrat said hastily, truly wanting to avoid any kind of confrontation.

"Thomas Novak," Thomas introduced himself, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak to my daughter like that."

Lucia didn't appreciate the tone used on her either. "Lucia Barba," she introduced herself in the same tone as Thomas, "And your daughter knows exactly why I'm upset." She crossed gazes with Montserrat.

"I'm sorry," Montserrat reiterated, sighing. "I didn't want you to go through a sleepless night. You nor Catalina."

"Don't take decisions that don't belong to you," Lucia retorted, "When it comes to my son, I need to be informed about everything that happens to him. I don't know why I didn't get the call in the first place. Do you?"

Montserrat lowered her head. She preferred not to answer for the moment.

"There's no need to argue," Olivia stepped in as well, "We all want the same thing, don't we? For Rafael to get better?"

"Of course," Lucia said incredulously. How dare they think otherwise?

"Okay," nodded Olivia, "Then I'd like to see him right now. I think Montserrat as well."

Montserrat nodded fervently. "I do," she said.

"Don't bother him with the unnecessary, please," Lucia warned as the two women started walking around her.

"I would never," Montserrat said sharply. "But I do want to catch whoever did this to him. And I will."

She followed Olivia down the hallway, preferring not to look back. She couldn't take whatever look Lucia must be giving her right now. She didn't have the head for it either.

"Montserrat," Olivia called twice before she was heard, "Forgive me for intruding but, have you taken some time for yourself with all this going on?"

"Are you kidding? I slept way more than I should have!" Montserrat exclaimed. "He woke up and I wasn't here!"

"I don't mean that," Olivia shook her head. "With this kind of stuff, I presume you would want to go see your therapist?"

"I don't have time for that!" Montserrat said dismissively. "I need to be here!"

Olivia suspected that mindset long before she got the courage to ask Montserrat. "It's important that you take care of yourself first. I'm sure Rafael would say the same thing."

It honestly didn't matter to Montserrat right now. She just wanted to reach the damn room herself and see with her own eyes that Rafael was awake. That's all she wanted. Olivia must have seen it because she didn't mention therapy again for the rest of the walk.

They didn't make a sound when they finally entered the room. If Rafael was really asleep, neither wanted to wake him. Questions would wait. But, as soon as they were in sight, Montserrat saw Rafael wide awake. He seemed a bit dazed but lucid enough to recognize them.

Montserrat forgot all about her conversation with Olivia and rushed forward. "Hii…" She said breathlessly, "You're still awake! You should be sleeping."

"I've done enough sleeping," Rafael muttered, sounding a lot more like himself than Montserrat (and Olivia) expected. He was definitely irritated enough to be himself.

Montserrat grinned widely at his response. She absolutely loved seeing him act like he usually would — it meant he was getting better! She reached for his hand, immediately gripping it. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. I-I should've been, I know, but…"

Rafael watched Montserrat in a more dazed manner again — his mind went in and out with all the meds he was on.

This, Olivia presumed and since Montserrat seemed too upset with herself to notice, Olivia decided to cut in and help them both out. "Now, Montserrat, I think it's okay," she started slowly, watching Montserrat lower her head out of utter guilt, "You had to go home and rest too." Olivia looked at Rafael who was still trying to make sense of Montserrat's long ramble. "She was here all of last night and Carisi and Amaro and sent her home to sleep and eat."

"Well — why are you apologizing then?" Rafael glanced at Montserrat, eyebrows knitting together with confusion. "It's not like I noticed, right? I was in surgery. At least that's what my mother told me?"

"Is that all she told you?" Montserrat asked rather curiously and slightly worried. She grabbed a chair and sat down beside the bed.

"She said a lot of things but honestly, I tuned her out," Rafael drew in a breath, "The mess might be a blessing in disguise, you know."

"Ha…" Montserrat smiled lightly. That sounded a lot more like him. It truly relieved some of her anxiety. "Still, I'm really sorry. I did want to be here but I…I sort of overslept and…"

"I promise you that I am okay with that," Rafael said, smiling for the first time. "I don't want you forgetting about yourself because of me."

"I'm good, I promise," Montserrat assured, nodding her head fast. She brought their interlocked hands to her mouth, kissing his hand. "I just want you to be okay now. I've been a little crazy."

"A little?" Rafael's smile widened.

"Shut up," Montserrat said hushedly, letting out a small chuckle. She missed this so much. All the nerves were washing out as a familiar warmth flooded her insides.

At the same time, Olivia's phone started buzzing. "I'll be back," she told the two before taking the call.

Montserrat scooted her chair closer to the bed. She held onto Rafael's hand, still keeping her smile. This is all she wanted. Rafael was awake, seemingly recuperating and already taking jabs at her. In all her thoughts, she missed Rafael studying her. He noticed something he truly wished he hadn't. It led to his question.

"How are you?"

Montserrat blinked at first, puzzled with the question. "What — me?" She laughed. "Môj drahý, I'm fine. I'm absolutely fine."

"I'm on some strong medication but I assume you just spoke Slovak but even then…I don't buy it," Rafael said, shaking his head. "You went crazy over me."

"You were shot," Montserrat said, still frazzled having to say that. "What did you think I would do? Happily pass the night with your scotch?"

"Did you save me some, by the way?"

"Rafael," Montserrat warned him not to play jokes right now. "You were shot. It's not funny."

"Oh, I'm not laughing at that," agreed Rafael, "But I am trying to lighten the mood here. I don't want you to worry about me."

"Not right now," Montserrat shook her head, "Don't ask me not to do that when you're here. You have no idea how scared I was when I got the call."

"They called you…" Rafael said, as if realizing something.

"Um, yeah…" Montserrat cleared her throat, "Why did the hospital call me first? Your mother, uh, she was pretty pretty confused about that too."

"Yeah…" Rafael nodded, "Uh…I was going to tell you sometime…definitely not here but…"

"I don't think I've ever heard you ramble so uselessly…" Montserrat laughed almost immediately after saying that.

Rafael deadpanned her for a straight minute while she laughed. "I think I deserve to be cut a little slack, right?"

Montserrat nodded as she did her best to sober from her laugh. "Of course, dear."

It was too late as Rafael was already properly annoyed. "You're my emergency contact," he said in a huff.

Montserrat gasped lightly then, eyebrows raising with pleasant shock. "Am I really?"

"Yes, but you're making me regret it—"

"No, no, I promise I'm good! That's nice to hear, I…" Montserrat could feel the familiar spread of butterflies in her stomach. "When did you…when did you decide to do that?"

"I don't know, a bit back? Is that — are you okay with that?"

"Of course! Yes!" Montserrat was a smiling mess, a deep difference from the past day. She leaned over, carefully, and pressed a kiss on Rafael's lips. "Thank you for that trust in me." There was something else she wanted to desperately say to him but she felt the timing was off and perhaps even imprudent on her part.

Even if Rafael said nothing of it, Montserrat still noticed the subtle scrunch of his nose and the twitch of his mouth every now and then from the pain he obviously felt. He just didn't want to tell her about it — it wasn't shocking for her. He barely got used to the idea of asking her for help in far less serious situations so this situation would require a lot more effort from his side and she wanted to make it as easy as possible for him.

"Do you need anything?" She asked him, "I don't know, like a drink or something? And by that I mean water, of course."

"Damn, and I was just about to ask you for some scotch…"

"I would smack you right now if you weren't hurt!" Montserrat sighed and shook her head. "So listen, I really hate asking you this right now but I need to help so…about that night…"

Rafael already started turning his head away from her. He knew exactly what was coming.

"Do you remember what happened?" Montserrat wanted to be as cautious as possible for his sake. It was physically painful enough and now he would have to deal with any mental trauma he suffered from that evening.

"...a little," he did answer albeit in a low mutter.

"Okay, um, well there is that cashier — Clara?"

At the mention of the young woman, Rafael immediately looked back at Montserrat. "Is she okay!?" He truly didn't remember much after hearing the sound of the gun firing. He was in and out of consciousness but he did have slight memories of the young woman terrified in the shop.

"Yes, she is," Montserrat nodded, smiling lightly. "Did you know she's a med student? I was told she helped keep you stable while the ambulance got to you guys. She called 911. I absolutely love her."

It was Rafael's turn to smile. "Should I be worried?"

Montserrat let out a weary sigh but her broad smile defeated any attempt to sound annoyed. "Shut up."

"I want to tell her thank you," Rafael said a moment later. "She was so scared. I may have yelled at her."

"Lots of people react differently in situations like those. It's a flight or fight thing — you chose fight, she chose flight. All involuntary of course. But please, don't ever choose to 'fight' with a robber."

"Oh, but you can?" Rafael countered on the spot. His smirk didn't help. "You carry — you do that for a living. The way you feel right now is what I always feel about you..."

"I know, I know," sighed Montserrat. This was a conversation she didn't like having because Rafael always had the right. His concerns were right, his points made sense.

Rafael gripped Montserrat's hand as much as he could, which wasn't very much if Montserrat was honest with him. She wouldn't tell him. "I'm not arguing, I'm just telling you this is something we can't control," he told her. "I'm sorry I worried you. I didn't…I didn't see the guy getting up…"

"So you do remember some things, then?"

"Yes…but it's still mostly fuzzy…" If there was one thing Rafael didn't want to do right now, it was having to lie to Montserrat. His gaze lowered to their interlocked hands, which fueled his reasons all over again. "I don't know what they put in my body but I couldn't even tell you my birthday right now."

Montserrat smiled sweetly at him. "I'll make a full list about you when you get home. We can go over it together." She scooted her chair even closer to the bed. "Because when you get out of here, you have two choices about what's going to happen."

"Oh, do I?" Rafael blinked, bemused with the revelation.

Montserrat nodded. "Yup. You have a bullet wound and you need to take care of it. You won't be able to move around so easily — you won't be working," she said the last part as a full on threat in case he had the idea of even discussing the matter. "So, when you get out of here, you can either come home with me where I can help you out."

"Not happening," Rafael said on the spot. "You live with Kara and by extension Carisi. Haven't I been through enough already?"

Montserrat deadpanned him for a short minute. She was honestly expecting a response like that. "Then your other option — and your only other one — is that I come stay with you at your place for a while."

"You'd be willing to do that?"

"Yes, of course. I want to help you and I can't do that if I'm at my own place."

"Montserrat, that's sweet of you and I appreciate it but I don't need help —"

"Yes, you do," Montserrat nodded. This was also something else she anticipated and was well prepared to handle. "Raf, you can't live by yourself right now. Until you can go up and down the stairs on your own, I will be staying with you."

"It's not that the idea of having you around isn't pleasant — because it is — but I don't need you giving up your time just to take care of me." Even as he said it out loud, Rafael thought it was ridiculous. "I can manage on my own. I always do."

"Tough luck because it's not just about you anymore," Montserrat countered with a wry smile, "To your misfortune, and mine, I like you very much. With all your sarcasm and hard attitude, but I like you."

Rafael rolled his eyes at Montserrat. It was, of course, nice to hear something like that but it still didn't take away the feeling of impotence either. There were many things out of his control and Rafael was not used to it.

"Montse—"

"Let me do this, please," Montserrat insisted earnestly. "You're right. I was dead worried about you and, yeah, I want to be close to you for the next couple days because of it. I promise I'll try not to bombard you, okay?" She squeezed his hand in hers. "Please?"

This was a battle he had already lost and Rafael knew it. For all he knew, half her things were already in his apartment. That's not the worst thing that could happen. No, no it absolutely wasn't. Rafael sighed. What he would have given for this conversation to be part of a much better situation than the one they were in right now.

"You can go back home anytime, alright?" He said, instantly earning a beam from Montserrat. "You don't have to stay more than you want and you definitely don't have to do anything for me."

"I don't understand how you graduated from Harvard. You're seriously so stupid," Montserrat said quite honestly, which prompted a hard deadpan from Rafael in return. Montserrat let out a laugh in the next second. "But I want you just the way you are! I missed it all!" She leaned over to give him another kiss. "I missed you," she whispered afterwards. "I know it's insane to say that when we saw each other — what, yesterday? — but I really did miss you so much."

Even while saying it, she still sounded so afraid like he would fall under again. Rafael felt so guilty even while knowing this was way out of his control.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he insisted for her sake. He wished he could get up from the stupid bed and show her — ease her fear and worries. "I don't want you worrying anymore, okay? Calmada."

"I cannot be calm when you're in this situation," Montserrat promptly huffed. "You went ballistic when I had a scratch on my back! I have every right not to be calm about this. Who did this to you? Do you remember anything about the guy?"

Rafael's mind was slow with all the medication, so coming up with a good excuse was even harder than usual. Luckily for him, Olivia returned at that moment.

"Sorry, that was Rollins," the Sergeant said, "She and Fin are going through some possible witnesses." She approached the foot of the bed slowly, both hands in front of her. "Do you think you can give your statement right now?"

Rafael shifted, and in doing so felt a jab of pain on his side.

"Or we could wait…" Olivia said, mistaking his shift for uneasiness.

"I'm good," he said immediately. He glanced at Montserrat, and a moment later he was asking her: "Maybe I do need something after all."

Montserrat nodded. "Anything," she encouraged, "What do you need?"

"A damn glass of water," he said, "They pump meds all night and day and I don't get to eat anything. I'm so thirsty."

"I'll go see what I can do," Montserrat smiled slyly, "Flash my badge and all."

Rafael smiled at her. He knew very well that she would. "Thank you."

"Of course." Montserrat gave his hand a pat then stood up, turning to Olivia. "Keep an eye on him?"

"Oh yeah," Olivia pressed a finger to her cheek then pointed at Rafael.

Montserrat still left with some reluctance, especially when Olivia mentioned that Lucia was asking for her.

"My mother's still here?" Rafael asked, eyebrows raised.

Olivia nodded. "Oh yeah, she's made it clear she's not stepping away for a while."

"She should go home, like you all. I don't need babysitters," Rafael said, shaking his head.

"Oh no, you're not paying Montserrat with that coin when she's had to deal with your mother."

At Olivia's words, Rafael turned his head slightly. "What do you mean by that? Has she been giving Montserrat a hard time?" He wouldn't put it behind his mother given the situation.

Olivia reluctantly nodded. "Yeah. Novak made the call to inform your mother about the situation earlier in the morning. She didn't want Lucia going through a sleepless night like her, much less your grandmother. Lucia didn't like that."

"Is she kidding?" Rafael snapped, not at Olivia but at the situation. "She just told me she hasn't told my grandmother anything about this." He loved his mother, he did, but sometimes she could be a…

"Montserrat didn't tell you?" Olivia assumed with Rafael's reaction. "She probably didn't want to add to your stress."

"Of course," groaned Rafael, although he soon stopped when he discovered it hurt him. "I'll have a word with my mother."

"Sorry," Olivia said guiltily, "I didn't mean to…you know…"

"No, I'm glad you did," said Rafael sharply, "Because Montserrat wouldn't tell me." Nobody would make her life harder than it had to be, not if he could help it. "Don't even tell her that I know."

"Understood," nodded Olivia. "So, about the case…"

"I need you to do something for me," Rafael said out of the blue, startling Olivia.

"Uh, yeah, of course…" Olivia nodded slowly, "What-what do you need?"

Before answering, Rafael's gaze flickered to the door. Montserrat would be away for a while, hopefully. "I need you to close this case."

"Excuse me?" Olivia tilted her head, presuming she heard wrong.

"You heard me," Rafael said, meeting her gaze. "I want the case closed. Cold case, if it must be."

"I don't — I don't understand…" Olivia rubbed her temple, "You want us to…"

"Close the case, yes," Rafael nodded. 'That's exactly what I want you to do. It's my case, and that's what I'm asking for."

"Why?" Olivia never thought she would have to have this kind of conversation with him. If there's anyone who always said what he wanted, it was Rafael. This made no sense. "Are you still processing what happened? Do you need —"

"I already processed it and this is what I need to happen," Rafael said, sounding very sure of himself. "I know what happens next and I'm not doing that."

"Because of a trial? Rafael, you know that's the natural order of thi—"

"I know," Rafael cut Olivia, his sense of impatience growing. "Believe me, Liv, I know what happens next. I know that you will eventually catch this guy and it will go to trial. I know that their defense attorney will start playing tricks and turn things around for their benefit."

"So you're afraid?" Olivia guessed. "That's also normal…"

"I'm not afraid," Rafael clarified, "I would gladly go along with every part of the process but this isn't about me. It was never about me."

Olivia was utterly lost. She rubbed her forehead relentlessly, leaving faint red marks on her skin. "You're going to have to explain this a little better because I'm not understanding. You don't want us to proceed with the case, you don't want a trial, but you're not scared?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Rafael confirmed, "And you, as my friend and more importantly the Sergeant here, need to help me."

"Why? Why do you want me to do that!?"

"Because that man worked for someone I get the feeling has been watching us for a while now."

Olivia presumed that the struggle she saw in Rafael was for himself. His hands balled into fists on either side of him. His lips pursed together enough to scrunch his nose automatically. But once again, Olivia was wrong because as Rafael had said earlier, this wasn't about him.

"He's been watching Montserrat," he spat darkly. The idea sent him into a frenzy and the only thing stopping its full fledged form was the aching throb he felt on the side of his stomach.

Olivia looked at Rafael both curiously and alarmed. "Why…why would you think that?"

"Because that man told me," Rafael replied, giving the impression that he remembered exactly what happened last night.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"You and I are the only ones who know what happened to Montserrat before she transferred here, so this should be easy to understand," Rafael said, only taking a moment because he abhorred what he had to say next. "That man who hurt her — he's watching her. I don't know how, I don't know when, but he's still got eyes on her."

Olivia was keenly aware of the rising noise from the machine beside the bed. One of them was connected to Rafael's finger — a blood pressure measure. "I think you need to—"

"It makes sense now, what Little Tino told Montserrat when we visited him in jail. He told Montserrat that there was a rule in place…"

The beeps got slightly louder.

"Raf—"

"Nobody lays a finger on the redhead," Rafael repeated the words he now hated himself for. He completely missed them at that moment. A deep scowl marked his face. "He has rules, Olivia, about her, about Montserrat — in his eyes, she belongs to him. I can't — he's just—"

"Rafael!" Olivia snapped to get his attention. She moved to his bedside, urgently motioning him to calm down.

"Liv, we can't let him keep watching her," he told her, finally sounding what he truly was: frightened. He was scared, but not for him. "We can't let this keep going. He's—"

Olivia nodded and once again motioned him to calm down. "You need to take it easy. You have stitches. They can burst," she reminded him. She grabbed Montserrat's chair to sit down. "Okay, you're going to have to walk me through this so that we're on the same page about what happened. Only then we can decide how to proceed from here."

"Fine, whatever, but you can't tell Montserrat anything about this."

"I can't promise that but we can work together to come up with the best solution," Olivia said.

It wasn't good enough for Rafael. He needed to hear it out loud…but he knew he was asking the impossible from Olivia. He'd been on that side plenty of times. It was hypocritical of him to be asking the same thing he denied so many times before.

Yes, he was being hypocritical.

Yes, he was being unreasonable.

But he just didn't care.

He didn't care about anything, not even the frikin stitches throbbing on his side right now. The only thing he cared about was currently outside, getting something he asked her for. She was all he cared about. So damn everything else.

#ocapp #allaboutocs #ochub #fd: svu #Rafael Barba fics #Rafael Barba imagines #Rafael Barba x oc #SVU fics #svu imagines #law and order fics #law and order imagines #original characters #oc: Montserrat Novak #fic: dare to forget

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plaidbooks · 3 days

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What tips/advice do you have for writing:

Rafael

Sonny

Peter

Mike

Under a readmore for length:

Rafael: I find him to be the hardest, just because he's so smart and quick. Maybe work backwards with him--think of a good quip or a direct line of reasoning that he will follow, then muddy the waters with other, incorrect thoughts from those around him. That way, he seems like the reasonable one that is following a good train of thought.

He's also quick to hide his real feelings on things--he's private and not really a vulnerable man. So, he wouldn't be confessing feelings (whether love or frustration) on the first opportunity to do so. Also, as much as he hates his father, I do think that he's picked up the habit of anger > other emotions. Thought he can be patient, we've also seen him get angry or frustrated quickly over over emotions.

Rafael is a slow burn type of character, I think.

*********

Sonny: He is a fixer! Yo do not go to Sonny to vent, because he will be giving advice, whether you want it or not. This can be a good thing, or a flaw, and can be written both ways.

He also wears his heart on his sleeve; he's pretty open about emotions. Though, there's definitely times--especially when he's frustrated--where he'll drop a snappy, one-liner that he expects you to ask about so that he can go into his frustrated monologue.

He's also the king of "I don't understand what's happening, but I do understand that you are upset, so I will support you anyways." Like with trans victims, he openly says he doesn't get it, but he never misgenders them and still fights for justice.

Though Sonny is seen as the goofball in early seasons, I do think he's one that will stay up until 3am having deep, philosophical talks and really dive into feelings.

*********

Peter: He's a little harder, especially if you only watched svu (like me). We don't have him long, so a lot of him is made up. He's definitely more in touch with his feelings than Rafael, but he's not on Sonny's level of openness. I think he's willing to share the good things, but not the bad.

We've seen that he drinks quite often and had a threesome to take his mind off things (of course, if you're planning on having him in a relationship, I do not see him cheating), so he has some trouble with his negative emotions. He doesn't have good coping skills, and he hides himself away rather than opening up to someone.

Peter also came on after Rafael, whom the squad loved. There's a lot of mistrust and trying to figure the new guy out that has the squad disliking him. However, Sonny shadowed underneath him a little, too, so he sees Peter's real side; how he works and how passionate he is behind closed doors.

**********

Mike: Like Peter, we don't have a whole lot on him. Unlike Peter, we do not have another show this character was on first for more research. As such, we really get to make him up.

His dad was always super strict with the squad, so we can only assume he was even worse to his son(s)--Mike has a brother, remember. And a mom, who is divorced (if I recall correctly).

But even with this and the constant pressure from his dad to follow the latter's dream, Mike is still a team player. He's nice, approachable--his one flaw is that he's trying to be perfect so quickly.

Personally, I think he puts on airs at work--as in, he's puffed up and Work Mike. But at home, he's allowed to relax and be himself. He has no one to impress--even in a relationship, I think he strives to have someone who he doesn't have to be Mike Dodds in front of.

I hope this helps, and good luck writing!

#answered #anon #writing advice #rafael barba #sonny carisi #peter stone #mike dodds

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goodthingscomeinthrees · 2 months

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✨ tag 9 people to get to know better! ✨ tagged by @sophiedevreaux (hi!! ty for the tag!)

last song: end of beginning by djo.

currently watching: abbott elementary, law & order: svu and oc as they air. debating on what new show to start next.

three ships: bertha/george for gilded age, elliot/olivia for law & order, lizzie/darcy for p&p (i'm in my annual austen phase, i recently read persuasion, which i loved).

favourite colour: yellow!

currently consuming: just had a handful of haribo gummy bears as i wait for my oven to preheat so i can make dinner.

first ship: probably booth/brennan from bones, first ship i joined a fandom for is elizabeth/henry from madam secretary (i miss them!!).

current location: my sofa, taking a break from working.

relationship status: very single and very content with that lol

tagging (if you're so inclined): @bartowskis, @rahleeyah, @msharmonycobel, @serenabenson, @livbensonfinalgirl, @idoltina, @somewhereapart, @belledamn, @alwaysbethisclose and anyone else who wants to do this!

#ask meme #these are so fun

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tropes-and-tales-archives · 2 years

Text

Sonny Carisi: Hold My Hand

Word Count: 2192

TW: Fluff; pining; needle phobia.

To say that you intimidated Sonny Carisi was an understatement.

You had worked together briefly in Brooklyn’s SVU (you had spent most of your career there, he had lasted almost a month) before you both – separately – transferred to Manhattan’s SVU. Sonny only beat you by a week, so he was technically more senior, but no one bought that line – not even him.

You were an impressive detective: you knew every square inch of the borough, you spoke three languages fluently (and could fumble some basic questions in Mandarin), and you were an encyclopedia of proper police procedure. Sonny had admired you – you had fit in so well with the Brooklyn squad while he had floundered.

In Manhattan, though, you were both the new kid. You were paired off with Fin while Sonny was paired off with Amanda, but after your respective training periods in Manhattan were over, Liv made you partners.

He liked you a lot, but he couldn’t seem to get any closer than arm’s length. You were the dictionary definition of professional, so offers to grab a beer after work were usually declined with a polite smile. Once, when he was dealing with car problems, you picked up him and dropped him off at home every day – but you always declined offers to get dinner or come up to his apartment and let him cook for you as thanks.

Still, it cut both ways: while he couldn’t seem to build a cozy rapport with you, he also wasn’t teased mercilessly by you. He could run his mouth, talk about his ma, press cannoli onto you, and you never gave him grief for it.

Sonny eventually just resigned himself to a purely professional partnership with you. It was too bad: he was harboring a painful little crush on you, like a piece of popcorn kernel stuck under his gum line that he couldn’t unstick. You were gorgeous in a buttoned-up sort of way, and in the rare times you genuinely smiled at him, he felt a sick sort of queasy feeling that could only be love.

On the other hand, the two of you worked extremely well together, and before long, your solve rate was rivaling Fin and Amanda’s. You had started gifting Sonny with air high-fives, which was something.

At that rate, he’d maybe get a hug within the next fifty years.

-----

He didn’t have to wait fifty years, ultimately. The circumstances around that first hug between the two of you were this:

A patrolman who had been aiding in the pursuit of a rapist was shot on duty. While the man was in fair condition and in surgery, he had lost a lot of blood. When you and Sonny arrived at the hospital, Liv was already there.

“How’s he doing?” Sonny asked. He felt, as he always did in these situations, the sick, heavy feeling in his stomach. It could have just as easily been him…or you. The detective’s badge wasn’t a guarantee for safety.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Liv informed the two of you. “The blood bank is sending over some, but he’s got a rare type. B negative.”

“I….I’m B negative,” you said in a small voice, and Liv turned and pointed you to the nurses’ station. You didn’t move, though, and Sonny glanced down at you.

Your face was as white as paper, and your eyes were wide in animal fear. “I, uh, need to take an Ativan first,” you stuttered.

Liv pointed a second time. “Go,” she ordered. “There’s no time.” Then her phone rang, and she spun off to go answer it.

Sonny put his hands on your upper arms and turned you to face him. “You okay?” he asked, confused. “You look sick.”

You gazed up at him with eyes that were already filling with tears. “Sonny, I can’t,” you pleaded. “I know…I know I have to, but I can’t.”

“Of course you can.” He rubbed your arms briskly through your coat. “It doesn’t hurt at all. Just a little pinch – “

“I know it doesn’t hurt!” you yelled back at him, and your voice was an entire octave higher than usual. “But there’s a needle in my vein, Sonny, and a plastic tube, and they slide the tube into my vein…” You trailed off, practically gagging on your building hysteria, and Sonny realized suddenly what the problem was.

You had a needle phobia.

It all made sense, all of a sudden: the NYPD paid for annual flu shots, but you always spent two weeks combing the city for the nasal spray vaccination while everyone else just got the shot on-site. And during those on-site clinic days, you always kept carefully away, running lab work or killing time in Barba’s office. Sonny just now put it all together.

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” he replied. He shifted his hands from your arms to your face, cupping it gently and forcing you to look at him. “You can do this. I’ll stay with you the whole time, okay?”

“I can’t – “

“You can.” He nodded at you encouragingly until you started to mimic him and nod back. “You’re the strongest person I know, and you can do this.”

“But I don’t – “

“There’s not a lot of time,” he cut you off gently. “That officer in there needs you, okay? And I know that you’d never turn away from someone who needs you, right?” It was a dirty trick, channeling his Catholic guilt at you like that, but it convinced you.

“Okay,” you said, but giant tears were rolling down your face, and you were outright sobbing as Sonny led you to the nurses’ station.

“She has the same blood type as the officer who was brought in,” Sonny informed the nurse. “But she’s got a bit of an issue with needles.”

The nurse, God bless her, smiled and led the two of you to a private room, promising in her most soothing tones that she’d get the very best on staff to come draw your blood. You settled onto the exam table (dragging your feet the entire way, and so tense that Sonny could feel your urge to bolt coursing through your frame), but when you saw the little plastic vials sitting on the counter, you burst into fresh tears.

You sat at the edge of the exam table, so Sonny stood beside you, and after a moment’s hesitation, pulled you into a hug and let you cry. And you didn’t just cry – you babbled out a torrent of words, apologizing to him for being unprofessional, apologizing for crying, apologizing for being weak…you were saying terrible things about yourself, calling yourself names, a coward and an idiot and worse, and he had to hush you.

“Everyone’s got something they’re afraid of,” he murmured as he cradled your head against his chest. He could just make out the scent of your shampoo, and that painful little crush he was nursing was dangerously close to tipping into love. “I’m terrified of Mr. Met.” That made you laugh against him, and he added, “it’s not rational, but those cold black eyes are scary.”

“Yeah, but your fear of Mr. Met isn’t putting someone’s life in danger,” you muttered as you pushed yourself away from him a little. You refused to look at him, and Sonny could feel the shame radiating off of you.

“You never know,” he teased. He kept one arm around your shoulders, unwilling to give up the sudden closeness with you. “Mr. Met looks like he’d be good for a string of subway flashings. We might have to catch him one day.”

Finally you looked at him, your eyes wide and solemn. “I’m sorry I reacted badly,” you said.

“Don’t apologize.” He tightened his hold on you and hoped it felt comforting. “Now I know you’re a regular ol’ human like the rest of us.”

You smiled at that and started to reply, but there was a knock on the door. A nurse entered and settled into the chair and took down all your information. Sonny could feel you trembling against him as you answered her questions, and then he felt you slide your hand into his own, unbidden.

The nurse then made her way over to you and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Sonny went to release you, but you only squeezed his hand tighter.

“Can you keep holding my hand, please?” you asked, and you sounded so small and plaintive that he only nodded and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s right, hon,” the nurse said in a thick Jersey accent. “Keep holdin’ your boyfriend’s hand. I’ll take the other arm and you’ll be outta here before you know it.” You didn’t acknowledge her faux pas in calling him your boyfriend, and Sonny felt a warm flush at the suggestion.

The nurse had you shed your coat and then unbutton your sleeve, rolling it up until the crook of your arm was exposed. When you saw the rubber tourniquet, you gave a pitiful whimper and turned your face into Sonny’s chest again.

“Maybe talk to her,” the nurse suggested, sotto voce as she prodded at the delicate skin in the fold of your elbow. Sonny reached with his free hand and stroked your head, and he told you an embarrassing story about his prom when he split the pants of his rented tuxedo as he was trying a dance move he in no way was capable of pulling off.

You were rigid in his arms, but when you felt the prick of the needle, you went limp, and Sonny realized that you had passed out. The nurse noticed too.

“Just ease ‘er onto the table,” she told him, and he did. Your face was slack, and the nurse taped the plastic tubing to your arm and monitored the filling bag. She placed her fingers on your wrist and counted your pulse.

“It’s low,” she said a moment later. “Probably why she passed out.” She went back to her computer and added the data to the screen, then added, “if the two of you ever wanna have kids, might want to get that needle issue of hers resolved now.”

Sonny only nodded at her – no point in correcting her now, and you were still out like a light and hadn’t heard it. Still, when you slowly came to and focused your eyes on him, you broke into a dazed grin that completely obliterated his crush and transformed it into love.

“You’re almost done,” he murmured, and he squeezed your hand. You shut your eyes and nodded at him, and it was all fine from there: the nurse removed the tubing and gave you a Band-Aid (with Hello Kitty on it – she informed you that she was the children’s phlebologist, which made Sonny snicker). Then she left and told you to take all the time you needed.

When you went to sit up, you swayed a bit, and Sonny was there to steady you again. Little by little, you became steadier, and you eventually stood up and pulled your coat on slowly. You started to apologize again, and he stopped you before you could get the words out. Instead, he offered you his arm, and you took it with a grateful smile and let him lead you out of the room.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked.

“Tired,” you answered truthfully. “Embarrassed. Wondering if Brooklyn SVU will take me back now that I’ve shamed myself in Manhattan – “

“Don’t you dare,” he cut you off. “This really wasn’t as big a deal as you think it is.”

The two of you stopped by the waiting room, but Liv was nowhere to be found, so Sonny took you outside. The cold wind seemed to revive you a little, and you released his arm and turned to him.

“Thanks for not being a jerk about my meltdown,” you said. You still looked ashamed though, and after tonight, the last thing Sonny wanted was for you to rebuilt those walls you had kept between the two of you. “I really appreciate your help, Sonny.”

“Anything you ever need, I’m here for you,” he replied. Maybe his tone was more earnest than usual, because you tilted your head a little and gave him a smile.

“Anything?” Your voice had a teasing lilt to it. “Because I’m famished, and I’ve heard that fresh pasta is just the thing for a traumatic blood-letting.”

He reached out and twined your arm back through his. “Hon,” he said, adopting the nurse’s thick Jersey accent. “I’m just the guy you’re lookin’ for.” You laughed and let him take you home to your apartment, and he whipped up a meal so enticing that you didn’t just hug him that night – you kissed him too.

Of course, it was just a friendly brush of your lips against his cheek as you saw him off from your front door, but Sonny knew with absolute certainty that it was just the beginning of the rest of his life – a life with you in it, partners in every way two people can be partners.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #tropes-and-tales

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