Chapter Text
Barba sighed, he was exhausted and frustrated and hurting. He knew that the detectives and officers in the Manhattan SVU precinct (even officers in other precincts) didn’t really like him, didn’t like his methods for getting a conviction. The harshness that he had, even to victims; sure, they liked his numbers, that he had the highest conviction rate out of all the ADA’s they’d ever had. But him, no. After the Terrance Reynolds case, that dislike had grown into outright disrespect and unprofessional actions, to the point where it almost jeopardized an important case and he recused himself so that the case would be saved. Even Olivia and Carisi had been a little distant, with Olivia frequently canceling plans and Carisi avoiding his office and on a few occasions ducking into a different room whenever Barba could bear to go to the precinct. Even Fin and Munch in all of their neutrality turned a blind eye when he was harassed by officers, which sometimes even included Amaro and Rollins. But he could handle it, he’d lived through worse and thrived from it, just because his family, or at least what considered his family, turned their backs doesn’t mean that he should do something he might eventually regret. His blood family had done the same, so why should it hurt more now, when they weren’t even his to begin with?
Sometimes he wished that he could go back and - well he didn’t know. He would still prosecute the three officers who had killed the unarmed man, he’d still fight for the victims, whether they were the victims of people on the streets or victims of the people responsible for upholding the law. Maybe he’d go back and not get attached to the team, maybe he’d take a different job in another city, maybe he’d go back and drop out of Harvard, maybe he’d make sure that he’d never come to touch any of the lives he’d sullied with his presence, maybe instead of going back in time he’d stay in the present and go through with his plan to do what he has to, until he’d cleaned up his messes and then made sure he’d never wake up another morning to make more. It’s not like he’s doing any good for those around him.
A soft knock on his door alerted him to his surroundings and the fact that he’d been staring at a case file for – he looked at his clock – four hours?! Another, louder, knock turned his attention back and he called out a soft “Come in?”
Carmen poked her head in (and even she avoided his gaze). “Sir, Sgt. Benson just called and said she’s been trying to get a hold of you for a couple of hours now, she asked if you were in.”
Barba tensed, it was never good when Oliv- Sgt. Benson called this late in the day. “My phone has been off all day, I’ve been going over my current files and didn’t want to be interrupted. Do you know what the Sargent wants?”
“She called regarding the Singer case, the victim is saying that she doesn’t want to testify, and Benson has asked if you’ll come down and talk to her, since she won’t listen to the detectives.”
Rafael felt the headache from lunch, which had almost gone away, come rushing back. The singer case was tough one for him, and now it seemed it was going to hit even closer to home than it had already.
The Singer case had come across Benson's desk three weeks ago and had been slow going even since. The victim, Nancy Singer, was a small town girl from Pennsylvania who had come to study at Juilliard and was currently in her second year. Nancy had been found wandering around Manhattan, drugged and intoxicated, the victim of physical and sexual violence. The 19-year-old had been at an off-campus school event in upper Manhattan, perfectly sober, when she was offered a ride back to campus by one of her instructors, a Dr. Richard Stone, who she trusted without question. Instead of taking her back to campus, he backed up into an alley in lower Manhattan and pulled her out of the car and assaulted her, after which he beat her and forced her to consume pills and alcohol in an attempt to confuse her memory of the assault. He then threatened her, telling her that if she ever told anyone, he’d make sure that she would never dance in any big production. When she refused to get back in the car with him, he left her to find her own way back, where she stumbled around the streets until she was found by a pair of beat cops who saw the evidence of the assault and called it in. Even after the threat, Nancy had not hidden the truth about the attack, but instead of being an open and shut case, the Dr. Stone claimed that Nancy was lying in order to cover up the love affair that they had had and to get the money that he had recently inherited, and that the evidence of the assault was actually from a night of consensual rough sex. Rafael had been counting on Nancy testifying to help solidify the case against the man in front of the jury, since with her testimony they’d be more willing to look through Stone’s money, charms and looks in order to see the monster he was.
“Alright Carmen, can you call Sgt. Benson back and let her know I’ll be there in the next 45 minutes, and to have Miss. Singer in an area where I can talk to her privately when I get there?”
“Yes, Sir, I’ll call right away.” Carmen ducked her head back out and snapped the door shut, a little harder than necessary.
Barba leaned back in his chair and winced, his day just kept getting peachier and peachier, all he could hope for was that most of the officers and detectives that worked the day shift were gone by the time he got there, after all it was almost 8:00pm.