Disclaimer: Characters and any recognizable quotes belong to Dick Wolf and NBC. Song lyrics are from the song "Anchor" by Mindy Gledhill.

Author's note: After December Solstice, this story demanded that I write it. I apologize if some of it seems slightly OOC, I do my best to be faithful to the characters as they're portrayed on the show but sometimes they just want to do and say their own thing. It's highly annoying.

Anchor

There are those who think I'm strange

They would box me up and tell me to change

But you hold me close and softly say

That you wouldn't have me any other way

The rain is falling hard but he doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel much of anything, really. The sorrow will come later, that he knows, but right now he's just numb. So Rafael Barba simply stands and watches the rain come down.

As if the heavens are crying too. He's pretty sure they are. Who wouldn't be?

He can't believe she's gone. Abuelita, she's always been so… there. Like that coffee stand down by the courthouse, the one he always stops at before he goes in to fight yet another battle. Barba knows that it's the way of life to have beginnings and endings but he didn't know it would be this soon. This quickly.

"You brought el juez." He can still hear her soft delight, still see her bright, beaming smile. That look of love that had always been the brightness in his life, ever since he was very, very young.

I am not a judge, abuelita.

You will be. You will be. She had always believed in him. Always been the one with whom he could tell his dreams. She had never made him feel that he could not attain them. And her fried plantains, oh, those plantains… there were none better. Mamí had tried to make them too but somehow hers were never quite as good. When asked what was in them, Abuelita had simply smiled, with that knowing sparkle in her eye.

"I'll tell you when you are older, Rafí. I will give you the recipe and you can make them for your niños."

"But what if I don't have children, Abuelita, what then?"

"You will."

She'd told him once. "Any woman would be lucky to have such a husband as my Rafael."

Then she had given him a searching little glance. Nothing escaped her wise eyes. "Or a man. Lo que sea. Whoever makes my Rafi happy will make me happy too."

There were few secrets he could keep from abuelita. Mamí could be oblivious but his grandmother? Never.

Abuelitas knew everything. Every child – and every adult – knows that.

He looks at his hands, they're wet and cold now. He's lost track of how much time he's just been standing there. And, suddenly, he's not sure what to do next. Mami's long gone, she tells him that she just needs some time before she has to pack away abuelita's things and there's so much to do for the funeral.

Barba suspects that she also doesn't want to be around him right now and he can't really blame her. Abuelita never wanted to move. This fell entirely on him. She had simply wanted to stay in the only place she had known for forty years. And he had made her move.

He thought he had been doing the right thing.

"The right thing for whom, Rafael?" His mother had challenged him when they had been discussing the move to the nursing facility. "Certainly not for her. All her memories are there, how could you think that she would want to spend her last days surrounded by strange things?"

He had failed.

You're always busy... the accusing words of his mother ring in his ears and he flinches.

Abuelita, I am so sorry. There's moisture on his face but it's just the rain. At least that's what he tells himself.

The sharp ring of his cell phone interrupts him from his bleak thoughts.

"Barba here."

"Rafael?" It's Liv and he's actually never been more relieved than to hear her voice.

"Liv." His voice cracks a little and he hopes she doesn't notice.

"Is everything okay?" Of course she notices. Damn those detective instincts. She knows him too well.

"Sidebar?" He can't bring himself to say more. Not over the phone.

"Of course." There's a question and a trace of worry in her voice. Maybe she's remembering the last time he asked her that. And what that led to. "I'm at home with Noah today. Come on over."

Barba's at her place in less than an hour. Taking a deep breath, he raps at her door. Rubbing his face with his hands, he struggles for composure. He's at the edge of a precipice and one wrong step could send him completely over. But he can't find his way away from the edge. Can't find anything to grasp.

"Rafael." Olivia Benson opens the door. Hair up in a messy bun, in sweats that are stained from baby spit-up, and with circles under her eyes, clearly she's still not been sleeping well. But her smile is warm and welcoming and beautiful.

"Come on in."

"Ah, I see you've put the decorative toy box to good use." He gives her a faint smile.

"Still with the jokes." Liv picks up the stray stuffed animal that's still on the floor and tosses it on the ottoman of the couch.

"Always. Where's your young man?"

"Asleep. Finally." Liv gives him a faint smile of relief. "He's been a little cranky lately and pretty resistant to naps. And the naps he takes are short ones. Makes for a long day. I think he's teething."

"I bet." Is all he can say. What else can he say? He knows nothing about babies.

"By the way, Noah liked you." Liv smiles. "Even though you did hold him like he was a bomb just waiting to go off."

Scratching his neck, Barba smiles uncomfortably but manages a small smile, "Not my finest moment."

"I've seen better. But we can change that." Liv smiles mischievously.

"Oh, wonderful." He can't suppress the eye roll.

She must have spotted something in his eyes because the smile leaves her face.

"What's this about, Barba?" She sits down, scanning his face.

He's quiet for a long, long moment. The words are there but he doesn't want to say them. If he does, then it's really real and abuelita is really gone. Staring down at his hands, he blinks the moisture away.

Don't cry, Rafael. I taught you better than that. Tears are weakness.

"Rafael," Liv puts her hand on Barba's, squeezing it gently, "what's wrong? Is it your grandmother?"

And it's the compassion that undoes him. The look in her eyes.

"She's gone." The words come out in a fragile whisper, so soft that Liv can barely hear them. He doesn't dare say more, for fear that he might shatter.

Benson doesn't ask him to clarify. She knew even before he opened his mouth. She's seen that expression before. On far too many people. And she's heard those words far too many times.

For a moment she's back in Cragen's office so many years ago.

"Your mother, there's been an accident..."

You never really ever forget.

Quickly, she shakes off the ghosts of the past and comes back to the present. Where she is needed.

"I am so sorry, Rafael. So very sorry." She grips his hand, not offering any more words. Soothing pain is such a tricky thing, too many words and the comfort just sounds forced and fake, too few words and they think you don't care.

But she does. So very much. There are some people who might say she cares too much.

"Be careful, Olivia, of how many pieces of yourself you give to this job. You might find yourself with nothing left."

Every day she looks into the face of loss, the haunted faces of those whose lives have been changed forever. She watches them try to figure out how to cope with the gaping hole in their lives.

Trying to navigate the pain never gets any easier. Trying to explain to a weeping mother or father that their child is gone... that will never be something she'd be used to.

No matter how hard she's tried, she can't be used to any of it.

"It's my fault." Barba says, again in a whisper. He looks surprised, as if he wasn't expecting those words to come out of his month.

"Explain that to me." Liv said calmly, still holding his hand, running her thumb around his palm. Barba finds it soothing and he grips it slightly, she's his anchor.

She always has been.

"I should have let her stay." He says quietly. "She didn't want to go. It's one of the only homes she's ever known. She didn't want to go and I knew it. Now she's gone."

"You did what you thought was the right thing. You can't blame yourself for that. The decision to move her didn't kill her." Liv replies softly.

"I know I'm not responsible for her death. That'd be ridiculous." Barba keeps staring at his hands, telling himself that as much as he was telling her. As if saying the words out loud to himself will convince him that it wasn't his fault.

Liv calls him on it.

"You don't sound convinced."

"If I hadn't pushed her into moving, maybe she would still be alive."

"Ever thought that it was simply just her time?" Liv leans forward. "Look at me, Rafael Barba."

He looks up at her and the pain in his eyes is almost more than she can bear.

"You can't spend your time thinking about what if's. It will drive you crazy. My mother died many years ago," her voice cracks a little but she continues, "through poor choices that she made. And, God, there were so many times when I wondered if I just did something differently, if I had taken the time to really see how much pain she was really in, if I got her the right help, maybe she'd still be alive.

Eventually, though, I realized that she made her own choices, there was nothing more that I could do for her. You did what you thought was best for your grandmother at the time. That's what good people do. You can't ask more of yourself than that. And it was just her time to go. There's nothing you could have done."

"What I should have done was actually listen to her." He says sadly. "One of the last times I saw my grandmother was when we were looking around at the home where she was going to live. She kept telling me how unhappy she was, asked me why she had to move. I didn't listen. She got angry, told me to go "help" someone else."

"I'm sure she knows that you were just trying to help her."

"Did she?" He looks over at her uncertainly. Always the skeptic.

"People often disagree on what is "best" for them. From what you told me," Liv says carefully, "she was so proud of you. And she loved you. She knew you were just trying to help. Even if she didn't like or agree with your method."

"I told you before, I was overcompensating. Mom was right, I am "always busy." I didn't make the time to see abuelita as much as I could. I didn't deserve how much she loved me. I was a poor excuse for a grandson. I can help others in court but I couldn't even really help my own grandmother. What kind of person does that make me?" The anger and sadness in his voice breaks Liv's heart.

"Human. We all make mistakes, we all do things that, in hindsight, we probably shouldn't have done. But you, Rafael Barba, you help the way you think is best and I have never seen you give less than 100% to anything that you do. You did the best you could."

He smiles sadly at her. "Thanks, Liv."

"I know you might not believe me," Liv interrupts him before he could speak further, "but you've helped so many people and she knew that. What happened between you didn't change how proud she was of you."

"My mother blames me too, you know." He says abruptly. "She didn't say it but I know she does. I saw it on her face. Just one more way in which I was a failure. I was never as good as Alex, never could live up to her expectations, and she never has quite forgiven me for leaving el barrio. And now this? I'm always going to be a disappointment to her. That'll never change."

"You can't be responsible for other people, you know this. Someday, when the pain is less raw and there's some distance, your mother will realize what a truly good son and grandson you are. Even though you can be a royal pain in the fucking ass."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence, Liv." Barba chuckles a little, the tightness around his mouth and eyes easing.

"Rafael Barba, have you ever known me to blow smoke up your ass?"

"Not to my recollection but it's been a long week. Get back with me next Friday." He smirks at her, despite his sorrow, and they share a smile.

"I am very sorry for your loss." Liv quickly become serious again. "But it wasn't your fault. Dammit, Barba, quit flogging yourself over things that are out of your control." She adds more gently. "It's wrong. You know better. We have enough pain in this life without giving ourselves more."

Barba knows she's right.

"I can't believe she's gone." His voice is raspy with tears, the ones that he's kept banked down inside of him.

You are my juez, Rafi. Siempre. Always.

"If there's one thing I've learned over the years it's that the ones we love are never truly gone. You're her blood, her family. She'll always be with you."

Liv leans over and rubs his shoulder. "Barba, you were a good grandson. And you are a good counselor and a good friend. You have nothing to apologize for. I just wish you could see that."

And they sit in silence, looking out the window at the New York night. Liv simply grips his hand. Because, for some moments, words are too much and not enough.

At that moment, a little wail breaks the loaded atmosphere.

"I'm sorry, Barba," Liv stands up, "I should get him. I'll be right back."

"It's okay, Liv, I should go." he says quietly.

"No, please stay for dinner." She smiles at him. "Noah and I would like that. That is, if you haven't made plans already."

"I have no plans. I think Mom and I need a little time apart, truthfully."

"How do you feel about pizza?"

"Homemade?"

She rolls her eyes a little. "Come on, Barba, does it look like I've had time to make pizza? When I'm trying to keep an eye on a very active little boy? I may be good but I'm not that good."

He laughs. "Fair enough. I know a place. They deliver and the pizza is good. It's on me."

"Have at it." She calls over her shoulder as she goes to get Noah.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER

By the time Liv walks out with a clean Noah, Rafael's rolled up his sleeves and pouring some red wine.

"Barba, you're a lifesaver." She smiles at him with gratitude.

"No, Liv, you are." It's the closest he comes to saying thank you.

"I do what I can. Here," she holds Noah out, "want to give this another try?"

"Uh, Liv, do you remember what happened last time?" Barba looks at her apprehensively and she struggles not to chuckle at the expression on his face.

"How can I forget?" She laughs. "Come on, Rafael, he's a baby, not Waterford crystal."

Somewhat reluctantly, Barba opens his arms and takes Noah.

"Hello." He starts bouncing Noah awkwardly.

Noah eyes him suspiciously. You're the funny man that doesn't know how to hold me. Why is mommy giving me to you again? We really need to discuss this handing-me-over-to-funny-people habit of hers.

"Careful," Liv chuckles, "you don't want him to throw up on you." She takes a sip of her red wine. "Relax a little, Barba, he's not going to bite."

Barba looks at her helplessly, gingerly patting Noah on the back. "Gah!" Noah reaches for Barba's nose, patting it.

Oh well, if he's going to be holding me, might as well make the best of it...

"Aw, he likes you. I told you so." Liv's grinning now.

"Is he always this grabby?" Barba tilts his head out of the reach of Noah's chubby little fingers.

Yes, I am this grabby but what's the big deal? I'm a baby.

"Oh, yes." Liv laughs. "He's pulled out so much of my hair it's a wonder I have any left. Thankfully, he's pulled out some of my greys. Haven't you, baby boy?" She crinkles her nose and grins at her son.

Better than that nasty smelling hair dye you use and think I don't know about.

Barba now has Noah partly cradled in his arms, which is difficult because Noah is not that small anymore. He starts gently rocking. One of his fingers accidentally pokes Noah's belly and the baby giggles. Barba smiles and repeats the gesture. Noah flails his arms and starts laughing.

"Ah, you like that, eh?" Barba smiles.

Actually, no, but you looked sad and now you don't so I'll just keep laughing. I do have some questions, though...

Noah starts babbling excitedly.

Do you know Elmo is red? Do you know I like to break things? Do you like sharks? Why are you looking at me like you don't understand what I'm saying? You're a weird man.

"Do you want me to take him?" Liv asks, looking at both of them with amusement.

"I wouldn't mind holding him for a little longer." Rafael grins sheepishly. "As long as he doesn't decide to vomit."

"He should be good for now." Liv grinned. "What was the ETA on the pizza?"

"About ten more minutes."

Barba walks over to the couch with Noah and sits down. Seated on Barba's lap, Noah looks at him curiously and then starts playing with his buttons, babbling quietly.

These are pretty. I wonder if he'll miss one, he looks like he has lots of them. Maybe I can take two and share with Elmo. Elmo likes the shiny things.

The pizza's delicious.

Noah's decided he doesn't want to be held by Liv and protests loudly.

This little man is kinda fun. Sure, he doesn't hold babies very well but it's okay He knows how to make me laugh. Mommy must've taught him. So he must be a friend. I like making friends.

"What did I tell you?" Liv smirks at Barba. "Just takes a little practice. I think you've made a new friend."

Noah beams at Barba.

Want to play Elmo vs stuffed shark? I might even let you win.

TWO HOURS LATER

After a lot of protesting and fighting, Noah finally falls asleep, one of Barba's buttons clutched tightly in his fist.

Liv smiles as she gently takes it from the sleeping baby.

"You made quite the impression, Barba."

"Beginner's luck, I think." He smiles a little but shrugs, his eyes a little sad. "Good to see that I can make someone happy."

Even if it is just a little baby.

"Are you going to be all-right?" And she's not talking about Noah anymore.

"I will be." Barba says slowly, meeting Liv's eyes.

"If there is anything you need, anything, you know you can ask me, right?"

"I do," he nods, "Liv, I can't thank you enough."

"No need to thank me. What are friends for?" Liv looks at Barba and smiles. "I'd like to think that when you and I are old and gray, we'll still be sharing evenings like these."

This time the smile reaches his eyes and, for a moment, chases the sorrows away. "Wouldn't that be nice."

And she wraps her arms around him. Rafael lets himself sink into her embrace and for several moments they simply stand there, holding one another. She smells of comfort, of safety...and baby powder. And finally he lets the tears fall.

She's his port in storm, the harbor for his ship.

And he's finally come home.

I am nearly world renowed

As a restless soul who always skips town

But I look for you to come around

and anchor me back down.