This story is 90% complete and I will update it regularly.

Thank you to Joanie for being my beta :-)

I know this starts out pretty depressing - sorry! It is EO, and Munch is a central character. I want him to be at the heart of solving something when noone else can see beyond the smokescreen. He has a lot more depth and complexity than some of the later seasons of SVU showed him to have, mainly because his role was smaller then. I highly recommend watching Homicide if you only know him from SVU as you will learn so much more about him. And rewatch those early SVU seasons, they are gold.

I hope my portrayal of Munch and the contributions he makes to this plot, do justice to the character.

Belief

Prelude

"You're on." said Munch, as he adjusted the lens on the camera, carefully watching as Olivia's image became sharper and more focused.

Olivia took a breath and looked directly into the camera.

"My name is Olivia Benson and I am a detective with the NYPD. My colleagues, Elliot Stabler and John Munch, will make statements following mine. We have each endured weeks of suffering at the hands of the U.S government."

She hesitated, her eyes flitting to her partner who offered her a reassuring nod, before she looked back at the camera.

"These are our stories."

...

Olivia sat at her desk, vaguely aware of the strained, unfamiliar noises in the squad room around her; an uncomfortable combination of hushed voices and muted sounds. She barely acknowledged the various people who walked past her, pausing awkwardly at her desk as they each uttered some kind of attempt at comforting words and reassurances.

Olivia merely avoided eye contact, shifting her eyes enough to acknowledge them without having to take in their predictable sympathy. The concern she saw in every glance was too much to bear. She hadn't even left the squad room yet, and already she felt herself feeling lightheaded, as if the air were too thin; and she didn't even want to think about the journey she had to take.

Thinking wasn't something that she was doing at all anymore - it was better that way - she had learned fast in the previous three weeks, that stopping to think, listen to the kind, well intentioned words of those who undoubtedly cared about her- was simply not a good idea. If she let the numbness wear off, even for a moment, the pain would creep in - and with it, the horror of reality.

Suddenly, Olivia jumped at the unexpected contact of a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she made the big mistake of meeting Captain Cragen's eyes. The concern and sorrow she saw struck her hard, and she suddenly felt a flood of tears pressing behind her eyes. Taking a breath, she let it out slowly and got to her feet, his hand dropping from her shoulder as he hesitated, before speaking.

"We're ready to go Olivia," he said. The quiet, soft tone of this voice unsettling her.

Olivia merely nodded, and took a shaky breath as she waited for Cragen to take the lead. Feeling his hand on her back, she concentrated, letting the familiar numbness wash over her. It would sustain her, she would get through it - if only she didn't stop, didn't take this in, didn't absorb this.

As she entered the elevator, she stood with her back to the wall, leaning heavily as she carefully avoided moving her gaze toward her friends and colleagues. Focusing on the illuminated buttons on the elevator panel instead, she stared hard, swallowing as she felt a wave of nausea washing over her yet again.

She knew that Cragen, Munch and Fin were worried about her; she was barely functioning, she hadn't come back to work yet, and at least one of them would visit her at her apartment every day - they seemed to have an unspoken agreement to ensure that she was not alone.

She didn't mind, she was barely even aware of their presence half of the time; making small talk and eating the food that they brought every day - as if she wouldn't be able to do the simple task of eating if nobody brought it to her. In truth, however she didn't know if she would remember or even bother to, so they probably had a right to be concerned.

The startling tone, indicating that they had reached the ground floor, disturbed her concentration on the dull light of the buttons, and the doors opened to the unusually silent precinct. Following Cragen out of the elevator; Munch, then Fin close behind, she slipped in her determination to not look at anybody else, and glanced up.

Suddenly her vision was filled with a sea of dress uniforms, and her throat began to constrict. The air seemed to leave the room in one fell swoop, along with the eerie lack of voices and the usual sounds that she was so used to hearing in the precinct.

"Liv," Cragen said, as she suddenly felt a rush of air against her, and inhaled a shaky breath.

"Liv," he repeated, his hand resting on her arm.

"Yeah?" she said, as she stopped in her tracks, staring hard at the car in front of her, the door open, Cragen gesturing for her to get in.

"Okay," she whispered, as she climbed in, sliding over the to the opposite end of the seat as Cragen got in next taking a seat opposite, and Munch slid in next to her. Fin finally joined them, closing the door behind him.

Within moments, the car was moving, and Olivia instantly felt a rush of nausea. A sob threatened to escape her, and she battled to control it; battled to control herself.

"How are you holding up Liv?" Munch asked, "It's a stupid question I know, but what else can we do right now except offer meaningless platitudes of sympathy."

Fin glared at Munch, and Olivia suddenly startled them as she let out a strangled laugh. Leaning back, she turned her head toward Munch, meeting his eyes.

"Thanks Munch," she said quietly, aware that her voice was betraying the rush of emotion threatening to spill out.

"For what?" he asked.

"You're the only one who acts normal around me anymore," she said. She gave Munch a small smile, before she suddenly turned away, bending forwards, her elbows resting on her knees as she put her face in her hands and gave in to the barrage of tears that she had fought for three weeks, and simply could not contain any longer.

"We're here for ya Liv, whatever you need," Fin said. "We're all gonna look out for each other."

Munch rested a hand on her back, the way she shook with the sobs that wracked her body, causing his own pain and grief to push the the surface.

"We're gonna get through this day Liv, you're not doing this on your own," Munch said.

The car sped along the familiar streets, as the detectives and their captain sat in relative silence. Munch's hand remained on Olivia's back as she cried - no one spoke and Olivia was grateful for the silence. She did not want to hear any more words of sympathy, assurances of support, she had heard so many now that it was simply becoming white noise to her. She knew they were there for her - not a day went by that she didn't see how much they all cared.

Munch was right, she didn't need their statements of sympathy, promises of support; it was meaningless because she knew they cared. There were no magic words that could turn back time, make this right, change the past, and so she would rather they didn't try.

Cragen watched silently as the car took them closer and closer to a day that he feared Olivia might not recover from.

Her partners funeral.

CHAPTER 1

THREE WEEKS LATER

Olivia stood, looking out across the city from the rooftop of the precinct. She knew that when she said she needed a few minutes before they left, that the others would be watching the clock. Cragen always seemed on edge when she went up to the roof for a moment alone. It grated. The way he watched over her - she knew he was worried, but she hated that he had changed the way he acted around her. Always concerned. Always expecting her to snap at any moment.

And she hadn't.

She had returned to work and remained focused, composed, throwing herself into the job. She rebutted all attempts at having coffee, or drinks after work, from any of them, despite knowing they would stop by her apartment - check up on her, not allow more than a day to go by without one of them seeing her.

Turning around, she sat down heavily on the ground, her back against the wall as she took out her cell phone and cradled it in her hands. She could never work out whether she was easing her pain or causing her grief to worsen, but still she could not stop herself.

The ache deep in her chest, her heart, her mind - it all eased for the briefest of moments when she heard his voice. Those brief words - so familiar and so lost to her now.

Pressing the first number on her speed dial, she put the phone to her ear and squeezed her eyes closed tightly as she let the sound of his voice comfort her momentarily.

'Stabler, leave a message.'

Olivia took a deep, shuddering breath and exhaled before speaking, her voice a strained whisper, "...I miss you Elliot."

As she ended the call, the familiar stab of pain hit her - she was sure it was worse every time she called his cell phone, yet she couldn't stop. Still holding her phone tightly in her hand, she dropped her head to her knees and let the pain and grief take her over as she cried.

She couldn't do it everyday. Coming to work, trying to move on, to keep going. Trying to show everyone how very ok she was, when in reality she didn't feel in the slightest bit ok.

It scared her at times how low she realised she was falling.

She wondered if Cragen wasn't far off the mark with his concerned glances - maybe he should be worried, because she didn't know how she could ever be the same again.

The morning was a long slew of paperwork and the occasional visitors from other units, who would stop briefly and awkwardly at her desk to offer their condolences before rushing off to whatever the true purpose of their visit was.

Cragen finally let her out of the squad room when they received an urgent call about a case she had been involved in a few days previously. She jumped up to leave quickly, out of the door and heading to the elevator with Munch rushing to catch her up.

"Woah Liv, slow down," he said, as the elevator doors opened, and they both went in, "you can't shake me off that easily. I have something you need."

Olivia stared at him in confusion as the elevator approached the ground floor, and sighed, "Ok John, what do you have that I need?"

Munch held up a set of keys and offered them to her, "The keys to your heart. Who's driving?"

The call out was a stark contrast to the atmosphere in the squad room. It was fraught. They had little time to think and prepare - Olivia liked that. Responding to a situation and not having to think.

Olivia ran up the metal steps, focusing only on the shaft of light coming from the battered door at the top of the steps. Munch followed closely behind her, the sound of the steps clattering as they raced up them.

Placing her hands on the door, she pushed, a rush of cold air hitting her as the light flooded the stairwell. Her eyes locked onto the woman immediately. Her pace instinctively slowed as she took in the scene in front of her. Munch followed suit, their instincts taking over as they slowed down and approached cautiously.

The woman stood on the edge of the roof, her arm outstretched, hand gripping an old iron railing deathly tight. She nervously looked down over the edge, inching further from the security of the railing, panic flooding her eyes.

"Come down Sarah," Olivia said, "it's over now."

"I killed him, after everything he did I'm no better than him," Sarah said, her voice shaking with barely controlled emotion.

"Don't do this, don't let him win." Olivia said.

Sarah jerked her head in panic as Munch's radio came to life, the crackle of the static and the distorted voices breaking her thoughts, as he placed his hand over the radio to dull the noise.

"I'm just going to tell them not to come up Sarah, then it's just you, and me and Detective Benson, ok?"

Sarah stared, tears filling her eyes before she swallowed and nodded, her gaze then focusing a little more and she moved her eyes from Munch to Olivia.

"You need to come down Sarah, please," Olivia said, as she stepped closer, reaching out her hand, "take my hand and come off the ledge."

In a split second, as Sarah shuffled closer to the edge, Olivia closed the distance between then and climbed up - standing inches apart, her hand stretching for the railing that Sarah held more loosely now.

Olivia's eyes focused on Sarah's slackened grip on the railing, realising that she could not reach it to steady herself without stepping even closer to Sarah and risking crowding her, and quickly dropped her hand to her side. Munch watched, his eye moving to the ledge, which was really too narrow for anyone to be standing on. The brick dust crumbled and billowed into the air with every small movement Olivia made.

Olivia continued to look straight at Sarah - not looking at the ledge, not even affording a glance as to work out how much room she had to maneuver.

"Y...you're gonna fall, get down," Sarah said, visibly trembling now.

"Dont worry about me, it's you I'm concerned about,"

Olivia raised her arms out to her sides, the wind blowing through her hair, and the orange brick dust falling faster now from beneath her shoes. "See - I'm not coming any closer, I'm not going to try and pull you down. Hold on tighter to that railing honey, and just step down. I'm not coming down until you do."

As her words left her, her ankle twisted slightly, as a lump of brick gave way beneath her. Olivia winced at the sharp pain in her ankle, and swiftly adjusted her stance, moving to hold her hand out to the girl this time.

"Olivia come down," Munch said, his voice uneven, a tinge of fear showing through.

Olivia turned her head and looked down at the street below, filled with cars and people; filled with life. She looked back up at Sarah and smiled sadly, "You have your little brother to take care of, he needs you. You have people who love you. Don't tell me you have nothing to live for. Come down for him."

"What good am I in prison?" she said, tears falling freely as her emotion took over.

"It was self defense Sarah - you threatened to talk to the police about him and he was more violent this time, you said in your statement that you thought he was going to kill you. You're going to be here for your brother, to live a life with him. He needs you."

Olivia stumbled as a large part of the ledge gave way suddenly, the brick breaking and sliding off, wedging firmly into a pipe running along the edge of the building.

Munch swore under his breath as he stepped closer to Olivia, reaching out his hand until he was able to close his fingers around her wrist, and keep a firm hold.

Sarah took a deep breath and gripped the railing tightly, her knuckles whitening with the intensity of her grip as she suddenly used it as leverage to step down and onto the safety of the roof.

Munch took her arm and sat her down on the ground, pulling Olivia down in the same swift movement, casting a worried glance at her as he let go of her wrist.

After a cautionary glance at Sarah, he turned Olivia to face him, taking her shoulders in his hands, gripping firmly and looking intently at her, "What were you thinking, that was crazy." he whispered, trying to avoid Sarah overhearing the conversation. "That whole ledge was crumbling under your feet.."

Olivia turned her head, glancing at the ledge where she had been balanced without a second thought moments earlier.

"I didn't notice," she said, the detached tone of her voice sending a slight chill through Munch.

"Come on Liv," he said, his voice filling with concern and compassion for his friend. "let's get you both out of here." He placed a hand on her back as she placed her own hand on the victim's arm, helping her up as they made their way towards the doorway.

….

Munch sat in Cragen's office, Olivia's actions and obvious lack of care for her own well being were playing on his mind. It was delicate balance though, Cragen wanted an update, wanted to know how she was doing, but he was sure that in reality what Cragen wanted to hear was simply that Olivia was doing ok, getting by, coping a little better with each day. He wanted the truth, but he didn't want to hear it. However, he didn't think that raising a red flag which would put the spotlight on her was what she needed.

He sighed knowing he had to tread carefully. He didn't want to raise any concerns without talking to Olivia first, but Cragen had called him in unexpectedly and blindsided him.

"She's been back and partnered with you unofficially for three weeks - how's it going?" Cragen asked.

"She's….been through a huge loss Captain, it's gonna take time for her."

Cragen frowned and leant forward, his arms resting on his desk, "Do I need to be worried about her?"

"She needs to keep busy, and she won't like it if she's restricted. She'll hate you for it, and me for suggesting it, but I think she needs more time before she's back out in the field."

Cragen sighed, "Is she talking to you?"

"Other than a detailed critique of my barista skills last week, the conversation doesn't stray further than her irritation at everyone else for treating her like she's made of glass." Munch replied.

"How worried are you John?" Cragen asked.

"In all seriousness, I am worried, but she's grieving, and if we all stand by her, she'll start to get through this. She needs time."

"I could restrict her caseload - if I'm more picky about what I give her, she'll realise that, but that's a middle ground at least. It keeps her busy." Cragen said.

Munch sighed and reclined in his chair, "I think she'll come through this - but it's only been six weeks Captain, it'll take time. All we can do is keep a close eye on her - be there, watch her back."

"Thanks John, I will have a chat with her later once I've had a think. Keep me posted - we have to all work to pull each other through this. This has hit us all hard, but Liv the most." he leaned back, sorrow emanating through the composed he mask he tried, as their Captain to wear, despite the tragedy which had rocked them all to the core.

Olivia Benson's Apartment.

Olivia closed the door behind her, leaning against it before sliding the bolt across. She stared at the bundle of mail in her hand. Tossing it onto the accumulating pile of mail that she hadn't got around to opening in the last few weeks, she paused to pick up a small brown package, but decided against opening any of it as she sighed and dropped it all back down on to the counter.

Throwing her keys down onto the kitchen counter, she grabbed a glass from her cabinet and poured some water into it. She registered for a moment that her kitchen was pretty spotless, despite the fact that she couldn't remember the last time she had cleaned it. A moment of guilt flashed across her mind as she recalled Fin, when he 'dropped by' over the weekend, clattering around in her kitchen. She made a mental note to thank him for cleaning up, and tell him not to do it again. She hated that they all felt that they had to look after her - but she couldn't deny that she was also comforted by their actions too.

The day had just become worse and worse, first with Munch taking her to one side to tell her Cragen had asked him how she was coping, which got her back up straight away, although she knew that Munch had been on the spot, and would have spoken to her beforehand if he had been able to. His declaration that she essentially, 'scared the crap out of him on a weekly basis' with her lack of concern for her own wellbeing, got to her.

She was simmering at that point, but then Cragen called her in and expressed his concern, yet again. Yet another invitation to see the department shrink, which she said she would definitely make contact with this time.

She slipped the contact details into her pocket, with no intention of giving it a second thought as she went back to her desk.

She couldn't face it. She couldn't handle talking about Elliot - she would go along with it if she could talk about anything else, but he would be the centre of everything they discussed.

She was only holding on by not thinking about him.

She sat down on her couch after grabbing the bundle of unopened mail and this time tossing it onto the coffee table in front of her. Leaning back she closed her eyes, trying to push out the memories that fought hard to jump to the surface.

It was always harder when she was alone. She had always been alone, she was used to the silence and it didn't bother her, because it was her silence. It was her apartment, her life - the world she had built for herself. That same silence had become almost unbearable now though. Every time she shut her door, that same silence swooped down in an oppressive almost haunting way. As well as she did it, when she blocked everything out by keeping busy and occupied, as soon as she was alone, her thoughts turned to him.

It was almost as though her mind were betraying her - rebelling against her hard fought battle to keep her partner out of her head. But she knew it was futile. She wanted to think of him, wanted him in her mind and her heart. She needed her memories of him just as much as she needed to stop thinking about him in order to function day by day.

She leaned back against the soft cushions of her couch, and the familiar biting pain cut through her - as she allowed herself to remember him.

Just a few weeks ago really, not that long. So little time had passed by relatively since he had last been in her apartment. She closed her eyes and squeezed them shut against the harsh pain of the memory.

They'd had a rough few weeks, they'd fought, they'd fixed things between them and they'd fought again. The case had dragged on and on, it had been a rough ride for the whole squad but Olivia and Elliot had both become so involved. It had ended with two arrests, and the evidence was solid, so they had finally been able to rest. Then followed two quieter days, they returned to the comfortable, relaxed atmosphere they were used to, and Elliot had sat next to her, on her couch, a beer in his hand.

They talked - nothing really meaningful, just talk, but it was light, positive, and at times almost flirtatious. As Elliot pushed the conversation slightly more in that direction, he eyed her carefully, wanting to make sure he wasn't crossing a line - that she was on the same page as him.

Olivia was most definitely on the same page as him. She felt nervous as the flirtatious nature of the conversation increased initially, feeling also, that she might be going a little too far, but she mirrored her partner as she took note of his responses, and she soon fell into a comfortable ease.

It was minutes into that comfortable ease, that he relaxed back on her couch, his arm, intended to drape across the back of the couch, dropping slightly lower, his fingertips skimming her shoulder.

The light touch made her shiver very slightly, but it did not escape his notice.

He knew he was the cause, and he was relieved she had reacted that way. His confidence grew at that accidental touch and he allowed his arm to drop down, nudging her forward slightly, as he draped his arm across her shoulders.

Olivia smiled, and instinctively sunk into his embrace, and he responded by pulling her closer to him. She shuffled around slightly and her head settled onto his chest.

She smiled. It was warm, comfortable - right.

Moments later Elliot took a deep breath and turned slightly, leaning down as he placed a kiss on her head. A light and careful kiss - testing the waters.

Olivia's heart raced as she mustered up the courage to lift her head from his chest and turn to look at him. She wanted to kiss him more than anything at that moment, but it was a line she was far too afraid to cross. His friendship, their partnership, not to mention the fact that he had only been divorced for four weeks - there was so much to consider and Olivia was too afraid of losing what she had with him.

Elliot paused, their eyes locking, as he leaned in slightly. He was moments from dropping his mouth to hers, moments from taking a bold step across their boundaries. His eyes dropped to her lips, the need to cover her mouth with his, becoming too strong to fight.

They focused only on each other. That moment - those precious seconds between them where they came so close, she would never know if they would have kissed had they not been interrupted; when Olivia's cell phone lit up, moving across the table as it vibrated.

Olivia dropped her eyes and focused on her phone, feeling equally as relieved for the interruption as she was annoyed. Sighing, she picked it up.

Elliot watched her as she spoke to Cragen, leaning over to pick up a pen and notepad from the side table and jotted down an address. He couldn't focus on her words, he just wanted to take the phone out of her hand, end the call, take her face in his hands and kiss her.

He wanted to kiss her and feel her relax and reciprocate with equal passion and want. Feel her relax into his arms like she had done on the couch with his arm around her.

Olivia ended the call and looked at him, the fear of picking up where they had left off taking hold.

She took a deep breath and let it slowly, "We should….we should go, I told Cragen I'd pick you up."

Elliot looked at her, puzzled, "Why didn't you just tell him I was here?"

"I don't know, I just...didn't want him to think that we were…" she replied hesitantly.

"It's ok Liv," Elliot said with a warm smile, despite the regret he felt at losing their moment, "We're ok. Let's go."

Five hours later she was at Mercy General, being treated for superficial burns, after she ran into the building that had been the unexpected sight of an explosion.

Cragen had broken the news to her that Elliot had not made it out. He had watched her refusing to accept it. Her anger escalating as she insisted they go back and find him. That he needed help, that they couldn't give up.

She ignored all of her friends and colleagues words; words which only made her angry, and slipped out of the hospital to go back to the scene. Her anger escalated when she couldn't get past the fire crew and bomb squad, with the building not declared secure.

Fin had located her just as the fire crew came out of the remains of the building announcing that there were no survivors.

From that point onwards, she could only remember sitting on the ground. Fin pulling his jacket around her, his hands on her shoulders, asking her to look at him, and if she could hear him.

She became numb then, and she realised it was far less painful if she just stayed that way.

Glancing at her cell phone, she battled the urge to call his voicemail again - she was beginning to call him multiple times in a day, and she knew she probably needed to talk to someone. Cragen had tried hard in his attempts to get her to see the department psychiatrist, offered to make an appointment with Huang, given her numbers to call if she wanted to speak to someone independently of the NYPD.

'I'm just concerned about you Olivia.'

Cragen was concerned.

Fin was giving her awkward, sympathetic glances, and just being plain angry towards everyone else.

Munch - he was just Munch. She was so thankful for that. He didn't walk on eggshells around her, didn't look at her with that growing unease that Cragen did. He was just the same as he always was - except he knew when she needed him to take a step back and when she needed a sympathetic smile. Sometimes she really did - but the rest of them just didn't know when to stop - constant sympathetic glances and flashes of concern were too much.

And the look - the look Cragen gave her when she came down from the roof each time. It was almost as though he didn't expect her to walk back through the door, and each time he seemed more relieved that she had.

She hated that. Hated that he looked at her in that way. That way that said she was fragile - too fragile.

That she could be gone at any moment - just like Elliot.

Olivia leant forward with a defeated sigh and picked up the mail, leafing through the letters, making a mental note that some probably needed to be opened and responded to, but nothing appeared urgent. She glanced at them, tossing them one by one onto her coffee table until she came again to the small brown package - tearing it open she put her hand in and her fingers closed around the contents. Pulling it out, she stared hard as a wave of nausea instantly washed over her. She looked inside the package - hoping desperately to find a note, an explanation, but felt increasingly colder and sicker as her mind and heart raced in confusion.

Turning the package over in her hand she searched for a post mark, but the packaging had nothing to indicate where it had come from.

Olivia's head spun as her thoughts jumbled maddeningly around. She stood up, pacing back and forth, clutching the cause of her shock in her hand tightly, so tightly that she began to leave an imprint against her skin, which was gradually reddening.

Walking to her kitchen counter she slammed it down, hard, next to her gun and badge and stepped back, backing into the counter behind her without moving her eyes from it. Suddenly she heard a laugh and wondered who in the hell would be so inappropriate to laugh at her, when her whole world, that had already done a pretty good job of destroying itself, had just crashed around her again.

It took several minutes for her to realise that the laugh was actually coming from her. She stopped laughing abruptly as she realised this and her eyes filled with tears, as her hand ran through her hair, settling on the back of her neck where she squeezed slightly, attempting to ground herself, keep a grip on reality.

"Christ, I'm losing it," she whispered.

Spinning around, she pulled open a cupboard and reached up, her hand closing around the bottle, the glass felt warm in her hand, reminding her how cold she was actually feeling.

She shivered suddenly, and reached for a glass with her other hand. Placing them both on the counter, she stifled her sob, as she fought to control her emotions. Unscrewing the cap, she shakily poured a generous measure into the glass, spilling the liquid onto the counter as she placed the bottle back down, harder than she intended to, not bothering to screw the cap back on.

Bracing her hands against the countertop, she closed her eyes, as her tears flowed, stronger now than her attempt at willpower, her battle to stay in control was hopelessly lost.

Taking a deep breath she turned around, exhaling slowly, as her eyes fell on the contents of the envelope once more. A humourless laugh escaped her, as she stared hard before speaking, her voice low and wary,

"What the hell is this?"

Chapter 2 will be in a few days. Thanks for reading! I promise more Munch in the next chapter - and don't worry, despite the way it starts, this story has EO at its heart.