Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Fading Away	By : Bucken-Berry Category: G through L > Law & Order Views: 1529 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own SVU or its characters and I'm not making any money here.

Chapter List
- 1-Fading Away
- 1
A/N: Rafael Barba is now tied for my favorite character. Words can't express how much I love him.

Which, of course, means I have to write fic where all sorts of terrible things happen to him.

So yeah, this one is really soul-crushing and tearjerking. Don't read if character death is too upsetting for you. And please don't hate me for writing this! *Holds up Rafael-shaped-cookie as truce*

Enjoy! Or not...

Olivia watched Rafael sleep fitfully. Watched him frowning deeply and making soft whimpering sounds, watched his legs kick as he twisted in the sheets.
She reached over to shake him awake, but found that he was already waking up, gulping for air. She set her hand on his face and smoothed his hair back, stroking his hot forehead gently.
"Liv," Rafael croaked, opening his eyes.
"Right here," Olivia whispered.
Rafael turned his head to look at her, his vision poor enough that he'd barely be able to see her otherwise. Holding his left arm out, he waited for Olivia to grab on, and then he pulled her hand to his chest, setting it against his heart.
"Good... morning?" Rafael said, voice raspy.
Olivia used her free hand to grab the cup of ice, spooning some into Rafael's mouth. He swallowed gratefully, licking his lips.
"Not quite morning yet; the sun's not up," Olivia said. "Want to see?"
Rafael nodded, so Olivia got up and opened the blinds, letting in some of the city lights, and soon the light from the sunrise would stream in as well.
She turned and looked at him for a long moment, biting her lip.
Not long now, she thought helplessly.
She returned to Rafael's bedside and took his hand again, stroking his warm face with the other. He started to cough, hard, struggling to breathe. Olivia gently set a hand on his chest, giving him something to press against.
Once the fit finally ended, Rafael fell back against the pillow, panting hard, eyes closed. He was sickly pale, and he looked tired, frail, especially considering how much weight he'd lost.
"Do you want to go back to sleep?" Olivia asked softly, seeing how much strength he'd lost already.
"There'll be plenty of time for that soon enough," Rafael said, but his voice lacked the sarcastic tone it would have ordinarily had.
Olivia winced, but couldn't think of anything to say to that. It wasn't like he was wrong.
"Feel up to walking some? I can get you to the window," Olivia said, changing the topic.
Rafael smiled wryly, shaking his head. "I'll take the cheap seat, thanks."
"I don't think there's anything cheap about this bed," Olivia retorted.
"Mmm, I don't know about that. There is this one pillow," Rafael muttered, patting the pillow on the space next to him.
"Hey, that's my pillow!" Olivia exclaimed with mock hurt.
"My point exactly," Rafael said with a hoarse, rusty laugh.
And Olivia joined in, a little harder than she would have otherwise, because in situations like this, the choice was between laughing or going crazy from wallowing in the sadness.
Rafael strode through the precinct, briefcase in one hand and coffee in the other, a coat draped over his left arm. He came to a stop in front of the corkboard and was greeted by Olivia and Nick.
"Found me anything that falls within the statute of limitations yet?" he asked dryly.
And just then, he noticed how out of breath he felt. That was strange, he thought, frowning slightly. He hadn't done anything taxing. He had no reason to be breathless like this.
"You alright?" Olivia asked him. "You look a little pale."
"I'm fine," Rafael said. He took a few deep breaths and then said, in a voice that sounded perfectly normal, "So have you found me anything yet?"
"None of the boys are talking," Olivia began.
"Then I guess I just wasted a couple gallons of gas coming over here," Rafael said. "My phone appreciates the break."
"You know, one of these days, you might find letting us get a word in edgewise saves some time," Nick said.
"What did you find, then?" Rafael asked simply, sipping at his coffee.
"Something better. Clyde Baker's state-of-the-art laptop has a keylogger installed by his parents," Olivia said. "We managed to find a record of his chat logs where he begged Samantha Green to leave him alone, not to come over to his house anymore, that he hated what she was making him do."
"Not enough for an indictment, but we're getting there," Rafael said. With that, he left the room, his normal self to all appearances.
But the breathless sensation didn't go away for several minutes after that.
Rafael was sleeping again. Despite his efforts not to miss any of the time he had left, he slept for upwards of 16 hours a day- on a good day. On bad days, he sometimes didn't wake at all, except for when Olivia roused him for his pills.
Olivia watched him for a while and then attached a blood pressure cuff to his arm, tightening it like his doctor had showed her. His blood pressure was far lower than it should have been, and his heart rate was too fast. 150 beats per minute. But that wasn't too bad, considering his condition.
She wrote his measurements down and then walked to the bathroom, wetting a cloth to set on his forehead. He hadn't felt up to leaving the bed for the last few days, but she always made sure before washing him in bed. So for now, she just stuck with a cool washcloth on his forehead.
Why couldn't he breathe ?
Rafael was panting hard, one hand holding his chest. He felt like he'd just sprinted a mile; his lungs felt like they were bursting, and he couldn't seem to get enough air into them. And he hadn't even walked across the room.
This had to be what dying felt like.
He started to panic at the thought, and his stomach dropped that cold feeling clenched his insides. He sat- more like collapsed, really- onto the sofa in his office and tried to figure out how he could ask for an ambulance when he couldn't even make a sound.
This was how it was going to end, him dying from a heart attack or whatever this was in the middle of his office, discovered by one of his assistants as they walked in to remind him that he was due in court in an hour.
He guessed all his years of excessive caffeine usage and his unhealthy diet had caught up to him, years earlier than it should have.
And then, as suddenly as the episode had started, it ended.
He looked around the room, unable to believe this wasn't a trick, unable to believe he was still alive. He gulped in as much air as he could without hurting himself, rubbing his chest with his knuckles. Tears were in his eyes, though whether it was from the emotion or some kind of physiological response was beyond him.
Shaking hard, he pushed himself upwards. He felt a little dizzy, lightheaded, and faint, but nothing he couldn't handle.
Making a note to call his doctor as soon as he got time, he left the room and headed to court. A victim was waiting for him to bring her justice, and he couldn't do that if he was in a hospital bed, could he?
"Hey," Olivia called softly, shaking Rafael's shoulder. "You need to eat."
"M'not hungry," Rafael grumbled.
"If you want your pills, you need to get something down, unless you want an upset stomach," Olivia said firmly.
"Just a few minutes," Rafael said, closing his eyes. Olivia almost felt a sympathetic wave of exhaustion just watching his lethargy.
"Okay. Just five minutes," she whispered, putting the washcloth back in the bowl, wringing it out, and then setting it back on Rafael's forehead. "Then you have to eat."
"Z'not like they work anymore," Rafael protested.
"I know," Olivia said, "But it's better to at least try. Don't want to use up all the fentanyl shots." He'd been needing the rescue drugs more and more often, and Olivia didn't want him to give up on his maintenance medicines yet. Sooner or later, though, she'd have to call his doctor about getting him hooked up to an IV. More and more defeats had been coming in the last few days; Rafael being unable to leave the bed, his vision decreasing, having a harder time breathing, sleeping all day, and now his pain becoming unmanageable.
"Five minutes. That's all," Olivia said, noticing that Rafael was almost asleep. But the words were more to steel herself than to remind Rafael. In all honesty, she would let him sleep in peace all day if she didn't need to wake him up. But he still needed his medicines, so she had to bring him back to his agonizing reality much more often than she wanted to.
"Five minutes," she repeated, stroking his cheek.
"Hmmm," Rafael muttered, more asleep than awake.
"Hey! Barba! What's wrong?!" Amanda demanded, setting a hand on Rafael's shoulder and trying to guide him to a nearby bench.
Barba shook his head wordlessly, breathing labored.
"Are you okay?" Amanda asked. Rafael shook his head again, and that told her all she needed to know. Rafael had never admitted weakness before.
"Call an ambulance," Amanda called to Nick.
"Got it," Nick called, reaching for his radio.
Rafael realized just a second too late what his 'strange feeling' meant. "O-oh... I'm... gonna..." he whispered, but then everything faded to black.
"Barba?!" Olivia cried, rushing across the room to catch him before he fell. She was too late, and she cringed as she heard the soft thud of him hitting the unforgiving floor. She moved forward faster than she thought possible, and was at his side in seconds.
"What happened?" she demanded, turning to Amanda.
"I don't know," Amanda said tersely. "He stopped suddenly, and couldn't answer our questions. Nick called an ambulance a minute ago, and then..." She gestured her hands at Rafael's unconscious form.
Olivia nodded, throat tight with fear. In a way, this was more terrifying than an obvious injury like a gunshot. At least then, she could tell what was wrong. But right now, she had no idea why Rafael, normally a healthy person, had passed out so suddenly. She didn't know whether it was as minor as him not eating enough, or something that was killing him.
The EMTs had just loaded him onto a stretcher and secured a blanket around him when he stirred, looking around the room dazedly.
"Barba!" Olivia said, setting a hand on his shoulder.
"... I..." Rafael blinked up at her, clearly disoriented. "I don't... feel so good..." he whispered, closing his eyes against the bright light in the courthouse.
"Okay," Olivia said softly. "Just hang in there a while, alright? Barba?"
Suddenly, Rafael turned his head to the side, pressed his face against the blanket, and started to cough violently, making the stretcher rattle.
Olivia squeezed his shoulder gently and tried to ease him to a more comfortable position, but froze in horror as she saw the dark red blood under where Rafael's mouth had been moments earlier.
"O-okay," she said, inhaling slowly to calm herself. "Okay, Barba, just hang in there, okay?"
Rafael nodded once, turning to look at her. "D... don't... leave... though... okay?" he whispered, voice scratchy from the coughs.
Olivia wasn't sure what scared her more; the blood Rafael had coughed up, or the vulnerability he was making no attempt to hide.
Olivia frowned, setting her ear in front of Rafael's mouth to listen to his breathing. It was short and shallow, which made dread coil up inside her.
She stroked his hair, offering him comfort the only way she could at the moment.
"Olivia," Rafael said, walking to her desk. "Can we talk? Privately?"
Immediately alarmed by his serious voice and the request itself, Olivia nodded and guided him to Cragen's thankfully empty office. "What's wrong?" she asked.
Rafael patted the desk beside him, motioning her to sit down. She complied, turning so she was looking at him.
"That day when I passed out," Rafael began. Olivia nodded, realizing where this was going and not liking it one bit. "The doctors ran some tests, and..."
"And?" Olivia asked, desperate for him to answer but simultaneously never wanting to hear.
"I have lung cancer, Olivia."
"Rafael," Olivia said sternly, shaking his shoulder. "Come on, it's been a half hour."
Rafael groaned in protest, but opened his eyes, looking at her wearily.
Olivia felt so guilty, seeing the exhausted look in his eyes, but reminded herself that this was for his own good. The pain medicine, the antibiotics to treat his most recent bout of pneumonia, and the other drugs- he needed all of them.
"Come on. Just do this, and you can go back to sleep," Olivia said, moving onto the bed so she could help Rafael sit up.
"Yes, boss," Rafael said grumpily. Then his face softened and he said, "Just help me up."
"Ready?" Olivia asked, sliding a her arm under Rafael's shoulders. Rafael nodded, and she slowly pulled him up, letting his head rest against the backboard.
"You gonna pass out?" she asked, noting his lack of response.
Rafael shook his head, raising a hand to his temple. "Just need a minute," he said. He inhaled purposefully, letting the air fill his lungs, but not breathing so deeply that it hurt. Once he felt a little steadier, he opened his eyes and reached for the glass of water and small handful of pills. "Bottoms up," he said wryly, swallowing a few pills at a time with the water.
Once the task was done, he laid down again, holding Olivia's hand tightly. Tightly for him, anyway.
"Thank you," he murmured, but Olivia knew that what he was really saying, in his own way, was, "I love you."
"No problem," she said, stroking the back of his hand.
"For the last time- NO, Olivia!" Rafael snapped, slamming his briefcase onto the desk.
"Why not?" Olivia demanded, stepping into his space.
"You really want to know?" he all but shouted, squeezing the handle of his briefcase. They'd had this argument ten times in the last three days already, and he was getting tired of it. If an explanation would get Olivia to back off... well, there was a risk of it just opening more doors, but he figured it was worth a try.
"Because," he said, voice catching and dropping to a whisper, "Because I don't want you to see me like that. My mother and sister already agreed. They'll take good care of me, I promise." He grinned, though it was completely hollow. "You know me. I wouldn't accept any less."
Olivia gave a soft laugh that sounded closer to a sob. Truth be told, there were times when Rafael was more worried about how Olivia was handling this than he was about his own health.
"True," she said. "You wouldn't."
Rafael curled in on himself, gasping and twisting in pain.
"Where's the pain, and how bad is it on a scale of one to ten?" Olivia asked, already readying a syringe of fentanyl.
"Ten," he moaned, sweat breaking out over his skin. "Chest... back..." he added through clenched teeth. He wrapped his arms around himself and cried out, just as Olivia finished getting the medicine ready.
"Hold still," she said. Rafael groaned, shaking his head. "I know it hurts, but you have to stay still," Olivia said. She stroked Rafael's forehead gently, trying to soothe him. Finally he managed to stop, eyes squeezed shut, breath harsh and heavy.
Olivia plunged the needle into his upper arm, pulling it out once all the medicine had been administered. "Can you hold on until it kicks in?" she asked gently.
"Don't got much choice, do I?" Rafael said, and the pure misery in his voice made Olivia's heart clench.
Rafael didn't deserve this, Olivia thought, tightening her hands into fists and digging the nails into her palms. Didn't deserve this agony, didn't deserve to be dying. Not when there were so many rapists and murderers free to roam the streets.
No matter how often she tried to accept that life just wasn't fair, she could never make peace with this. She couldn't be okay with Rafael, of all people, dying a slow, terrible death like this.
Olivia gathered Rafael into her arms, letting his head rest over her chest so he could be lulled by her heartbeat. He listened and started to relax, especially when she started massaging his lower back.
"Hang in there," Olivia whispered. It was all she could do.
"Hnnnh," Rafael replied, something between an affirming hum and a protesting groan.
"Rafael said he didn't want visitors, Miss?..." A soft, feminine voice greeted Olivia. She looked old, but strong, face wrinkled but muscles firm, hair gray but thick, wearing glasses that made her look more dignified than most glasses did.
She could only be Rafael's mother, Isabel. Rafael had told Olivia a bit about her over the last few years. "I know, Mrs. Barba," Olivia said, looking past the door into Rafael's apartment. "I just... I'm worried is all. He hasn't been returning my messages."
"He hasn't been able to," she replied. "My poor Rafael has barely woken up since he came home." She smiled sadly. "The drugs they gave him in the hospital were absolutely brutal."
"Okay. Well, when he wakes up, just tell him Olivia wants him to call as soon as he can," Olivia said.
"Oh, so you're Olivia!" Isabel exclaimed, grinning now. "Rafael's told me so much about you."
"Oh?" Olivia asked, a little amused.
"Yeah. He told me a lot about how inspiring you are, how strong you have always been," she said softly.
Olivia looked at her, touched. "And here I was thinking he only cared about the cases," she murmured.
Isabel laughed. "Well, there's a person under that lawyer's skin somewhere!"
"I guess so," Olivia returned. "Well, see you later."
"Hopefully," Isabel replied, starting to close the door.
"Wait," an almost painfully weak voice called from behind Isabel. "Olivia?"
"Barba!" Olivia said, walking towards the door. Isabel looked between them for a moment before opening the door wide, allowing Olivia in. "How are you feeling? I mean..."
Rafael shrugged. "Like I'm supposed to, I think," he said, leaning against the wall heavily. He was dressed in a soft, dark red sweatshirt with black sweatpants, which only emphasized his pale skin. His eyes kept shutting- he was having trouble keeping them open. He looked like he could easily fall asleep standing up.
"You should lie down," Olivia said softly. "I'll go. I just wanted to check on you."
Rafael looked her over for a long moment. "No. Come here," he said, walking through a hallway. Olivia followed, and found herself in a large, comfortable living room. "Sit down," he said, gesturing to the empty chairs and sofas, minus the one he had obviously been occupying before. He sat down, propped up on a small stack of pillows, and pulled a blanket over himself.
"So... how are you?" he asked, voice slightly stronger now that he was sitting down.
Olivia hesitated, carefully going over the wording in her mind. She wanted to tell Rafael how worried she'd been, but without making him feel bad, or like he was being pitied.
"I... I'm glad you're... mostly okay," she said at last. "I thought something might have gone wrong."
Rafael regarded her curiously for a long moment, but couldn't seem to come up with a reply.
"I c-can't d-do this anym-m-ore," Rafael whimpered against Olivia's neck, body shaking. He'd just tried to take his next round of pills, only to struggle with a coughing fit that made him vomit onto the bedspread. Olivia had hurried to change it and ease Rafael down, and now she held him as he cried, from the humiliation, the fear, and the pain that was spiking again.
"Doctor Tompkins says she'll swing by today," Olivia murmured into Rafael's hair, rubbing his back and shoulders. "She said she can get all your meds in IV form. No more pills. No more, I promise."
"It's n-n-not j-just th-that!" Rafael sobbed. Olivia felt the tears hitting her neck and she swallowed hard, struggling not to break down herself. The sound of Rafael Barba, of all people, crying like this was one of the most heartbreaking sounds she'd ever heard. "It h-h-hurts, Liv!" he cried. "It j-just w-won't s-stop!"
"Tompkins said she might look into different treatments," Olivia said, voice wavering a little. "She's going to look over your regimen and see if there's anything else that can help. She might try what's called a nerve block."
"H-how much l-longer?" Rafael whimpered, and Olivia had a sinking feeling that he wasn't just referring to the doctor arriving.
"Soon," she whispered, throat tight. "It'll be better soon, I promise."
But you won't... she thought in despair, biting her lip.
Rafael kept grabbing his hat as though considering whether to remove it. He would have to, once returned to the courthouse tomorrow, but for now...
He didn't know what was worse. He wasn't much of a hat person, but it was better than what he'd look like without it. His face shape just didn't support baldness. And the hat mostly kept his face hidden, which for the first time in his life, he desired.
"Rafael," Olivia said, grabbing his hand.
Rafael looked at her, stunned. "I don't think you've ever called me by my first name before," he said.
"Well..." Olivia said slowly. "I guess I just felt like I should."
"I'm not complaining... Olivia," he said. He tried to smile, but found that he couldn't.
"You'd better not," Olivia said lightly. And though she did manage to smile, it faded quickly once she saw him fiddling with his hat again. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd feel better if you got out."
"I have to get used to it sooner or later," Rafael argued. "I won't exactly look the part of the intimidating ADA for a long time. I may as well figure out what works best."
"Do you feel up to walking?" Olivia asked. Rafael thought for a few seconds, and then nodded, standing from the bench they'd been sitting at. Despite everything, he still loved Central Park in autumn, with the smells of grass and flowers that would only stay for so long, and the almost spearmint-like spice of the leaves on the ground.
Somehow, during the walk, he and Olivia ended up holding hands. He wasn't sure how it happened, who had made the first move- if any of them had- or how long they had been before he noticed. It just felt so natural, so right, that he hadn't noticed until now.
He gazed down at their joined hands, and then back at Olivia's face. She smiled, almost... shy, like she wanted to see what he would do.
He thought.
And then he squeezed her hand, smiling back at her, and started walking again. Olivia laced their fingers together, and Rafael decided that he could stay here with her all day... hat be damned.
Rafael whispered something Olivia couldn't make out, legs kicking again. He always either slept so deeply that he was practically unconscious, or fitfully; there was no in-between anymore.
She felt his forehead, frowning. His fever seemed to have gone up. She leaned forward and set her lips against the sweaty skin, confirming her suspicions. Doctor Tompkins had talked about having Rafael hospitalized if his fever went about 104 degrees, but Rafael had protested against it, saying there wasn't much point, not now, and that when his inevitable death happened, he wanted it to be in the comfort of his own apartment with Olivia at his side, not in an impersonal hospital room. He'd be gone by the next week, and whether his death was from pneumonia or the cancer itself didn't make a difference to him, as long as they got the pain under control.
"I get it, Liv," Brian told her, voice quiet but rough. "It was always temporary between you and I."
"What?" Olivia asked, gaping at him. "No it wasn't!"
"Yeah, Liv, it was," Brian said shortly. "I don't see us sitting in some retirement home together thirty or forty years from now."
Olivia opened her mouth, then closed it, fuming. She wasn't sure why she was angry, exactly. Here she was breaking up with Brian after two years, and she was the one feeling insulted.
She traced over the fabric of her sofa with one finger. "I didn't see it as temporary," she said.
"I know. I didn't either, at first. But... some things never really change," he said, shrugging. "I'm not the same guy I was 15 years ago, but our personalities still don't fit. Never will. I'm not the man you deserve, Olivia, and I'm never gonna be him."
"You are," Olivia protested, wondering why she was trying so hard to argue this. She was trying to end the relationship, wasn't she?
"No, Olivia, I'm not. See you later. I'll get my things in a few days," Brian said. Before Olivia could protest, he was already closing the door. Closing it, not slamming it, which was a relief, in a strange way.
"Please, hurry!" Olivia bawled into the phone. "He just almost passed out, he's in so much pain!"
"Olivia," Doctor Raquel Tompkins said, in that soothing voice that only doctors who had regularly dealt with frantic people for decades had perfected, "Take a deep breath." She waited to hear Olivia's breathing, then continued, "Now count to ten for me."
"One... two... three..." Olivia began. Her breathing calmed as she finally reached ten.
"I'm already on my way, I promise," Doctor Tompkins said. "I know it's incredibly upsetting to see a loved one in so much pain, but you have to stay calm for him. Stress is contagious; you know that." Despite the words, which should have sounded scolding, they were nothing but encouraging. "Try to comfort him as much as you can. Keep him breathing normally, and talking if he can manage it. Sing to him or play some music, put on a movie to distract him from the pain- whatever works."
"Okay," Olivia breathed.
"I'll be there soon," Doctor Tompkins repeated. "Do you want me to stay on the line until I'm close?"
"No, I got it," Olivia said, feeling some of her resolve return. "Thanks."
They ended the call, and Olivia went back to the bedroom, steadying herself at the doorway before entering. "She's on her way, I promise," she said, walking to the bed. Rafael groaned pitifully, sounding both relieved and distressed. And pained, as always.
Olivia sat down next to him, resting her mouth against his ear, one arm around his waist and the other stroking his hair. She tried to think of a song to sing to him. The only time Rafael had asked before, she had only made him feel worse. It had been six months- half a year! Olivia thought, shocked- ago, and he'd been lying in bed, almost too weak to hold his own head up due to the extreme, last-resort treatment. Absolutely miserable and uncaring how vulnerable it made him sound- because he was- he had asked her to sing something, anything for him. And Olivia, feeling put on the spot, had sung the first thing that came to her mind... which happened to be You Are My Sunshine, and she had inserted Rafael's name into the song without thinking. And the last line, when she reached it, had made them both pause, look at each other with terrified eyes, and then fall silent.
After some thinking, she started singing Elvis songs. She wasn't his biggest fan, but it was light and cheery and fun. Rafael was smiling softly, laughing every now and again when she sang Hound Dog or Devil in Disguise.
"Sophia used to always listen to his CDs when we were growing up," Rafael whispered. "Mama always used to love it, that at least one of us kids still appreciated him. And Papa, he'd always talk about how he used to play guitar and he wished he could show us. And I always told him that one day, when I was a big successful lawyer, that the first thing I'd do when I got enough money was get him the best guitar in the world." He bit his lip. "I wish you could have met him. He would have loved you."
"He sounds like he was an amazing man," Olivia said softly. Rafael's father had died while Rafael was in law school. Some congenital heart condition no one had known he had, that had caused him to die suddenly from an arrhythmia in his sleep.
He'd always been so proud of his soon-to-be-a-lawyer son, had bragged to everyone who would listen that his son had made it into Harvard, and had gotten a scholarship at that. Rafael had told Olivia one day that it was only that that stopped him from letting the grief affect his grades.
"Sing some more," Rafael whispered, grabbing her hand where it rested on his stomach. "You have such a pretty voice."
"Flattery will get you anywhere," Olivia said, laughing softly into his ear.
"If I'd known that, I would have tried giving you compliments years ago," Rafael said, giving a soft laugh of his own. But the air caught in his lungs and he started coughing again, twisting in pain even after the fit ended.
"Li-i-i-i-iv!" he wailed helplessly.
"Shhhh," Olivia said, fighting back tears and holding him tight. "Just relax. She's almost here, I know she is."
"God damn it!"Rafael screamed, clenching his fists in the blanket. "God, please, just!-"
He went limp under Olivia's hands.
"No," Olivia whispered, terrified, holding her breath as she set two fingers on his neck.
She exhaled sharply, feeling a steady pulse under her fingertips, even if it was weak, thready, and fast.
How much longer would it stay there?
Did she even want it there, when every time his heart beat, it tethered him to another second of anguish?
"You don't want me," Rafael said, sitting up in the hospital bed.
"What do you mean?" Olivia asked incredulously.
"You... you have Cassidy," Rafael said, looking pained at the thought. "And you're happy with him. You don't need me."
"I broke up with Cassidy," Olivia retorted. "And this isn't about who I need and you know it."
Rafael averted his gaze, but then he looked back at her and held his hand out.
Olivia took it, gently stroking around the tape that held the IV in place.
"You'll... you'll stay with me?" Rafael asked.
Olivia nodded. And then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Rafael's, initiating their first kiss, chaste though it was.
"Thanks for doing that," he said dryly as Olivia pulled away. "You won't want to later."
"So I don't need to think of an excuse not to kiss you," Olivia quipped.
"Wait a few days and you'll be looking for an excuse to never stop kissing me," Rafael returned, smirking. "I'm told I'm quite good at it."
"Yeah, if I'd spent as much time kissing mirrors as you, I'd probably be able to say that too," Olivia teased.
"Mirrors can't talk," Rafael said.
"Looks like I lose, then," Olivia said with an exaggerated sigh. "Guess I have to admit you're a good kisser after all."
"Why don't you see for yourself?" Rafael asked.
"Hmm, I guess I might," Olivia said, leaning forward.
When they pulled away a minute later, Rafael looked happier than Olivia had ever seen him.
"Come on, come on, hurry up," Olivia almost moaned, looking at the door, waiting for a knock to sound through the apartment.
A faint groan turned her attention back to Rafael. "I know," she said, stroking his hot forehead. "You're so strong, Rafael, so strong. Just hold on."
"Merry Christmas," Olivia said, kissing Rafael's cheek.
"Merry Christmas," he replied, kissing her cheek in turn. Rafael had a thing about not kissing fully until he'd brushed his teeth.
They got ready and then drove to Rafael's mother's house, ready for a refreshingly happy day. Olivia didn't often get to spend the day with anyone but a small group of friends, and Rafael was just glad to be with them.
They spent the day playing with Rafael's nieces and nephews, watching them unwrap presents and play with their new toys, games, and books. The youngest, two-year-old Annabel, kept trying to put the ribbon from one of her presents on Rafael's head. Olivia immediately whipped her iPhone out and took a picture at that, vowing that she'd never let him live it down.
Rafael was tuckered out by dinner, resting his head on one hand and fighting to keep his eyes open as he ate. Olivia kept nudging him awake, but it didn't help.
Isabel, who was seated on his other side, finally sighed. Leaning over to Rafael, she murmured, "Rafael, my love, go lie down. I'll make sure to save enough food for you, and I'll make sure everyone down here stays quiet."
"Okay, Mama," Rafael said thickly. "Thank you."
He looked up and smiled sadly. "See you later, guys," he said to everyone at the table.
"Nighnight, Raf'el!" Annabel said, waving.
Rafael smiled at her and then stood, leaning into Olivia as she lent him her support. "I didn't think... I'd be this tired..." he said once they were out of earshot.
"You just had chemo last week," Olivia argued. "And you were up late at Mass last night."
Olivia helped him lie down in the guest room, sliding his shoes off and setting them beside the bed. Rafael smiled at her, looking touched.
"Olivia?" he called as Olivia started to exit the room.
"Yeah?" she said, turning back to him.
"I..." He took in a slow breath. "I love you. You know that, right?"
They had been together for a few months, and it was the first time either of them had said those words to the other. Olivia returned to the bed and kissed him gently. "I love you too, Rafael," she murmured.
"Liv..." Rafael croaked, turning his head to look at her.
"Shh," Olivia soothed. "Doctor Tompkins is here now."
Rafael's muscles relaxed, the relief clear in his eyes.
"Hey there, Rafael," Doctor Tompkins said, pulling some equipment into the room. A portable IV pole, an oxygen canister, a medical bag. "Olivia tells me the breakthrough pain's been getting worse?"
"Yeah," he said, squeezing Olivia's hand. "It's..." He struggled to articulate it, "It's like the last few hours have been worse than every other pain I've ever felt combined."
"Anything make it better, besides the fentanyl, and does anything make it worse?" the doctor asked.
"Nothing, besides breathing too deep making it worse," Rafael replied, closing his eyes. He started coughing again, squeezing the life out of Olivia's hand.
"Well, hopefully this will help the pain, and maybe the coughing too," Doctor Tompkins said. "At the very least, it should help you breathe easier." Suddenly remembering that Rafael's vision had been decreasing, she said, "I have an IV and some portable oxygen ready for you."
"Oh," Rafael said. He looked more scared than anything, as though the medical equipment confirmed just how close to death he was.
"I promise, you'll feel better once we get this set up," she promised.
Rafael nodded and held his other hand out, letting Olivia take it as well.
"Detective Amaro," Rafael said, leaning against the table in the courtroom and feeling furious at himself for his weakness. He wasn't going to make a convincing argument when he could barely stand. "You..."
He set a hand to his temple, feeling his head pounding.
"Mister Barba?" Judge Donnelly asked.
"Can... the people request a short recess?" Rafael barely managed to whisper.
"Very well. We'll return tomorrow; we're adjourned," Donnelly said, and Rafael was overwhelmed with gratitude. He just had to go to his office and prepare a few more papers, and then he could go home and sleep.
He took a taxi back to One Hogan Place and trudged to his office. At first he planned to just get his papers and leave, but then he saw his big, leather sofa, and he couldn't resist the need to lay down. He grabbed his coat and pulled it around him like a blanket, and he fell asleep within minutes.
Olivia found him just like that, sleeping deeply, when she came by hours later.
"Rafael," she called, shaking his shoulder. "Can you wake up?"
"Hmmm," Rafael hummed, opening his eyes.
"Feeling up to dinner?" Olivia asked. Rafael shook his head. "I thought not. We'll order in, and go out another night, when you feel better," Olivia said softly.
The words made Rafael feel awful. "I'm so sorry, Olivia," he said, heart aching with guilt.
"Don't worry about it. You can make it up to me later," Olivia said.
Rafael smiled faintly, but couldn't think of anything to add to that.
Doctor Tompkins swabbed the back of Rafael's hand with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, then placed the needle inside. Rafael flinched, but recovered quickly.
"You alright?" Olivia asked, even though the question only had one answer anymore.
Rafael nodded anyway, though, knowing what she meant.
"I didn't think," Rafael said, voice clipped, "That by the time I finally managed to take you out, I'd need a cane to walk." He glared at it, as though it was the embodiment of everything that was wrong with the world.
It was, sort of, for him. Rafael was a proud man, and nothing took a man's pride away like losing the ability to even walk unassisted.
He'd simply become too weak as the treatments continued, and needed something to support him as he walked. He'd also been suffering some headaches because of one of his drugs, and they were unpredictable, so it helped to have something he could latch on to if need be.
"I thought," Rafael said bitterly, "that I was going to..." He twisted the cane in his hands, "Hold the door open for you. Make you feel special. Loved," he said. "Show you that I can be more than a callous ass or a weakling."
"Would it be too cliché for me to tell you that I already do feel special, just because you're here?" Olivia asked him softly.
"Yes," Rafael said flatly.
Olivia sighed. "Let's just enjoy our dinner, Rafael," she said.
"You should start feeling pretty good in a few minutes," Doctor Tompkins said, setting the bags of medication up on the IV pole. "You'll also probably be pretty out of it for a while."
"That's fine," Rafael said, smiling at her. "Thank you."
"This surgery's the only option?" Olivia whispered, dismayed. Rafael had seemed to be getting better, but the treatments had just stopped working. He was back to wheezing after a brief trip across the room, sometimes even coughing up blood again. Now the doctors were going to remove a lobe of his lung, hoping that that would at least give him a chance.
"It's barely an option at all," Rafael said. "I have a 45% chance of surviving this surgery, Olivia."
"What happens if you don't do it?" Olivia asked.
"I'll live for a few months," Rafael said simply. "Maybe a year." He looked away for a moment. "I'm going to try the surgery. At least then... if they can't save me, it'll be quick. But..."
"But?" Olivia prompted.
"But," Rafael repeated, and then he said two words Olivia never thought she'd hear from Rafael Barba.
"I'm afraid."
"Quite a fever you got goin' there," Doctor Tompkins said, taking the thermometer from Rafael's hands. "104! How long has it been that high?"
Rafael looked at Olivia questioningly, and she said, "Since this morning."
"Well, we'll see about getting you a fever reducer," the doctor said. "How's that sound?"
"Good," Rafael said, smiling weakly.
"You're going to make it through, Rafael. I know you will," Olivia said, cupping Rafael's face in her hands. "You're tough."
"Yeah, and what's in me is pretty tough too," Rafael retorted.
Olivia shook her head. "Maybe so, but you're stronger. The guy who let a perp strangle him in open court isn't going to take it lying down like this."
Rafael pulled her hands off his face and instead leaned forward, kissing her.
"Mr. Barba? It's time to bring you to the O.R.," a nurse said, entering the room.
"Olivia..." Rafael said, grabbing her wrist. "I... if..."
"I love you," Olivia said, embracing him. "And I'll see you soon. I promise."
And she was right. Five hours later, Olivia was in Rafael's room in the ICU, looking down at him and almost unable to believe that the surgery had worked, almost unable to believe that he was coming home in a few weeks.
"You've been through so much," she whispered to the sleeping man, caressing his cheek. "Hopefully that's finally over, and you can be your sarcastic self again. I'm missing your sass right about now."
"That should do it," Doctor Thompkins said, securing an oxygen mask over Rafael's face. "How does that feel?"
"Good," Rafael whispered, taking a few deep breaths. "I'd almost forgotten..." He smiled sadly, "What it felt like to have enough air. And... not to be hurting so much that I want to scream."
Olivia bit her lip, but stayed quiet, not sure what one was supposed say to something like that.
"I don't feel right," Rafael said, biting his lip.
"How so?" Olivia asked worriedly.
"I don't know. I just keep... something's not right," he said, shaking his head.
"Like when you were sick?" Olivia asked.
"No," Rafael said. "I just... I keep feeling like something's wrong with me."
"Well, you're due for a follow-up anyway," Olivia said softly. "Let's schedule an appointment."
Rafael nodded. "Yeah, let's."
A week later, they were in an examination room, and Rafael was shaking as he told the doctor what he'd been feeling.
"'Doesn't feel right' isn't much to go on," she said slowly. "But it's better safe than sorry. We'll get a few tests done."
"Don't..." Rafael started, then trailed off. He clenched his hands, steeled himself, and then said, "Don't tell me what... I mean, if you find something and you can treat it, tell me, but if you can't, just say you found nothing anyway," Rafael practically begged.
Olivia looked at him, shocked. That didn't sound one bit like the man she knew, like the man who had been slowly coming back since his cancer had been in remission.
Doctor Tompkins looked at him for a while, frowning. "I'm not supposed to agree to something like that," she said. "But, I'll consider it if you tell me why."
"I... I just... if there is something there, I'd rather not know," he said. "Unless you can treat it."
"Alright," she said, backing off. "If it comes to that, I'll only tell Olivia."
"Hey, where're you goin'?" Rafael slurred.
"Nowhere," Olivia promised him. "Just getting comfortable."
"'Kay," Rafael said, closing his eyes.
"I'll be here when you wake up," Olivia said. If you wake up.
"Rafael, you really are fine," Olivia said, setting her hand on Rafael's shoulder. "She didn't just tell you that. She really didn't find anything. It didn't come back, I promise."
"Then why do I feel so awful?!" Rafael cried, burying his face in his hands.
Olivia recoiled, caught off-guard. "How," she stammered, "How do you mean?"
"I feel like there's a black cloud over me!" he said, voice muffled. "I feel like every day, my body is screaming at me that something's wrong, that I'm still dying and I just don't know it!" He blinked rapidly, trying- and failing- to stop tears from falling down his face. This was the first time Olivia had ever seen him break, and that hurt just as much as what he was saying. "Every time I cough, every time I sneeze, I start shaking! I keep making myself cough, just to make sure I don't lose control and start coughing up blood again! Sometimes I'm just standing in my office, and then I start to remember what the doctors told me, and then I get so terrified I can barely breathe! Ev-every night, I'm afraid to go to sleep because I think I won't wake up again, and when I do manage to fall asleep, I have nightmares about dying!"
And suddenly, everything about Rafael's behavior for the last few months made sense. He'd been quiet and withdrawn, tired during the day but unwilling to sleep at night. Easily startled, but desperate to hide it.
"Oh, Rafael..." Olivia whispered tearfully. "Why didn't you tell me before?" Rafael didn't say anything, just shrugged. "Have you... have you been seeing anyone to talk about this?"
"No," Rafael said, shaking his head.
"Why not?" Olivia asked.
"Because..." Rafael bit his lip. "Because I feel guilty for having issues like this. I should just be happy to be alive. But I'm not. I never feel happy anymore," he whispered.
"Rafael, that's... it's not right, but it's normal," Olivia said. She didn't have much experience with cancer patients, but she had seen enough to know how often they had trouble adjusting. "Didn't your doctor tell you that might happen, and what to do if it did?"
Rafael nodded, resting his forehead in his hand. He looked so broken and it made Olivia's heart ache. She wondered how she hadn't figured this out earlier.
Olivia wrapped her arms around him tightly, letting him hide his face in her neck. Everyone had a breaking point, even someone as stoic as Rafael.
"It'll be okay," she whispered into his hair. "We'll figure this out, you and me."
Rafael sounded so peaceful, soft whistling noises escaping him with each breath, face relaxed for the first time in days. Olivia ran her hands up his now-bony arm, more thankful than she could express that finally, something had eased Rafael's pain.
Now to see if it lasted.
"Olivia! Nice to hear from you!"
Olivia could almost hear the smile in George's voice as he greeted her over the phone.
"You too," Olivia said, switching the phone to her other ear. "How are you?"
"Hold on," George said. Olivia heard him talking softly to someone, then he came back on. "Sorry, Adam was-"
"Who?" Olivia asked.
"Oh," George said, a little sheepish. "Adam, well, Adam's my boyfriend. Fiancee, actually."
"You got engaged without telling me?" Olivia asked in mock outrage.
George chuckled. "Maybe if you'd answer the phone once in a while, you wouldn't be left out."
"Yeah, sure. See if I care about Mister Cowboy," Olivia said.
"Believe it or not, there are actually people in Oklahoma who aren't cowboys. Me, for instance," George said, and once again, Olivia could hear him smirking.
Olivia kept the conversation up as long as she could, but the time on her lunch break was starting to run out and she had to cut to the chase. "So, George, I need to ask you for a recommendation," Olivia said.
"Go ahead," George replied.
"Well..." she paused, trying to decide where to begin. "I have a boyfriend too," she began. "And he's been sick for a while. Lung cancer. They had to do a lobectomy, but he's been in remission for a while. But... he's having trouble adjusting. Honestly, some of the things he told me he's been experiencing remind of me of the PTSD I see from victims. Nightmares, being unable to stop thinking about it..."
"It's possible that that's just it," George informed her. "Most people think PTSD only comes from physical trauma, like being raped or shot, or possibly from witnessing those things. But all that's actually required is being in a dangerous situation that involves feelings of fear or helplessness. A life-threatening illness can traumatize as easily as being shot. It sounds like he came very close to dying."
"Yeah, he did," Olivia agreed, cringing as she remembered Rafael's extreme weakness as they tried an intense chemotherapy regimen in a last-ditch attempt to treat him without surgery. He hadn't even been able to eat by himself, had needed Olivia to help him with every meal. He'd been too weak to care, but once his strength had returned, had felt humiliated.
"There you go. His life was in danger, and there was nothing he could do to fight back. The cancer may as well have been a man in a ski mask, holding a gun to his head," George said. "Without assessing him directly, I can't say for sure whether he has PTSD or another anxiety disorder and possible adjustment disorder, but in either case, I would agree that he should see someone. An old friend of mine may be good with him, or she can at least refer him elsewhere. Give me a minutes to find her number," George said.
"Okay," Olivia replied. After a while, George returned, and read off a name and number.
"Thank you so much, George," Olivia said.
"Any time, Olivia," George said before hanging up.
"You look tired, Liv. Come to bed," Rafael said, patting the space beside him.
"You sure?" Olivia asked. Rafael nodded silently, then started rubbing the back of his hand. "Is the IV bugging you?" Olivia asked.
"No," Rafael said. "Just feels... different."
"Okay. Give me a minute to change and I'll lay with you," Olivia said, standing.
Rafael was sitting in the kitchen, drinking a small glass of scotch. He was starting to adjust, slowly, starting to make peace with the fact that yes, the cancer could come back at any time, but knowing that it didn't have to control his life.
He'd started to go out with his friends and family again, had started showing his confidence in the courtroom, backsassing his opponents like he used to. And, most importantly, he'd started going out with Olivia whenever he could. Looking back on it, he wasn't sure he would have survived if not for her strength. That was who Olivia was- whether a victim or a friend, she was always giving them the strength they needed, even when she herself was hurting.
The strange thing was that he had known that even before getting sick, and had told his mother as much whenever they talked. And Olivia had only proven it after they'd gotten together.
Just last night, he had told his mom how happy Olivia made him feel, that he had realized how much he truly loved her. He wasn't one to say things like that lightly, and she knew it. She'd told him how happy she was for him, how she hoped Olivia would be part of the family someday.
He hoped she would, too. He wasn't sure how Olivia felt about changing names, but 'Olivia Barba' did have a nice ring to it.
He knew he couldn't do this spur of the moment, had to plan it all carefully. But he was as sure as he was about anything that he loved Olivia and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
He wouldn't have expected that to happen even once he'd gotten to know her, but here he was.
And then, as though he was receiving some kind of judgment from God himself, the pain in his chest returned. He froze and took a deep breath, trying to see if it would go away.
He started to cough. Dread coiling in his stomach, he held a hand up to his mouth. It came away wet, with a dark red stain.
"No," he moaned, shaking his head, "No no no no no, oh God please no..."
Rafael stroked Olivia's cheek, watching her intently. He leaned forward, lifting the mask to kiss her lips. "Am I still a good kisser?" he asked.
"Very," Olivia replied, resting her head on his shoulder. He liked when she did that; it let him feel strong, like he could still take care of other people.
He ran his fingers through her hair, but had to stop quickly once his arm started feeling numb. He sighed dejectedly.
It was the little things that ended up reminding them of just how merciless this situation was.
Olivia came home with a bag of groceries. "I'm home!" she called, only to be greeted with silence. She frowned, setting the bag on the coffee table and walking to the balcony just outside of the living room.
Rafael was there, drinking scotch straight out of a bottle with a look of pure defeat on his face.
"Rafael, what's wrong?" Olivia asked, voice wavering.
He looked at her, eyes hollow. "It's back," he said flatly. "I noticed a few days ago. Got the test results confirming it today. And it's not going away this time."
Olivia set one hand on the railing, swallowing hard. "Are you..." she whispered, but couldn't get the words to form beyond that.
Rafael knew, though, and said, "Yes."
"How long?" Olivia asked, crestfallen.
"If I try the chemo and radiation again... a year, maybe two. If not, more on the order of six months," Rafael said.
"I... Rafael..." Olivia stammered. She walked to him, hugged him so tightly it almost hurt. "I'm so, so sorry," she said, tears falling down her face.
"I am too," Rafael said, squeezing her back.
Olivia woke a few hours later, feeling refreshed. She immediately reached out for Rafael, felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, and only then did she let herself relax.
"Hey," she said, jogging his shoulder.
"Huh?" Rafael said, opening his eyes lazily.
"You hungry?" she said, though she suspected he would answer no, like he had done for the last few days. He would only eat once a day, and even then, Olivia had to coax him.
"I guess I could eat. What do you have in mind?" Rafael said instead, surprising her.
"What sounds good to you?" Olivia asked. Rafael actually being in the mood to eat was so rare that she'd get him almost anything in the world at this point.
"You'll laugh," he said slowly. "But... ice cream sounds nice about now."
"You obviously know nothing about women if you think I'd laugh at that," Olivia said. "We can make entire meals of nothing but ice cream."
Rafael chuckled softly. "Make me an honorary woman, then," he said, smiling. He coughed, and though he still struggled to catch his breath and some flecks of blood caught in the mask, he didn't seem to be feeling that much pain.
"I'll have to see about that," Olivia said, pushing off the bed and standing. "Be back in a minute."
She got everything together in the kitchen, pleased to find that they had a mostly-full container of mint chocolate chip ice cream. It was Rafael's favorite.
She brought back the container and two spoons, sliding onto the bed next to him. He looked so happy to see what the flavor was that Olivia wasn't sure whether to smile in return, or to laugh. Or maybe to cry.
Olivia gently pulled Rafael's oxygen mask off, letting him adjust to the regular air, and then handed him a spoon.
They ate for a while, scolding each other for trying to take too many chocolate chunks, 'accidentally' bumping their spoons together. When Rafael had had his fill he put the mask back on and leaned back, sighing softly. "That felt good."
"Yeah," Olivia agreed, curling up against him and lifting the mask for one more moment kissing his ice-cream-cooled lips. "That did."
"I'm sorry," Rafael sobbed. "I wanted..."
"You wanted what, Rafael?" Olivia asked, stroking Rafael's neck. Some part of her could barely believe this was the man who had once delighted in tearing down scumbags in court.
"I wanted to make you happy,"he said brokenly. "I h-had it all planned out..." Tears were streaming down his face. Olivia leaned forward, brushed them away with her thumb. "I th-thought we were going to be happy together once I got the anxiety under control..."
Olivia held him, let him get it all out. She inhaled slowly and whispered, "I don't want you to go. I would be happier with you here. But, Rafael-" she leaned forward and kissed him- "Even if you are..." She finally forced herself to say the word aloud and make it real, "Dying, you make me happy. You make me happier than anyone has in a long time."
"So once I die, I'm going to make you more miserable than anyone has in a long time," Rafael lamented.
"Maybe," Olivia agreed. "But... it's because I love you. And there's no reason to feel guilty about it."
"Olivia?" Rafael said.
"Yeah?" she replied, brushing her forehead against his cheek.
"You still have Father Samuel's number, right?" Rafael asked.
"Do you need me to call him?" Olivia asked, getting ready to grab her cell phone.
"No," Rafael said, biting his lip. "I just... make sure he knows to be ready to come out. I don't think I have..." He trailed off. "Tomorrow, or the next day, maybe. I just... I keep feeling something changing," he admitted. "Like... like something's pulling me. Not physically, either."
Olivia wrapped her arms around him, the words burning like putting salt on a gunshot wound. "He'll be ready. I promise," Olivia said, ignoring the rest of what Rafael had said. She'd been talking to a therapist for months, about acceptance, about letting go, about anticipatory grief, but none of it prepared her for the possibility of actually saying goodbye.
"Stay with me," Rafael whispered, returning her embrace.
"You know I will," Olivia said. There was another thing she hadn't gotten used to- the raw vulnerability.
Rafael closed his eyes for a moment, and then whispered, "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too," Olivia said, fighting not to cry.
"I don't... I don't want to go," Rafael confessed.
"I know. I don't want you to either," Olivia said, feeling that pricking sensation in her eyes that told her she wouldn't be able to stay strong for much longer. "But..." Silence fell for a long moment. "But, you... you won't hurt anymore," she whispered.
Rafael set a hand on her cheek. "I want it to stop..." he said. "But... I don't want to lose you. Or you to lose me."
Olivia stayed quiet, offering him comfort with kisses and embraces instead.
"I love you," Olivia whispered, seeing Rafael's eyes close.
"I love you too, Liv," Rafael whispered. "Always."
The next day, Rafael woke only to receive his Last Rites from Father Samuel. Olivia held his hand throughout, wanting to scream, "stop", wanting to find whatever God they were praying to and demand he show Rafael some fairness for once. She'd never understood the Catholic thing, had never understood how anyone could believe in God seeing what they did on a regular basis. This just proved it.
But it was important to Rafael, so she held her tongue. She thanked Father Samuel for coming out, and turned to Rafael, who looked... not better, just more relaxed than he had been before the priest had arrived.
Olivia held him again, and Rafael held on to her, fighting for as long as he could, the last remnants of his former strength.
But eventually, he fell asleep again, resting peacefully in Olivia's arms.
He didn't wake up.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Fading Away