The morning air in Manhattan was colder than usual as I walked into the SVU precinct, the air heavy with anticipation and nerves. I was the new detective in the Manhattan Special Victims Unit, fresh from years as an undercover. While my experience was extensive, SVU was different—a world where emotions often ran deep and dark, a world that required a careful balance of grit and empathy.
I had only been paired with Joe Velasco for a few days, but I was already grateful for his calm and steady presence. Today, we were handed a case that made my heart sink. It was a child abuse case, and the details of the report dredged up memories I'd spent years trying to bury. I tried to steady my mind, focusing on the facts, not my emotions, as we left the precinct.
Velasco and I tracked the suspect to an old building in Harlem. The arrest should have been standard, but as soon as I saw the man—the way he sneered, the casual look of contempt—I felt something crack inside me. He didn't know who I was or what I had endured, but his face might as well have been a mirror of the monsters I had encountered years ago.
When Velasco began to cuff him, the suspect laughed, saying something crude and dismissive. Before I knew it, I was yelling, my words filled with a raw, burning rage. The suspect flinched but kept smirking, only fueling my anger. Velasco put a gentle hand on my shoulder, but it barely registered. I could feel my past flooding back, threatening to overwhelm me. Fin stepped in, smoothly taking over the arrest as Velasco subtly guided me outside.
I stormed down the block, needing air, needing space. My feet led me to a quiet stone staircase tucked beside a building. I sat down heavily, my hands trembling. I'd thought I had control over my past. But now, in the face of this case, the carefully constructed walls I had built felt paper-thin.
After a few minutes, I heard footsteps behind me. Velasco's voice was soft as he approached, his gaze full of concern and understanding. He sat down beside me without a word, just his presence grounding me, pulling me back from the edge. Slowly, he placed an arm around my shoulders, and I felt the warmth of his steadying strength.
The tears came quietly, slipping down my face in silence. I didn't fight them this time. I leaned into him, feeling the weight of everything I had carried pressing down, yet somehow, in that moment, lifted just a little.
Velasco stayed by my side, saying nothing, his arm a constant, solid reassurance. In his quiet way, he was telling me that I didn't have to face this alone, that whatever I'd been through, he had my back. And in the silence between us, I felt myself slowly coming back to center, ready to keep fighting—for this case, for justice, and for my own healing.
The city sounds faded as I sat there on the stone steps, sheltered in Velasco's quiet strength. For the first time in a long time, I let myself feel completely vulnerable. His arm around my shoulders was both a comfort and a reminder that I wasn't alone, no matter how dark my memories felt. I let my head rest against his chest, my breathing slowing with the calm reassurance he offered just by being there.
After a while, I heard footsteps behind us and looked up to see Fin approaching. His face softened when he saw me, his expression a mix of understanding and concern. His eyes met Velasco's, and he gave a slight nod, reading the situation instantly.
Velasco held up a hand, reassuring him. "I've got it under control, Fin. She's okay."
Fin looked back at me, his voice gentle but steady. "Listen, I'll let Captain Benson know what's going on. You don't need to worry about rushing back. Take all the time you need. Just come back to the precinct when you're ready."
The relief in his words settled something inside me. Fin knew better than anyone how these cases could reach into a person's past and stir up old wounds. It felt like he understood, maybe more than anyone.
"Thank you, Fin," I managed, my voice a little steadier now.
Velasco chimed in with a quiet "Thanks, man," giving him a grateful nod.
Fin gave me one more reassuring look before turning to head back to the precinct. I watched him go, his steady presence leaving behind a sense of calm and permission to take the time I needed.
As Velasco and I sat there in silence, I felt a wave of gratitude—not just for his support, but for this new team, this new family I was slowly becoming part of. Velasco gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze, and I leaned into him again, letting my guard down completely, knowing he was there to catch me if I fell.
