Rafael Barba X Reader - Blog Posts

Objection! Part 11

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

2.7k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The first night home should have been a comfort. The familiar scent of fresh laundry in my sheets, the quiet hum of the city outside my window, the distant sound of Sonny laughing at something on the TV in the living room. It should have felt safe. It should have felt like home.

But as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my body refused to relax. My muscles were coiled tight, every nerve on edge, like I was bracing for something to happen. Something I couldn’t name, something I couldn’t see—but I could feel it, waiting in the darkness, just beyond my reach.

Every time I closed my eyes, I felt it all over again. Hands grabbing me from behind. An arm locking around my waist. The press of rough fabric against my face. Then nothing. Just darkness swallowing me whole, dragging me under like deep water, stealing my breath, my thoughts, my sense of time. I’d wake with a start, heart hammering in my chest, breath shallow and ragged. My sheets tangled around me like restraints. My skin damp with sweat.

It happened again. And again.

I turned onto my side, curling in on myself, forcing my eyes shut. But the second I drifted too close to sleep, I was right back there. The fear hit me like a wave, cold and sudden, leaving me gasping for air as my eyes flew open.

The first time, I told myself it was nothing. Just a bad night.

The second time, I sat up and turned on the lamp, bathing the room in soft, warm light. Maybe that would help. Maybe I just needed to see my surroundings, to remind myself I was safe.

The third time, I pulled the blankets tighter around me, trying to convince myself that exhaustion would eventually win, that sleep would come whether I wanted it to or not.

The fourth time, Sonny cracked the door open. “You okay?” His voice was quiet, careful.

“Yeah,” I lied.

He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and let the door close again.

The fifth time, he came all the way inside. Sat on the edge of my bed, running a hand over his face. “You wanna talk about it?”

I shook my head.

He sighed. “All right. Try to get some rest.”

The sixth time, I didn’t even bother trying to sleep again. I just sat there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady tick of my bedside clock, the muffled city sounds outside my window. I felt like a ghost in my own body, like a piece of me was still trapped in that moment—caught between the before and the after, unable to move forward.

Then, Sonny came back. Again. This time, he didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t try to get me to talk. He just disappeared for a moment and came back with a pillow and a blanket.

“You’re not sleeping alone tonight,” he said simply, dropping the pillow onto the floor beside my bed. He stretched out on his back, arms resting behind his head like it was the most natural thing in the world. “If you need me, I’m right here.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him I was fine. That I didn’t need him hovering over me, treating me like I was about to break.

But the words stuck in my throat.

Instead, I let out a slow, shaky breath and turned onto my side, staring at the wall. Sonny being there didn’t erase the memories. It didn’t stop the fear from curling tight in my chest. But it was something. A small anchor keeping me tethered to the present, keeping me from drifting too far into the past.

Eventually, exhaustion won, and I fell asleep.

…

The next morning, my head was pounding, my limbs heavy as if my body had given up on trying to function properly. Sleep had come in short, restless bursts, each one stolen away by nightmares that left my heart racing and my throat dry. I felt like I had barely rested at all, but there was no time to dwell on it. There was a statement to give, and I needed to pull myself together.

A strong cup of coffee helped—not enough to erase the exhaustion clinging to my bones, but enough to give me a temporary jolt of energy. Sonny had been quiet all morning, watching me carefully, like he was waiting for me to break. His usual easygoing nature was buried beneath a thick layer of tension, his movements more deliberate, his shoulders tight. He wasn’t just my brother today. He was a cop. And he was worried.

The ride to the DA’s office was silent, the weight of everything sitting heavy between us. I kept my eyes on the city streets as they passed by, familiar yet distant, as if the world had moved on while I had been trapped in the darkness.

When we finally walked into Rafael’s office, he was already there, looking as polished as ever. Crisp suit, perfectly knotted tie, not a single wrinkle or strand of hair out of place. But the empty coffee cup on his desk told a different story. He had been here for a while. He was running on fumes, just like me.

Across from him sat a man I didn’t recognize.

He looked young, maybe around my age, though the seriousness in his expression made him seem older. Tall and athletic, dressed in a sharp but simple suit. His brunette hair was neatly styled, not a strand out of place, and his green eyes were sharp, studying me with quiet assessment as I entered the room. There was something steady about him, the kind of confidence that came from years of experience. He wasn’t intimidating, but he wasn’t exactly warm either.

Rafael stood, motioning between us. “Y/N, this is Peter Stone, the Assistant District Attorney handling the case.”

Peter stood as well, offering a polite but firm handshake. “It’s good to meet you, Y/N. I wish it were under better circumstances.”

His voice was smooth, professional, but there was a hint of something softer beneath it—understanding, maybe. He had probably dealt with enough victims to know how to handle this conversation.

I gave a small nod. “Yeah. Me too.”

Peter gestured to the chairs in front of Rafaels desk. “Take a seat.”

I swallowed hard, moving to sit down. Sonny remained standing beside me, arms crossed, his presence a silent reassurance. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Peter sat back down, his hands folded neatly on the desk. “Y/N, I know this isn’t easy. But I need you to walk me through what you remember. Anything you can tell me will help.”

I inhaled slowly, bracing myself. “I don’t remember much. Just…someone grabbing me. Then nothing. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital.”

Peter nodded, like he had expected that answer. “No memory of anything in between? No voices, sounds, flashes of anything?”

I shook my head. “No. Just…blackness.”

“All right.” He glanced at Rafael and Sonny. “I’ll need to speak with Y/N alone.”

Rafael frowned. “That’s not necessary—”

“It is,” Peter interrupted smoothly. His tone was firm but not unkind. “I need to get her statement without any outside influence, no matter how well-intentioned.” He met Rafael’s eyes for a long moment before turning to Sonny. “I understand wanting to be here for her. But this needs to be a private conversation.”

Sonny looked down at me, searching my face like he was trying to gauge whether I was okay with this.

I gave him a small nod. “It’s fine.”

His jaw tightened, but he nodded back. Rafael looked just as reluctant, but after a beat, he exhaled sharply and stood.

“We’ll be right outside,” he said, his voice low.

I nodded again, and they both stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind them.

Peter leaned forward slightly, his gaze focused. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

Peter studied me for a moment, his green eyes sharp but not unkind. He wasn’t treating me like a victim, at least not in the way most people had been since I woke up in the hospital. There was no pity in his gaze, just an unspoken expectation—he needed answers, and he was hoping I could give them to him.

"Let’s start from the beginning,” he said, his tone even. “You said the last thing you remember is someone grabbing you. Was that by Dominick’s car?”

I swallowed, forcing myself to think back. "I-I think so. Sonny was taking me to get a drink of water I think”

Peter nodded, jotting something down in his notebook. "And this was after the tunnels? Do you remember anything about them?"

I frowned, shaking my head. "I remember solving the clue. I remember heading into the tunnels with Nick but after that it’s all fragments”

His jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t look surprised. “There were no cameras in the tunnels, no traffic cams in the area where you were taken. Marco knew exactly what he was doing. He planned this.”

The weight of his words settled over me, making it harder to breathe. I clenched my hands together in my lap, trying to push away the creeping panic. “But why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why would he go through all this trouble for me?”

Peter leaned back slightly. “That’s what we need to figure out. Do you know Marco?”

“No.” I shook my head firmly. “I’ve never met him. I didn’t even know his name until I woke up and Sonny told me what happened.”

Peter studied me carefully, like he was looking for any hesitation, any sign that I wasn’t being completely truthful. When he found none, he exhaled and tapped his pen against the desk. “Marco has a history with Rafael. You know that much, right?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t explain why he targeted me.”

Peter tilted his head slightly. “Maybe not. But Rafael has a theory.”

I swallowed hard. “Which is?”

Peter hesitated, then leaned forward. “Marco doesn’t just go after people for the fun of it. He picks his targets carefully. When he hurts someone, it’s calculated. Intentional. And Rafael seems to think that Marco believes you…” He trailed off, choosing his words carefully. “…that you matter to him. That you and Rafael might be more than just colleagues. Enough that Marco saw you as leverage.”

My stomach twisted. “More than colleagues? Rafael and I? Why would he think that?”

Peter sighed. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

I stared at him, my mind spinning.

“Is there anything else you remember?” Peter asked, pulling me from my thoughts. “Even something small? A smell, a sound—anything?”

I opened my mouth, then hesitated. There was something. It wasn’t a memory, not exactly, but a feeling. The rough press of fabric against my face.

“There was something over my mouth,” I said slowly, trying to piece it together. “Like cloth. It smelled… chemical. Strong.”

Peter’s expression sharpened. “Chloroform?”

I nodded. “Maybe. I don’t know for sure, but it makes sense. I barely had time to react before everything went black.”

Peter jotted something down, then looked back up at me. “I’m going to make sure he pays for what he did to you.”

His words were meant to be reassuring, but all I felt was cold.

…

Rafael’s P.O.V

I straightened in my chair as Peter folded his hands on the desk. “Tell me about Marco.”

I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temple before answering. “I didn’t know him personally before all this.”

Peter studied me carefully. “But you knew his sister.”

My throat tightened. I leaned forward, my hands clasped together on the desk. “She was one of the first victims passed across my desk,” I said, my voice quieter now. “Smart, kind, and full of life. She met a man on one of those random dating apps and he took advantage of her.” I swallowed, forcing myself to continue. “She begged for months for me to put him away, but there just wasn’t enough evidence. I didn’t want to prosecute a case I knew I couldn’t win. So I turned her away.”

Peter remained silent, his expression unreadable.

“A week later, she jumped in front of a train in the subway.” My voice was hoarse now, raw. “Her brother, Marco, came begging me to charge the man who attacked Anya with her death as well, but again, it was a case I knew I couldn’t win. So I said no.”

Peter tapped his pen against the desk, thoughtful. “And Marco never forgot that.”

“No,” I said bitterly. “And he sure as hell never forgave it.”

Peter let out a slow breath. “So in his mind, this isn’t just about revenge—it’s about justice. His kind of justice.”

I gave a hollow laugh. “If you can call it that.”

Peter flipped to another page in his notes. “Let’s talk about the search for Y/N.”

I nodded, straightening. “It started the second we knew she was missing. We didn’t waste time—Olivia pulled in every resource she could. We had officers combing the last place she was seen, talking to witnesses, checking security footage.”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “And Marco? He left clues, didn’t he?”

My jaw tightened. “Yeah. He wanted us to play his game. Left us breadcrumbs, cryptic messages—like he was toying with us.” My hands clenched briefly before I forced myself to relax. “Every clue led us deeper, twisting the search into a maze.”

Peter leaned forward. “And you found her at Coney Island.”

I nodded. “Under the pier. He buried her in a pile of rocks, hidden just out of sight. If we’d been a few hours later, she might not have made it.”

Peter’s expression darkened. “She was unconscious?”

I swallowed. “Barely breathing.” My voice wavered for a split second before I steadied it. “She’d been out there for hours. The tide was coming in.”

Peter sat back, exhaling slowly. “You spoke to a lot of people during the search.” He slid a list across the desk. “These are the ones I need to follow up with.”

I glanced at it before pushing it back. “Olivia and Sonny are already on it.”

A tense silence settled over the room before I spoke again. “There’s something else.” My voice was quieter now, careful.

Peter set his pen down, giving me his full attention. “Go on.”

My hands folded together on the desk. “Do my feelings for Y/N have to come up in court?”

Peter didn’t look surprised. “It’s relevant, Rafael. It goes to motive.”

I looked down, jaw tightening. “Does she have to know?”

Peter hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “She won’t be in the courtroom when you take the stand. But yes, it’s going to come up. I’ve already asked her she was aware that Marco took her because he thought there was something between you”

“And how did she react?” I asked tensing up.

“Honestly, she was confused as to why he would think that. If I was you Rafael I would consider being honest with her before it comes out at trail and she hears it from someone other than you”

I closed my eyes briefly before exhaling. “Do I need to tell Jack?”

Peter leaned back in his chair, considering. “It’s your call. But if I were you, I’d get ahead of it.”

…

Later that evening, I stood in Jack McCoy’s office, his hands resting on the edge of his desk. Jack regarded me with his usual measured expression, waiting.

I took a breath. “It’s about Y/N.”

Jack didn’t react. “Go on.”

“There’s a chance my feelings for her are going to come up in court.” I said bluntly.

Jack studied me carefully. “And are those feelings something I need to be concerned about?”

I shook my head. “No. I would never pursue anything with her. She’s worked too hard to get where she is. I won’t risk her career over this.”

Jack nodded slowly. “Then it’s none of my business.”

Relief washed over me, but it was fleeting. This wasn’t just about the case. It wasn’t just about my career or hers. It was about the way my heart had clenched when I saw her in that hospital bed. About the way I had cleaned her room, taking care with every little detail, as if that could undo the damage that had been done.

It was about the realization that I had been in love with her for a long time.

And that there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight @chriskevinevans @svzwriting29

Objection!

I did have a song but I can't for the life of me remember what it was so I'm starting from scratch. I don't want to give too much away as to what I'm using the song for but please throw me your suggestions.

Objection! Part 10

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

4.7k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the dim hospital room. I sat still, my fingers laced together, resting on my lap. The chair was stiff and uncomfortable, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t leaving. Not now. Not until she woke up.

Y/N looked so small in the hospital bed, her face pale against the stark white sheets. I had braced myself for bruises, for some visible proof of the nightmare she had been through, but there was nothing—just the eerie stillness that came from the drugs still lingering in her system. The doctors had assured us she would wake up soon, but every passing minute felt like an eternity.

Sonny had been the one asking the doctors all the right questions, demanding more when vague reassurances weren’t enough. I had stayed quiet, letting him take the lead. It wasn’t my place to interfere. I had no right to claim any authority over her—not in Sonny’s eyes, not even in my own. It was enough that he had let me stay.

Olivia had come and gone, updating us on Marco’s arrest. He was locked away in Attica with no bail. That should have given me some peace, but then she mentioned Jack McCoy bringing in Peter Stone to handle the case. Anger had flared in my chest at the thought of being sidelined, but Olivia had shut it down quickly. You’re too close to this, Rafael. You were his main target, he used her to get to you. And deep down, I knew she was right.

Now, the room was silent again. Visiting hours had passed, and Sonny had reluctantly gone home to shower and eat. He had promised to be back soon, but I barely registered his departure.

Alone with Y/N, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the edge of her bed. My eyes traced every familiar feature—the curve of her lips, the way her eyelashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks, the steady rise and fall of her chest.

I swallowed hard, gripping the blanket as I exhaled shakily. “You scared the hell out of me,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

She didn’t stir.

A humourless chuckle escaped me as I ran a tired hand down my face. “I should have told you,” I said, my voice rough with exhaustion. “I should have told you a long time ago. But I was a coward. I told myself it was better this way—that you deserved something simple, someone who wouldn’t complicate your life. Dios soy un idiota” (God I’m an idiot)

I shook my head, my jaw tightening. “But I love you.” The words felt heavy, like they had been waiting too long to be spoken. “I have for a long time. And I will protect you, from this day forward, even if you never hear me say this.”

Hesitantly, I reached out, letting my fingers brush over the back of her hand. She was warm. Alive. And that was the only thing that mattered.

I stayed like that, my hand resting over hers, as the hours stretched on.

Sonny was so quiet when he came back that his voice startled me, making me jerk back from Y/N’s bedside like a guilty teenager caught sneaking out. My heart pounded as I turned toward him, but there was no anger on his face, no judgment. Just quiet understanding.

He sighed, settling back into the chair across from me. “Relax, Barba. I’m not gonna yell at you.”

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to unclench my fists. After a brief hesitation, I reached for Y/N’s hand again, letting my fingers curl around hers. Sonny watched but didn’t say anything at first, just resting his elbows on his knees as he studied me.

Then, after a long pause, he asked, “When did you realize it?”

I frowned. “Realize what?”

“That you love her.”

The question caught me off guard. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, trying to gather my thoughts. When had I realized it? Had it been all at once, some grand revelation? Or had it crept up on me over time, settling into my bones before I even understood it was there?

Sonny must have seen the conflict on my face because he kept going. “Why her? And why the hell didn’t you tell her?”

I let out a heavy breath, running a hand over my face. “Because I was afraid,” I admitted. “Because she deserves better than someone like me—someone who lives in a courtroom, who puts work before everything, who ruins every relationship he’s ever had.”

Sonny scoffed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I shot him a look, but he only leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Look, I get it. You think you’re protecting her. But you’re wrong. You think Y/N doesn’t know who you are? That she hasn’t already decided you’re worth it?”

His words settled deep, but before I could respond, he smirked. “You know, we had a bet going. Well Finn, Amanda and Nick did I wanted no part of it.”

I blinked. “A bet?”

Sonny chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah. Back in the squad room, her second day working with you. Finn, Amanda, and Amaro—they all bet on how long it would take before you two figured it out.”

My stomach twisted. “Figured what out?”

“That you were in love with each other.”

The air felt too thick in my lungs. “You’re joking.”

Sonny grinned. “Wish I was. Amaro said a month. Amanda gave it three. Finn? He was the only one who said it’d take over a year. He figured you’d be stubborn about it.” He paused, tilting his head. “Looks like he was right.”

I let out a quiet laugh, though it was more disbelief than amusement. “And Y/N?” I asked cautiously. “What did she say about all this?”

Sonny’s smirk softened. “She never denied it, Barba. Never. If anything, she just got flustered whenever we brought it up.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “She loves you, man. I know it. Even if I don’t want to believe it.”

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening around Y/N’s hand.

I wanted to believe him. God, I needed to believe him. But right now, all that mattered was her waking up.

And when she did, I had no intention of letting another second slip by.

Sonny asked me again, his voice quieter this time. “When did you realize it?”

I exhaled slowly, staring down at Y/N’s hand in mine. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor filled the silence between us, a reminder that she was still here, still fighting her way back to us.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t some grand moment of clarity. It wasn’t like the movies where everything suddenly clicks into place. It just… built up over time.”

Sonny didn’t interrupt, just watched me, waiting.

“I think—” I hesitated, struggling to put the weight of my feelings into words. “I think I was already in love with her before I even realized it. It wasn’t one thing. It was a hundred little things. The way she argued with me but always listened. The way she laughed when she thought no one was paying attention. How she never backed down, even when she was scared.”

I let out a quiet, bitter chuckle. “By the time I understood what I was feeling, it was too late. I was already gone.”

Sonny nodded slowly, as if he’d expected that answer. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

I looked at Y/N’s face—still, peaceful, but too pale under the harsh hospital lighting.

“I’m going to tell her,” I said firmly. “As soon as she wakes up, I’m telling her everything.”

Sonny huffed a laugh. “About damn time. But I’m telling you now. You hurt her, you put her in harms away again I will make sure you pay.”

…

Sonny and I must have dozed off at some point, exhaustion finally catching up to us despite the uncomfortable hospital chairs. The steady beeping of the monitors and the low hum of the hospital had lulled us into a restless sleep.

Then, a soft whimper broke through the quiet.

My eyes snapped open, my body jolting upright as I turned toward the bed. Y/N shifted slightly, her face contorted in distress. Sonny was already moving, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as we both surged to our feet, leaning over her.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” I said quickly, my voice thick with sleep but urgent with reassurance.

“Y/N, it’s me,” Sonny added, his hand resting gently on her arm. “You’re safe. We got you.”

Her glassy eyes darted between us, blinking rapidly as if trying to piece together where she was, what had happened. Then, as realization hit, her entire face crumpled.

A choked sob escaped her lips, and before I could say anything else, she broke down completely.

Tears spilled over her cheeks as she clutched at the thin hospital blanket, her body shaking with the force of her emotions. Sonny immediately reached for her hand, murmuring reassurances, while I felt frozen in place, my chest tightening at the sight of her like this.

She was here. She was alive. But she was hurting.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to push past the lump in my throat. I reached out hesitantly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re safe now,” I whispered. “I swear.”

She didn’t say anything, just squeezed both our hands so tightly it was as if she was grounding herself in our presence. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

…

Y/N's P.O.V

When I finally felt steady enough to breathe without sobbing, I forced myself to look up. My eyes flickered between Sonny and Rafael, both of them hovering over me, their faces drawn with worry. My heart was still racing, my body trembling, but their hands in mine were real, solid. I wasn’t alone.

I swallowed hard, my throat raw. “What… what did Marco do to me?” My voice cracked, and I hated how small I sounded.

Sonny and Rafael exchanged a glance—one of those silent conversations that spoke volumes. It made my stomach twist.

“Y/N,” Rafael started gently, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “He drugged you. Knocked you out before you could fight back.”

I sucked in a shaky breath. That explained the fog in my head, the exhaustion weighing me down like an anchor.

“He hid you beneath the docks at Coney Island,” Sonny added, his voice tight, like he was still holding back his anger. “Left you there to drown when the tide came in.”

My stomach turned violently, nausea clawing its way up my throat. The idea of being trapped, helpless, slowly swallowed by the ocean—God.

“But he didn’t—” My voice broke, and I forced myself to meet their eyes. “He didn’t hurt me? In any other way?”

Rafael’s grip on my hand tightened. “No,” he said firmly.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, my body sagging against the pillows. My hands were still shaking, but at least now, I knew. I wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

A beat of silence passed before I whispered, “I was so scared.”

Sonny let out a shaky breath and reached up, smoothing my hair back like he used to when we were kids. “I know,” he murmured. “But you don’t have to be anymore.”

I turned my gaze to Rafael. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t quite name. Guilt? Regret? Maybe both.

“You saved me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“We weren’t going to let anything happen to you,” Rafael said, his voice thick with emotion.

I squeezed their hands again, grounding myself in their presence. I was safe. I took a shaky breath, letting their words settle, but one more question burned at the back of my mind. My fingers tightened around Rafael’s hand as I turned my gaze between them. “Where is he?” My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

They didn’t have to ask who I meant.

“Locked up,” Sonny said immediately, his voice firm and sure. “Attica. No bail. He’s not getting out, Y/N.”

I let that sink in. Marco was gone. He couldn’t hurt me anymore. The fear still sat heavy in my chest, but it wasn’t as suffocating as before.

Sonny must have noticed the exhaustion weighing on me because he gave me a small, reassuring smile and leaned down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Get some rest, okay? We’ll be back in the morning.”

I frowned slightly, not wanting them to go just yet. But before I could say anything, Sonny smirked and added, “Not like we’ll have much of a choice. No doubt the whole squad will be here first thing.”

Despite everything, I let out a small, tired laugh. “And Ma?”

“Oh, don’t even get me started,” Sonny groaned. “I basically had to threaten to drive to Staten Island and take Ma’s car keys to keep her from driving up here tonight. And I’m sure by now she’s called our sisters and probably Dad, too.”

I sighed, a small smile tugging at my lips. “So, basically, I should expect an invasion first thing in the morning.”

Sonny grinned. “Oh yeah. Prepare yourself.”

Rafael squeezed my hand gently. “Get some sleep, querida. We’ll be back soon.”

I nodded, the weight of everything finally settling into my bones. As I let my eyes slip shut, I felt their presence beside me, steady and unwavering.

…

By the time breakfast arrived, I was feeling a little more like myself. The woman who brought in the tray of food gave me a warm smile, setting it down gently, and not long after, a nurse came in to check my vitals and draw some blood, to make sure the drugs where clearing my system she said. She assured me everything was looking good and that I just needed to rest.

Once she left, I sighed, settling back against the pillows. The food wasn’t great, but I forced myself to eat it, knowing I needed the energy. I had just pushed the tray aside when the scent hit me.

Cannoli.

Fresh, homemade cannoli.

I barely had time to brace myself before the door burst open, the sound of hurried footsteps and overlapping voices filling the room. Sonny strode in first, his expression tense but relieved, followed closely by Ma, our sisters, and Mia, who was practically bouncing with excitement. The second Ma laid eyes on me, she let out a dramatic gasp, her hands flying up as if she’d just seen a ghost.

"Oh, tesoro mio!"she cried, rushing forward like a woman on a mission.

I barely had time to react before she was on me, cupping my face between her warm hands, her sharp eyes scanning me up and down like she was expecting to find some horrible injury the doctors had somehow missed. She turned my head left, then right, then smoothed my hair down as if that would somehow fix everything.

Then, with a dramatic shake of her head, she declared, "This—this is why you shouldn’t be doing a man’s job!"

I groaned internally. Here we go.

"Ma—" I started, but she wasn’t finished.

"I told you, didn’t I? I told you!" She threw her hands in the air, as if pleading with the heavens. "You should be a nurse! Or a teacher! Something safe! Or better yet, find a nice, wealthy man to take care of you!"

Sonny groaned, rubbing his temples like this was a conversation they’d had one too many times before. "Ma, not now."

But she wasn’t listening to him. She never listened when she was on a roll.

"You look pale! You need to eat!" she announced, already rummaging through the oversized purse slung over her shoulder. Within seconds, she pulled out a foil-wrapped container, peeling back the layers with the precision of someone who had done this a thousand times before. The rich, sweet scent of fresh cannoli filled the air, and before I knew it, she was shoving one toward my face.

"Here. Eat, eat!" she insisted, her voice leaving no room for argument.

I huffed a laugh despite myself, shaking my head. "Ma, I—"

"No arguing!" she interrupted, eyes narrowing in warning. "You need to keep your strength up, poverina!"

Mia, who had climbed up onto the edge of my hospital bed with all the grace of an energetic seventeen-year-old, giggled at the scene unfolding before her. "You might as well just take it," she said with a knowing grin. "Nonna’s not gonna let up until you do."

I shot Sonny a desperate look, silently pleading for help, but he just smirked and shrugged like I was on my own. Traitor.

Defeated, I took the cannoli from Ma’s expectant hands and bit into it. The crispy shell cracked slightly under the pressure, giving way to the creamy ricotta filling, rich with hints of vanilla and citrus, and the perfect touch of chocolate. It was heaven.

I sighed, closing my eyes for a brief moment, savoring the familiar taste of home. When I looked back up, Ma was beaming like she had just personally saved my life.

"See? Much better!" she declared, crossing her arms in satisfaction.

I rolled my eyes, but deep down, I couldn’t help the warmth that spread through my chest. The chaos, the fussing, the smothering concern—it was all so familiar, so them. No matter what had happened, no matter how close I had come to losing everything, I knew this much was true.

I was safe. I was loved.

Shortly after, the door swung open again, and in came Olivia, Amanda, Finn, Amaro, and Rafael, all armed with balloons and flowers. The room was already crowded with my family, but somehow, they all managed to squeeze in.

"You guys didn’t have to come," I said, shaking my head. "As soon as the doctors confirm the drugs are out of my system, I’ll be on my way home anyway."

The room was already a whirlwind of noise and movement, but in the middle of it all, I caught a flicker of something on Rafael’s face—concern, hesitation, like there was something on his mind he wasn’t saying. But before I could dwell on it, a strangled noise cut through the chatter.

Amanda.

Her face scrunched up in clear discomfort, her nose wrinkling as she fought off what looked like a serious wave of nausea.

I glanced at her, then down at the half-eaten cannoli in my hand. My mind connected the dots in an instant, and my eyes widened as realization hit me like a freight train.

"Amanda," I said slowly, my lips already curling into a knowing grin. "Are you pregnant?"

She hesitated just for a second, her expression unreadable, before a smirk—one I knew all too well—spread across her face. Then, she nodded.

Chaos. Absolute, immediate chaos.

Olivia gasped, her eyes lighting up. Finn clapped Amanda on the back with a proud laugh, while Amaro’s face split into a grin, giving her one of those quiet, brotherly nods of approval.

Sonny, standing just beside me, froze.

For the briefest moment, barely a heartbeat, I saw something flicker across his face. A look of heartbreak—raw, aching, there and gone in an instant.

Then, just as quickly, it was buried. He pulled himself together, pasted on a grin, and jumped straight into interrogation mode. "Does the baby’s father know yet?" he asked, folding his arms like he was about to personally hunt the guy down if the answer was anything less than satisfactory.

Meanwhile, Ma had her hands over her heart, already launching into a passionate speech about the joys and struggles of motherhood, rattling off old family sayings and promising Amanda she would never sleep the same again.

I just sat there, watching the chaos unfold with a wide grin as Amanda rolled her eyes at all the attention.

"That explains the face you made when you smelled the cannoli," I teased, nudging her playfully.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Don’t even talk about it. Just the thought makes me want to hurl."

I laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in my chest, warm and unburdened.

For the first time since everything had happened—since the fear, the uncertainty, the pain—I felt it.

A moment of pure, simple joy.

And after everything, that was exactly what I needed.

…

Rafael’s P.O.V

As the celebration continued, I pulled Sonny aside, lowering my voice so the others wouldn’t hear.

"Give me your keys," I said.

Sonny frowned. "Why?"

"I want to clean up Y/N’s room if you haven’t already," I admitted. "After everything, she should come home to something… normal."

Sonny let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he fished the keys from his pocket. "Just stay out of her underwear drawer, Barba," he teased, handing them over.

I rolled my eyes but took the keys without another word.

The drive to Sonny’s place was quiet, giving me too much time alone with my thoughts. When I finally arrived, I let myself in and made my way to Y/N’s room. The mess was worse than I remembered—clothes scattered, books out of place, the bed unmade from the last time she slept in it. We had torn through everything, desperate for any clue that could’ve led us to her.

I sighed, rolling up my sleeves, and got to work.

I made her bed, smoothing out the sheets with deliberate care. The fabric was slightly rumpled from where we’d torn through the room in our desperate search for answers, but I pulled the blankets tight, tucking them in. I fluffed her pillows, setting them neatly at the head of the bed, making sure everything looked just right—just hoping it was how she liked it.

It struck me then, standing there in the quiet, how little I actually knew about the details of her life. I knew her wit, her fire, the way she held her own in an argument, how she carried herself with an unshakable confidence even when the odds were stacked against her. But this—this space, the things she surrounded herself with—felt like a different kind of intimacy. One I had never really considered before.

My eyes landed on a small, worn plush toy resting on the floor near the nightstand. A chinchilla—of all things. Its fur was faded in places, one ear slightly bent in a way that suggested it had been held tightly, repeatedly, over the years. I crouched down, picking it up carefully. It was soft, delicate, clearly a childhood favorite. I wondered if it had been a gift, or if she had picked it out herself as a kid. Did she still reach for it when she had nightmares? When the weight of the job got too heavy?

I brushed off a bit of dust before placing it gently on her bed, tucking it against her pillow. It felt like putting a piece of her back where it belonged.

Turning my focused on the clothes strewn across the room—crumpled on the floor, draped over the chair by her desk, kicked halfway under the bed. I gathered them up, sorting them into piles: shirts, pants, underthings. I hesitated over a worn Backstreet Boys sweatshirt before folding it carefully. Had she been a fan? I didn’t even know what music she liked, who her faviroute artist was. That realization sat uncomfortably in my chest.

I bundled the laundry into a basket and carried it down to the building’s laundry room, starting a wash cycle before leaning against the machine. The rhythmic hum filled the silence, but it didn’t quiet my thoughts.

When I returned to her room, my gaze fell on her bookshelves—four of them, floor-to-ceiling, overflowing with books that had been thrown into disarray. Some were lying sideways, others stacked hastily, their usual order ruined. I had seen her collection at the office, had watched her run a finger along the spines as she searched for a title, but I had never really looked at them.

I ran my fingers over the covers as I picked them up, flipping them over to scan the summaries. Classic literature. True crime. Philosophy. A few well-worn romance novels that looked like they had been read and reread a dozen times. That caught me off guard. Did she believe in love stories? I had never thought to ask.

I placed each book back in its rightful place, aligning them carefully. I had assumed she organized them alphabetically because that was how she did it at work, but now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe it wasn’t about efficiency. Maybe it was about control. About having something in her life that stayed exactly the way she put it.

Her desk drew my attention, torn apart by Sonny. Papers scattered across the surface, notes scribbled in the margins of case files. A half-finished crossword puzzle. Pens rolling near the edge. A mug—long since emptied—sitting precariously close to toppling over. I reached for it, turning it in my hands. The logo was faded, the words barely visible. A souvenir from a vacation? A gift?I set it back down, wiping the desk clean.

I had spent years working beside her, but in this moment, surrounded by the details of her life, I realized how little I actually knew her. Not just the Y/N I argued next to in court, not the ADA who fought tooth and nail for justice, but the woman who curled up with old paperbacks, who kept a childhood stuffed animal on her bed, who left crossword puzzles unfinished.

By the time I retrieved her laundry and started folding, the room looked untouched, like the chaos of the last few days had never happened. But in my chest, something had shifted.

And that was when the front door opened.

I froze. Footsteps echoed across the living room, and before I could react, Y/N stepped into the room.

She stopped short, her eyes scanning the room before landing on me. Confusion flickered across her face before realization set in.

I swallowed, guilt washing over me.

"I—" I hesitated, then exhaled. "I’m sorry. We tore your room apart looking for clues during Marco’s sick scavenger hunt. I just… I wanted to fix it."

Y/N looked at me for a long moment before stepping fully into the room. She didn’t say anything right away, just glanced around, taking in every carefully placed item, every straightened surface.

Then, finally, she met my eyes.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Y/N sighed, leaning against the doorframe as she watched me fold the last of her laundry. "Before I left the hospital, Stone stopped by," she said, her voice quieter than before. "He wanted to check in… and let me know he’d need a victim statement from me."

She said the word like it didn’t quite belong to her, like it tasted wrong in her mouth. I saw the way her fingers curled into her sleeves, the tension in her shoulders.

I set the folded shirt down and straightened, meeting her eyes. "I know," I said gently. "He spoke to me too. He wants my statement tomorrow."

Her brow furrowed slightly. "Why?"

"Because I’m a victim too," I admitted. "Not in the same way as you, but Marco dragged me into this just as much as he did you. He already got Liv’s statement, along with Finn, Amanda and Amaro. It’s just you, me, and Sonny left."

She let out a slow breath, nodding. "Right."

I hesitated before taking a step closer. "Y/N… you don’t have to do this alone. If you want, I can be there when you talk to Stone."

She studied me for a moment, and I wasn’t sure if she would accept or push me away. But then, her lips quirked just slightly, a ghost of a smile.

"Thanks, Rafael," she murmured. "I might take you up on that."

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight @chriskevinevans @svzwriting29

Objection! Part 9

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

5.3k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Authors Note: I am not happy with this chapter. I might come back to it after Christmas. I might edit it while I'm away who knows. I feel like it could be so much better.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Sonny brought the car to a screeching halt in front of the DA’s office, the tires protesting loudly as we stopped. I barely waited for the engine to cut before throwing the door open and sprinting toward the building. Sonny and Olivia were right behind me, their footsteps pounding in unison with mine.

We burst through the doors, startling Carmen, who was seated at her desk with a cup of coffee in hand. Her usual calm demeanour faltered as she looked up at us, confused by our urgency.

“Carmen!” I barked, my voice sharper than I intended. Her eyes widened in alarm. “Has anyone been in my office today? Did anyone leave anything for me?”

“What—what’s going on?” she stammered, clearly thrown off by my tone.

“Just answer the question!” I snapped, running a hand through my hair as my nerves got the better of me.

She frowned, clearly trying to process my outburst. “There was a delivery earlier. A box—it’s on your desk.”

My stomach dropped. I turned toward my office door, already dreading what I might find. A cold sweat prickled my skin as my mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last. God, please don’t let it be a piece of her. Not like this.

But Sonny had already shoved past me, charging into my office with no hesitation. He grabbed the box from my desk, ripping the lid off in one swift motion.

For a moment, none of us breathed. Then Sonny pulled out… a plush chinchilla.

Olivia blinked, breaking the silence with a deadpan, “Is that a rat?”

“It’s not a rat!” Sonny shot back, glaring at her as he held the plush defensively. He studied it with an intensity that would have been comical if the situation weren’t so dire.

Meanwhile, I was struggling to keep up. “What the hell is this supposed to mean?” I muttered, stepping closer to the desk. My eyes landed on the folded piece of paper still inside the box. I snatched it up and unfolded it with shaking hands.

Olivia leaned in, reading over my shoulder. “For the next six clues, you’ll have to ask—but be quick, or she’ll pass.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and ominous. I felt my stomach churn. “Ask who? And what does ‘she’ll pass’ mean? Is he threatening her life, or is this another one of his games?”

Sonny, still holding the chinchilla, finally spoke up. “It’s not a rat—it’s a chinchilla. And I’m pretty sure the only place in the city with chinchillas is the Bronx Zoo.”

“The Bronx Zoo?” Olivia asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sonny nodded firmly. “It was Y/N’s favourite place growing up. She’d go there every chance she got. And every visit started and ended with the chinchillas. It has to be the zoo.”

We didn’t waste any time. Back in the car, Sonny took the wheel again, his driving just as reckless as before. The urgency in the air was suffocating, every second ticking by like a countdown to disaster.

As the car sped through the city streets, Sonny spoke over the roar of the engine. “When we were kids, our parents would take her to the Bronx Zoo for her birthday. Every year. The first and last thing she’d do was visit the chinchillas. She loves them.”

I stared at the plush in my hands, trying to reconcile the sweet memory Sonny shared with the grim reality we were facing. My fingers tapped anxiously against my thigh as I tucked the Chincilla away with the book from earlier. “The note,” I said, turning back to Olivia. “What do you think it means? ‘Ask’? Ask who? Ask what?”

Olivia shrugged, her expression tight with worry. “It could mean anything. Marco’s been deliberately vague this entire time. He’s toying with us, and he knows it.”

I clenched my fists, frustration boiling beneath the surface. Every step of this chase felt like a slap in the face, a reminder of how helpless I was in protecting Y/N. But there wasn’t time for self-pity. We had to stay sharp.

Sonny glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Whatever it means, we’ll figure it out. We have to. Let’s just get to the zoo first.”

His voice was steady, but I could see the tension in his grip on the steering wheel. We all knew the stakes. And with every mile closer to the Bronx Zoo, my determination solidified.

I couldn’t let Marco win. Not this time.

…

Sonny pulled the car to a jerking halt outside the Bronx Zoo. I barely had time to exhale before Olivia was already out, her badge flashing as she approached the ticket booth.

“We’re NYPD,” she said briskly, showing the man behind the glass her identification. “Has anyone left anything for us? A package, a message?”

The man blinked, startled by her intensity, and shook his head. “No, ma’am. Nothing’s been left here.”

I stepped forward, pulling out my phone to show him a picture of Marco. “What about this man? Have you seen him recently?”

The guy leaned closer, squinting at the screen. “I don’t think so. But I can’t say for sure. We’ve had a lot of visitors today.”

It was frustratingly vague, but there wasn’t time to press him further. We headed straight through the gates, the familiar smell of popcorn and animal enclosures hitting me as we walked. Despite the urgency of the situation, I couldn’t help the faint pang of nostalgia that tugged at me. Y/N had spoken about this place before, about how much she loved it as a kid. And now, it felt like Marco was using that love against her—and us.

“Where to?” Olivia asked, glancing around the sprawling zoo grounds.

“The Mouse House,” Sonny answered, as if it were obvious. “Chinchillas. Let’s move.”

We navigated the winding pathways, dodging families and strollers, my eyes scanning every face we passed. My nerves were taut, every sound and movement setting my heart racing.

The Mouse House was dimly lit, the soft chatter of visitors echoing off the walls. The smell of hay and sawdust hung in the air as we wound our way through the narrow corridors. My pulse quickened with every step, my eyes darting to every corner, searching for anything out of place.

When we reached the chinchilla enclosure, I stopped short. There they were—tiny, fluffy creatures with twitching noses, hopping around in their habitat like nothing in the world could bother them. Y/N’s voice echoed in my mind, her excitement as she’d once described them to me after I asked her about her computer background, the only reason I had recognised the Chincilla plush for what it was.

But there was no sign of Marco. No sign of Y/N. Just the glass enclosure and the animals inside.

Sonny was already scouring the area, checking behind benches and trash cans, while Olivia questioned a zookeeper standing nearby. I stood frozen, my gut telling me we weren’t in the wrong place—but we were missing something.

“Barba,” Sonny called, his voice sharp. He was crouched near the edge of the enclosure, holding something in his hand. A folded piece of paper.

I moved quickly, snatching it from him and unfolding it. The message was written in Marco’s now-familiar scrawl:

“You’re halfway there. Keep following her heart, and you might just save it.”

My grip tightened on the paper as frustration bubbled up inside me. “Her heart?” I muttered aloud, staring at the words. “What the hell does that mean?”

Olivia glanced over my shoulder. “Could be literal, could be figurative. Either way, it’s cryptic as hell.”

Sonny stood, brushing off his pants. “Her heart... what else did Y/N love? Something she always talked about?”

The weight of the chase pressed down on me like an anchor, each step feeling heavier than the last. Marco was toying with us, stringing us along with vague clues, and Y/N’s life was slipping through our fingers. Every moment wasted felt like a step closer to losing her.

As we reached the far end of the Mouse House, I spotted a man standing behind an ice cream cart, his colorful setup a jarring contrast to the dimly lit surroundings. He greeted each passerby with an enthusiastic grin, cheerfully handing out cones piled high with creamy swirls.

I approached cautiously, hope flickering weakly in my chest. Maybe he had seen something. Maybe he held another piece of the puzzle.

"Free ice cream today!" the man announced as I neared, his voice full of warmth. He held out a cone toward me, the scent of vanilla and sugar wafting in the air. "Some generous guy came by this morning and paid for the whole cart—said to make sure everyone got one."

I forced a polite smile, though the tension in my chest made it impossible to enjoy the gesture. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” My tone was clipped, businesslike. I pulled out my phone and held up the screen, showing him the photo of Marco. “Was it this man? Did he pay for the ice cream?”

The vendor leaned closer, squinting at the screen. After a moment, he nodded with a bright smile. “Yeah, that’s him! Paid in cash, too. Real nice guy, seemed like he just wanted to spread some joy.”

I clenched my jaw, my frustration barely contained. The ease with which Marco charmed people was infuriating, his calculated moves cloaked in harmless gestures. “Did he say anything else? Leave anything behind?”

The man shook his head, his cheerful demeanor unshaken. “Nope, just told me to give out the ice cream. That’s all.”

I nodded tightly, stepping back from the cart as a dull ache settled in my chest. “Thanks,” I muttered, my voice devoid of the gratitude I should have expressed.

“Have a good day!” the vendor called after me, his voice far too bright for the grim thoughts swirling in my mind.

I turned to Sonny and Olivia, who were already watching me. Their expressions mirrored my own—a blend of frustration and helplessness. The ice cream clue was another dead end, another cruel twist in Marco’s game.

Sonny ran a hand through his hair, pacing in agitated circles. “What now? Ice cream? Are we supposed to figure out some connection to ice cream now?”

I exhaled slowly, the weight of the situation pressing down harder. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But Marco’s not doing this without a reason. There’s something here. We just have to see it.”

The thought gnawed at me as the three of us stood there, the clock ticking relentlessly in the background. We had to figure this out—and fast.

“What now?” Olivia asked, her tone edged with impatience.

“He paid for the ice cream and told the guy to give it out for free. That’s it.” I ran a hand down my face, trying to think. “Nothing else. No clue.”

Olivia looked at Sonny. “Anything? Does Y/N have some connection to ice cream? A favourite parlour or something?”

Sonny shook his head, his hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. “Not that I can think of. She likes ice cream, sure, but nothing stands out.”

The thought of involving Amaro stung, like a sharp jab to an already tender wound, but I swallowed my pride. It wasn’t about me—it was about Y/N. If he could help us, I’d endure it. My voice came out lower than I intended, weighed down by reluctance.

“Maybe we should ask Amaro,” I said, each word feeling like it dragged itself out of me. “He knew about the bookstore—maybe he knows something we don’t.”

Sonny’s eyes widened, but not in surprise—more like a light bulb had just gone off. He snapped his fingers, his expression shifting to determination. “Wait. What if Marco means we need to ask the people around her? The ones who know her best.”

Before I could respond, he was already pulling out his phone, his fingers moving fast as he dialed.

Amaro picked up after just a few rings, his voice calm but questioning. “What’s going on?”

“We’re at the zoo, following Marco’s trail, but we’re stuck,” Sonny explained, his words rapid and urgent. “Do you know if Y/N has a favorite ice cream spot?”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by muffled voices as Amaro apparently relayed the question to others nearby. I clenched my fists, waiting, frustration bubbling beneath my skin.

After a brief silence, Amanda’s voice came through, clear and confident. “The Museum of Ice Cream,” she said firmly. “Y/N takes Jesse there all the time for girls’ days. It’s their go-to spot. The sprinkle pool is Jesse’s favorite part.”

Sonny’s face lit up with relief. He snapped his fingers again, nodding. “That’s it. Amanda, you’re a genius. Thank you.”

Amanda’s voice carried a hint of urgency now. “If Marco’s sending you there, don’t waste time. Go.”

“We’re on it,” Sonny promised, already moving toward the car.

I followed, my chest tight with a mix of emotions. Gratitude that Amanda knew the answer, frustration that I hadn’t, and an undercurrent of desperation to get to Y/N before it was too late.

…

The ride to the Museum of Ice Cream was suffocating. The only sound in the car was the hum of the engine and the occasional impatient sigh from Sonny as he maneuverered through the city streets. I sat in the back, staring out the window but seeing nothing.

My thoughts churned like a storm, each one landing heavier than the last. Amanda and Nick had known Y/N’s favourite places, her habits, her joys. Nick had known about the bookstore, Amanda about the Museum of Ice Cream. Even Sonny, her brother, had insights into her world that I could never claim.

I was her colleague, her partner. We worked side by side every day, and yet, what did I know about her? Not enough, that much was clear. Somewhere along the way, I had convinced myself that knowing her professionally was enough. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

The sharp screech of brakes jolted me out of my thoughts. Sonny brought the car to a halt in front of the brightly coloured façade of the Museum of Ice Cream.

“Let’s go,” he said, already climbing out.

We moved as one, a silent agreement to head straight for the sprinkle pool. If Amanda knew it was Y/N’s favourite, Marco did too.

Inside, the museum was alive with colour and laughter, a stark contrast to the grim tension between us. We weaved through the exhibits until we reached the sprinkle pool, a massive pit filled with foam sprinkles where kids dove in gleefully while parents looked on.

As we stood there, scanning the room for any sign of a clue, a woman in a pink uniform approached us with a broad smile. The logo on her shirt marked her as a museum employee.

“Good afternoon!” she said brightly, handing each of us a card.

I glanced at it: One Free Family Meal at a Restaurant of Your Choice.

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you handing these out?”

The woman kept her smile, but there was a hint of confusion in her expression. “A courier dropped them off this morning with a note. It said to give them to everyone who enters today as part of a promotional event. It’s unusual, but we followed the instructions.”

The moment she walked away, Olivia turned to Sonny. “What’s Y/N’s favourite restaurant?”

Sonny rubbed a hand over his face, clearly frustrated. “There was this place we went to as kids, every Sunday with our parents and grandparents. It became a tradition, and Y/N kept going even after the rest of us stopped. But I can’t remember the name.”

His fingers were already flying over his phone as he tried calling someone. After three attempts, he cursed under his breath and scrolled through his contacts again. This time, he paused and hesitated before dialling.

“She’ll know,” he muttered.

The line barely rang before it connected, and he began speaking rapidly in Italian.

“Mamma…sì, ho ricevuto il tuo messaggio…mamma…mamma...sì, saremo lì per Natale, non ce lo perderemo, lo sai…ascolta, qual era il ristorante dove andavamo con i nonni? Pensavo di prendere un buono per coccinella per Natale…Grazie mamma… Ti voglio bene, ciao” (Mum yes I've been getting your messages, Mum Mum, yes we'll be there for Chrismas we wouldn't miss it you know that, listen what was that restaurant we use to go to with Grandma and Grandpa? I was thinking I would get a gift certificate for ladybug for Christmas. Thanks Mum. Love you bye)

Olivia and I exchanged a glance, neither of us able to follow the conversation. But we didn’t need to. The tight set of Sonny’s jaw and the relief in his expression told us all we needed to know.

When he hung up, he turned to us, his voice firm. “La Nonna Restaurant. Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait for a response, already heading back toward the car. Olivia and I followed without question, a new wave of determination driving us forward.

…

Sonny drove with single-minded focus, weaving through traffic as the city flew by in a blur. La Nonna was etched deep in his childhood memories, and now it was the thread we followed, hoping it would finally lead us closer to Y/N.

The weight of my inadequacies pressed harder against my chest as the car sped toward La Nonna. I sat in the back seat, silent, letting the others talk around me. I was haunted by my lack of connection to this piece of Y/N’s life. La Nonna, a place that seemed etched into her family’s history, was foreign to me. While I worked alongside her every day, Marco had exposed just how shallow my understanding of her truly was.

The car came to an abrupt stop outside a cozy, brick-fronted restaurant. The windows glowed warmly against the fading daylight, and the air was rich with the scent of freshly baked bread and garlic. It should have been inviting, but urgency overrode any appreciation for its charm.

We pushed through the door, and the sound of light chatter and clinking plates greeted us. Behind the counter stood an older woman, her kind eyes lighting up in recognition as she saw Sonny.

“Sonny Carisi? My goodness, it’s been ages!” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with both surprise and affection.

Sonny managed a quick, polite smile, but his tone was sharp and efficient. “Mrs. Marinelli, I’m sorry, but we don’t have time to catch up. Did someone leave something here for us? A note, a package—anything?”

Her expression shifted to concern as she studied his face. “A young man did stop by this morning. Left an envelope and told me to hold onto it. Said someone would come for it later.” She reached under the counter, pulling out a plain white envelope and handing it to Sonny.

His fingers trembled as he tore it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper with Marco’s familiar cryptic handwriting. Sonny handed it to Olivia, who read aloud:

“Music spins memories and history unfolds. Find what was lost where vinyl molds.”

Olivia’s brow furrowed as she lowered the paper. “Music and vinyl? What does that even mean?”

I clenched my fists, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. “It’s vague on purpose. Marco’s playing games, and every second we waste gives him more power over us.” My voice was tighter than I intended, but the clock was ticking, and Y/N’s life hung in the balance.

Sonny began pacing the narrow space in front of the counter, muttering fragments of the clue under his breath. Olivia pulled out her phone, her fingers flying as she searched for connections. I stared at the note, willing it to make sense, but the answer danced just out of reach.

A buzz from Olivia’s phone broke the tense silence. She glanced at the screen and frowned before answering. “It’s Finn. I sent him a picture of the clue.”

She put the call on speaker, Finn’s steady voice cutting through the static. “You’re looking for Academy Records,” he said without hesitation.

Sonny stopped pacing, turning sharply toward the phone. “What? How do you know that?”

Finn’s tone was calm but certain. “Y/N loves that place. She’s dragged me there a few times. She’s got a thing for vinyl—old classics, rare finds. If Marco knows her as well as it seems, that’s where he’d send you next.”

Sonny exhaled sharply, already moving toward the door. “Thanks, Finn. We owe you one.”

The three of us piled back into the car, the engine roaring to life as Sonny floored the gas pedal. The urgency in the air was almost suffocating, but my thoughts spiraled inward.

Academy Records. Another corner of Y/N’s world I had never stepped into. Finn had shared moments with her there, moments I couldn’t even imagine. I didn’t belong in her life—not the way these other people did.

But there was no time to dwell on regrets. I could make up for my failures later. Y/N’s life depended on us moving faster, thinking smarter, and staying one step ahead of Marco’s game. I forced my focus back to the road ahead as the city blurred by, the cryptic note burned into my thoughts.

Marco’s game wasn’t over yet, but neither was ours.

…

We reached Academy Records in what felt like record time, the tires screeching as Sonny brought the car to an abrupt halt. None of us waited for a complete stop before flinging our doors open and rushing inside.

The store was small and chaotic, a maze of tightly packed shelves stuffed with vinyl records. The faint crackle of an old jazz tune played over the speakers, mixing with the smell of aged cardboard and faint traces of incense. Behind the counter stood a young man in his early twenties, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he barely glanced up at the jingling bell above the door.

“Can I help you?” he asked lazily, his tone oozing disinterest as he set down a cup of coffee.

Sonny stepped forward, the urgency in his voice cutting through the young man’s nonchalance. “We’re looking for something that might’ve been left here—a note, a package, anything unusual.”

The man blinked, finally giving us his full attention. His expression turned thoughtful, and then he shrugged. “Some weird guy came in this morning. Didn’t buy anything. Just left this.” He ducked behind the counter and came back up holding a folded piece of paper, slightly crumpled, as if it had been handled with as little care as possible.

Olivia took the note, her movements cautious, as though the thin piece of paper might hold a detonator. She unfolded it and scanned the words before reading them aloud: “Where the horses run and the waves crash loud, her laughter lingers under the clouds.”

The riddle hung heavy in the air, its poetic phrasing a stark contrast to the stark reality we faced.

Sonny groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Another damn riddle. We don’t have time for this!” His voice was sharp, frustration spilling over as the minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity.

I clenched my fists, staring at the note as if I could will it to reveal its secrets. Marco’s games were wearing us down, but Olivia’s sudden shift in expression caught my attention.

Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of recognition lighting her face. “I know where this is,” she said, her voice steady.

Sonny and I turned to her simultaneously, disbelief and hope mingling in our gazes.

“It’s Coney Island,” she continued with certainty. “The carousel. Y/N takes Noah there all the time. He talks about it all the time— the way Noah’s face lights up when he tells me how they ride together.”

Her words hit me like a gut punch. Another place Y/N had shared with someone else, another moment I’d never been a part of. The hollow ache in my chest grew, but I shoved it aside.

“Then we go now,” Sonny said, his tone clipped as he turned and headed for the door.

Olivia and I followed close behind, my mind racing as we climbed back into the car. The streets blurred past the windows, but all I could think about was the clock ticking down and the desperate hope that we weren’t already too late. Sonny drove like a man possessed, weaving through traffic with a focus that bordered on reckless.

In the backseat, I sat in silence, my thoughts a chaotic storm. I couldn’t help but feel like I was failing Y/N in more ways than one. She had shared so much of herself with the people around her—Sonny, Olivia, even Finn—and yet I had missed so much.

Olivia’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Rafael, don’t beat yourself up.”

I looked up, startled. She wasn’t even looking at me, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, but somehow she knew exactly what I was thinking.

Olivia continued. “What matters is that we get to her in time.”

I nodded, though her words did little to ease the tightness in my chest.

…

The car skidded to a stop at Coney Island, and the carousel loomed ahead, its brilliant lights casting flickering reflections on the damp boardwalk. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and purple, but I couldn’t spare a moment to take it in. All I could think about was Y/N—her life hanging by a thread, and the clock relentlessly ticking down.

The salty breeze hit me as we stepped onto the boardwalk, the faint sound of crashing waves blending with the distant laughter of families enjoying the evening. But the carousel's joyful melody felt like a cruel juxtaposition to the dread coiling in my chest.

We ran, the weathered planks of the boardwalk groaning under our hurried steps. The carousel lights grew brighter as we neared, their spinning patterns like a beacon pulling us forward. Sonny, Olivia, and I spread out immediately, questioning everyone within earshot—carousel workers, parents corralling their children, teenagers clustered with ice cream cones. But every inquiry met with a blank stare, a shake of the head, or a polite, “Sorry, haven’t seen anything.”

Frustration mounted like a storm inside me. My breaths came heavy, each one laced with the weight of Marco’s cruel taunts. Standing in front of the carousel, I repeated his chilling words aloud, barely realizing it: The longer you take, the more water fills her space.

Sonny spun on his heel, his face a mask of fury. “Are you serious, Barba?” he snapped, his voice cracking with anger. “We’re standing next to the damn ocean! How the hell are we supposed to figure this out from those stupid words?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came. My throat tightened as Sonny’s frustration boiled over. He marched toward me, jabbing a finger at my chest.

“This is all your fault!” he shouted, his voice raw. “You’re the reason she’s in this mess! Marco didn’t just pick her out of nowhere—why? Why did he go after my sister?”

Olivia shot me a desperate look, shaking her head as if to warn me against saying what I knew I had to. But the truth had been clawing at my chest for weeks, and it wouldn’t stay buried any longer.

I lowered my gaze, my voice barely audible. “Because I’m in love with her.”

Sonny froze. His hand hovered in mid-air as if the words had physically struck him. Then, in an instant, the shock gave way to a surge of anger. He grabbed my collar, yanking me close, his face inches from mine.

“You’re in love with her?” he spat, his voice shaking with rage. “And because of that, she’s lying out there somewhere, maybe drowning while we waste time chasing riddles? You didn’t even know anything about her, Barba. Her favorite things, the things that make her, her. You didn’t even know where she got your coffee. You think loving her makes up for all the ways you failed her?”

Each word hit harder than Sonny’s fists ever could, and I knew he was right. I had been so wrapped up in my feelings for Y/N, so afraid to cross a line, that I had let someone else exploit the space between us.

“You put her in danger because you couldn’t keep your feelings to yourself!” Sonny yelled, his voice cracking. “And now we don’t even know if she’s still alive!”

The punch came out of nowhere, his fist slamming into my jaw with a force that sent stars dancing across my vision. Pain exploded across my face, but I didn’t raise a hand to defend myself. I didn’t move at all. I deserved it.

“Enough!” Olivia shouted, stepping between us and pushing Sonny back. “This isn’t helping anyone!”

I touched the corner of my mouth, feeling the warm stickiness of blood on my fingertips. “It’s fine,” I rasped, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “I deserved that.”

Sonny’s chest heaved as he let go of my collar. He turned away, his anger still palpable, and pulled out his phone. “I’m calling backup. I want every available unit down here now. We’re combing every inch of this place until we find her.”

…

The flurry of officers and emergency responders that followed was both chaotic and a small comfort. Red and blue lights danced across the dark waves as search teams spread out along the beach, the docks, and every hidden corner of the area. Voices called out over the roar of the surf, flashlights sweeping over shadowed nooks and crannies.

But Marco’s words kept gnawing at me: The longer you take, the more water fills her space. My mind turned the phrase over again and again until a horrifying realization struck.

“The tide,” I whispered, my stomach twisting. Then louder, I shouted, “We have until high tide! Wherever she is, it’s going to flood!”

The words sent a ripple of urgency through the search teams. Everyone moved faster, their voices growing sharper and more determined.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a voice shouted from beneath the docks, “Over here!”

We all ran toward the sound, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. Beneath the wooden structure, in a small crawlspace created from rocks barely visible in the growing shadows, lay Y/N. The water was already lapping at her face. A paramedic was already down with her checking for signs of life. When he yelled back that she still had a pulse I released a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

“Get her out of there!” Sonny yelled, his voice cracking with desperation.

Officers scrambled to free her, lifting her carefully onto a stretcher. My breath caught as I saw her face—so still, so unlike the vibrant woman I knew. But the faint rise and fall of her chest told me she was still fighting.

The paramedics arrived in a flurry of motion, stabilizing her as they carried her toward the waiting ambulance. Sonny climbed in immediately, his hands shaking as he gripped hers.

Then, to my utter shock, he turned to me. “Barba,” he said gruffly, his voice tight with emotion. “Get in.”

I hesitated for only a second before nodding, climbing into the ambulance and taking the seat across from him. The ride was silent, save for the beeping monitors and the hum of the engine. Sonny didn’t look at me, his focus entirely on Y/N, but his invitation spoke volumes.

All that mattered now was that we had found her. She was alive. And we would do whatever it took to keep her that way.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight @chriskevinevans

Objection! Part 8

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

6.1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Authors Note: Drunks me has decide this chapters goodd to go blame the whiskey if its nots also blame the whiskey for any abd spellin and grammar drunk me is also not sorry for the cliffffhnager.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The squad room was unusually still, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the silence like an ominous soundtrack. I sat at a desk, staring at my phone, willing it to buzz with something—anything. A message. A clue. A sign. My knee bounced restlessly under the desk, and my hands clenched into fists. Each passing second felt like a lifetime, every tick of the clock a painful reminder that Y/N was out there, alone, and I wasn’t doing enough to bring her back.

The air felt heavy, thick with tension that no one dared to break. Amanda was seated at her desk, her hands hovering over her keyboard as if typing might somehow help her forget the helplessness in the room. Finn leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp. Olivia, always the calm in the storm, stood near her office, her arms folded as she scanned the room, likely calculating her next move. But it all felt distant to me. My focus was singular: the phone in front of me that refused to deliver answers.

Then the sound of heavy, purposeful footsteps storming into the room shattered the stillness like a thunderclap. Sonny.

His face was flushed with anger, a storm brewing in his eyes as he practically threw the door shut behind him, the loud slam making everyone flinch. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days—disheveled, tense, and radiating a kind of fury that no one wanted to be on the receiving end of.

“What the hell is wrong with all of you?” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of raw emotion. “Why are you just sitting around? Why aren’t you out there looking for my sister?”

Olivia stepped forward, her tone calm and steady as she tried to defuse the situation. “Carisi, we’re doing everything we can—”

But Sonny wasn’t having it. He cut her off, shaking his head furiously. “Don’t ‘Carisi’ me, Captain! My sister is out there with some psycho, and you’re all just standing here like it’s another day at the office!”

His eyes scanned the room wildly, seeking someone to lash out at, someone to blame. And then they landed on me.

“You,” he snarled, his voice dropping to a deadly edge as he pointed a trembling finger at me.

He crossed the room in quick strides, his fury like a physical force that slammed into me before his words even reached my ears.

“This is all your fault.”

I stood, meeting his gaze, my body tense. “Sonny,” I said, my voice low, a warning.

But he didn’t stop. His hands collided with my chest in a hard shove, forcing me to stumble back a step.

“If you’d done your damn job—if you hadn’t failed Anya—Y/N wouldn’t be in this mess!” he shouted, his voice raw with grief and fury. His words cut deeper than any blow, hitting a part of me I’d been trying to bury under determination and focus.

His chest was heaving, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The rest of the squad watched in stunned silence, no one daring to step in just yet.

“You were supposed to look after her, Barba! That was your job!” His voice cracked, tears glistening in his eyes as his anger started to morph into something more desperate.

“I know,” I said quietly, the weight of my guilt making it hard to speak louder.

But Sonny wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his face inches from mine, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss.

“If Marco hurts even a hair on her head,” he said, his voice trembling with both rage and fear, “you’re a dead man, Barba. You hear me? A dead man.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for me to respond.

I couldn’t.

The guilt was already eating me alive, and Sonny’s words felt like a knife twisting deeper into an already festering wound. I looked down, unable to meet his gaze, my jaw clenched as I tried to keep my emotions in check. The weight of his blame—and my own—threatened to crush me.

Finally, Olivia stepped forward, her hand resting gently on Sonny’s shoulder. “Sonny,” she said softly, “we’re going to find her. But this isn’t helping.”

He shook her off, taking a shaky step back, his chest still heaving. “You better,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper before he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving an oppressive silence in his wake.

I stayed rooted to the spot, my fists clenched at my sides, my eyes fixed on the desk in front of me. The words echoed in my head—your fault, your fault, your fault.

Before I could find my voice, the door opened again, and two uniformed officers walked in, dragging a man between them. Marco. His smug expression was infuriating, even as his dishevelled appearance betrayed that he’d been through hell.

“He turned himself in downstairs,” one of the officers said.

“Get him in interrogation,” Olivia ordered, her voice sharp.

I watched as the officers dragged Marco into the interrogation room, his head held high, his movements casual as if he were walking into a meeting instead of a police station. My blood boiled with every step they took. From the other side of the two-way mirror, I stood frozen, watching every calculated move he made. Marco leaned back in his chair with the smugness of a man who believed he held all the cards, his posture lazy, his lips curled into an infuriating smirk.

Olivia and Finn entered the room, their expressions hard as steel. They were seasoned, unshakable, but even they seemed tense as they faced the man responsible for Y/N’s disappearance. Olivia wasted no time, her tone icy as she cut straight to the point.

“You want to tell us where she is?” she asked, each word like a dagger aimed to pierce his composure.

But Marco didn’t flinch. He didn’t cower or hesitate. Instead, his smirk widened, his dark eyes gleaming with something sinister. His gaze shifted past Olivia, locking on the two-way mirror. It was as if he could see through it, his expression a challenge aimed directly at me.

“I’m not talking to you,” he said with infuriating calm. “I’ll only talk to Barba.”

The words hung in the air like a bomb ready to detonate. My fists clenched so tightly at my sides that my nails bit into my palms. I felt the heat of my anger rising, my pulse pounding in my ears. Through the glass, Olivia turned to glance at me, her hesitation flickering in the subtle furrow of her brow.

Before she could make a decision, I acted on instinct. Without waiting for approval, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room felt stifling, the tension pressing down on me like a physical weight. Marco’s eyes lit up as he saw me, his smirk growing into a predatory grin.

“You want to talk to me?” I asked, my voice tight with barely contained rage. I stood at the table, my hands gripping the edge so hard I thought the metal might bend. “Fine. Let’s talk. Where is she?”

Marco leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table as if he were about to share a secret. “Oh, Rafael,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. “Always so direct. Haven’t you learned by now? It’s never that simple.”

I slammed my hands down on the table, the sound reverberating through the room. The force rattled the chair Marco sat in, but he didn’t flinch. I leaned over him, my face inches from his, my fury barely leashed.

“Enough games!” I barked. “Tell me where she is!”

Marco’s composure didn’t waver. If anything, he seemed to enjoy my outburst, feeding off the anger radiating from me. He tilted his head like a teacher addressing a particularly slow student. “You like scavenger hunts, don’t you?” he asked, his voice deceptively light. “I left you some clues. Why don’t you put that sharp mind of yours to work?”

I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face, to force him to see the gravity of what he’d done. My voice rose, sharp and biting. “You’re wasting precious time!”

For the first time, his smirk faltered, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and his grin returned, but it was colder now, sharper.

“No, Rafael,” he said, his tone darkening. “You’re wasting time. The longer you stand here arguing with me, the more water fills her final hiding place.”

His words hit like a sledgehammer, each syllable echoing in my head. Water fills her final hiding place. The room seemed to tilt, my breath catching as the full weight of his threat sank in. Every second was precious. Every moment spent here was a moment closer to losing her.

“What did you say?” I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper, my hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the table.

“You heard me,” Marco said, his smirk returning, but his eyes were darker now, filled with cruel satisfaction. “If you want to save her, you’ll need to start with my things. They’re locked up downstairs. Tick tock, counselor.”

His taunting tone was the final straw. Without another word, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room, my heart pounding like a drum. His laughter followed me, low and menacing, a ghostly echo that clung to me as I sprinted down the hall.

Every second mattered now, and I wouldn’t waste another.

The moment Marco mentioned Y/N’s life hanging in the balance, a fire ignited inside me. Every second wasted felt like a betrayal to her. My feet pounded against the linoleum floor as I sprinted toward the evidence lockup, Sonny just steps ahead of me. His desperation mirrored my own, his frantic pace proof of how much he cared for his sister.

By the time I reached the evidence room, Sonny was already there, his hands moving with frantic precision as he rifled through Marco’s belongings. His face was a storm of emotions—anger, fear, and determination all vying for control. He barely acknowledged my arrival, snatching up the evidence bag containing Marco’s personal items.

“We don’t have time for this,” Sonny muttered under his breath, more to himself than to me. Without another word, we turned and bolted back to the squad room.

The others barely had time to clear the desks before we dumped the contents of the bag onto one of them, sending papers and small objects scattering across the surface. The noise of the chaotic search filled the air—keys clinking against the desk, papers rustling, receipts crumpling under impatient hands. The tension was suffocating, the silence broken only by Sonny’s muttered curses as he rifled through the mess.

I tried to focus, my hands shaking slightly as I sifted through the random items: a worn leather wallet, a set of keys on a chain with a gaudy souvenir keyring, a handful of receipts, and a few crumpled scraps of paper. None of it made sense. None of it screamed “clue.” My pulse pounded in my ears, the seconds ticking by with cruel indifference.

Then Sonny froze, his hands stilling mid-motion. His eyes locked on the wallet, a look of realization dawning across his face. He yanked it open and pulled out a folded piece of paper tucked into one of the inner pockets.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice sharp with urgency as I leaned closer.

Sonny unfolded the note with shaky fingers, his eyes scanning the handwritten words. “It says, ‘Your next clue can be found where Y/N buys Rafael’s morning coffee.’”

For a moment, I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Where she buys my coffee? I—I don’t know where she goes.”

Sonny scoffed, frustration flashing across his face as he tossed the wallet onto the desk. “Of course you don’t. She’s been doing it for months, and you haven’t even noticed.”

The jab stung, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Sonny grabbed his coat, the movement abrupt and filled with purpose. “I do. She always gets it from the same place because they sell her favorite cannoli. Come on.”

Before I could respond, Sonny was already heading for the door, his pace quick and his movements sharp. Olivia grabbed her jacket, sparing a glance at me as she followed.

“Let’s move, Barba,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.

I grabbed my own coat and hurried after them, sparing a brief glance back at the rest of the team. Amanda, Finn, and Nick were still in the squad room, their expressions a mixture of frustration and determination.

“Keep sweating him,” Olivia called over her shoulder as we left. “We’ll find her.”

The hallway outside felt colder, the sterile fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows. Sonny’s steps echoed ahead of us, his pace nearly a jog. The determination in his stride mirrored the fire burning in my chest. Wherever Marco’s sick game was leading us, I’d follow every step of the way—because failure wasn’t an option.

…

The tension in the car was suffocating as we sped toward the café, Sonny gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His frustration bubbled over, his voice sharp and accusing as he vented.

“You don’t know where she buys your coffee? Seriously, Barba? She does it every day! You didn’t think to ask? To notice?”

I wanted to argue, to defend myself, but the truth stung too much. I stared out the window, ashamed. “I didn’t ask her to do it,” I muttered, though the words felt hollow.

“You didn’t have to,” Sonny snapped, his voice rising. “You’re just oblivious! That girl would go to the ends of the earth for you, and you wouldn’t even notice. And now, look where we are.”

His words hit like a gut punch, but I didn’t have the luxury of letting them sink in. Y/N’s life was at stake, and dwelling on my shortcomings wouldn’t help.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the café, and Sonny was out before it had fully stopped, slamming the door behind him. Olivia and I scrambled to catch up as he barged inside, holding Marco’s photo up like a badge.

“Have you seen this man?” Sonny demanded, his voice cutting through the hum of the café.

A barista behind the counter paused, her eyes flitting from the photo to me. “Are you Rafael Barba?” she asked, her tone uncertain.

I stepped forward, my throat tight. “Yes.”

Wordlessly, she handed me a coffee cup. My name was scrawled on the side in sharp, black letters, and beneath it, a note in Marco’s handwriting: “Enjoy this at the table closest to the window. Best view in the house.”

I stared at the cup, my stomach churning with unease. “Keep it,” I said, setting it firmly back on the counter. The thought of playing Marco’s twisted game made my skin crawl.

Sonny and Olivia were already at the window, scanning the street outside for anything out of place. I joined them, my eyes darting over the view: the passing cars, bustling shops, and scattered pedestrians. Then my gaze landed on the florist across the street, its display bursting with vivid blooms.

“It’s there,” I said, my voice firm with conviction.

Sonny frowned, skeptical. “How do you know?”

I pointed to the florist’s display. “Magnolias. Y/N’s favorite perfume is magnolia and honeysuckle. That florist has magnolias right out front. It has to be there.”

Sonny didn’t wait for further explanation, and neither did I. The three of us bolted across the street, dodging honking cars and shouted curses from drivers. The air was thick with the sweet scent of flowers as we reached the florist, and we immediately began combing through the arrangements.

I shoved aside bouquets of roses, daisies, and lilies, searching for something—anything—that stood out. Sonny did the same, muttering curses under his breath as petals flew in every direction.

“Cosa stai facendo?” a furious voice suddenly bellowed in Italian, startling all of us.

An elderly man emerged from the shop, his face red with anger as he gestured wildly at the mess we were making. Sonny stepped forward, his tone urgent as he switched to rapid Italian, showing the man Marco’s photo.

“Avete visto quest'uomo? È importante, ha mia sorella,” Sonny pleaded.

The man’s scowl deepened, but after a long pause, he disappeared back into the shop. Moments later, he returned, holding a small bouquet of magnolias and honeysuckles. Attached to the stems was a card.

Sonny snatched it and unfolded it quickly, his hands trembling. He read aloud, “Congratulations on getting this far. I promise the rest won’t be as easy. Your next clue requires some required reading. CSL.”

“CSL?” Sonny repeated, his voice rising with frustration. He crumpled the card in his fist. “What the hell does that mean? There’s gotta be hundreds of libraries and bookstores in the city! How are we supposed to figure out which one?”

“Marco’s clues have been tied to Y/N,” Olivia interjected calmly. “Think. What library or bookstore would be important to her?”

Sonny groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know! She loves reading, she’s been to dozens of places—”

My mind raced. Marco’s game wasn’t random. Every clue so far had been calculated, designed to taunt us and waste precious time. Suddenly, Sonny spoke again, his tone more focused.

“We should go to Y/N’s room,” he said. “Maybe there’s something there. A book, a receipt, anything that could lead us to a specific place.”

I hesitated. The thought of tearing apart her sanctuary, her private space, felt invasive. But there was no other option.

“Let’s go,” Olivia said, already moving toward the car.

We piled in, the silence heavy with unspoken fears as Sonny drove us back to Y/N’s apartment. Every second felt like an eternity, the weight of the clock ticking down pressing harder with each passing moment.

…

Sonny stormed into his apartment ahead of Olivia and me, his frustration palpable as he pushed the door open and headed straight for Y/N’s room. I followed, not knowing what to expect but feeling an ache in my chest I couldn’t shake.

The moment I stepped inside, I was surrounded by her. The faint scent of magnolia and honeysuckle lingered in the air, her favorite perfume. It was subtle but unmistakable, and it sent a pang through me. Her room was uniquely hers—organized chaos that told a story in every corner.

Three towering bookshelves lined one wall, each one crammed full of books. Some were neatly arranged; others had stacks leaning precariously or lying flat across the tops of rows. A mix of genres, from legal thrillers to battered fantasy paperbacks, filled the shelves, alongside small trinkets that made the space so undeniably Y/N.

There were figurines of owls, a tiny Eiffel Tower, and a vintage globe no bigger than my fist. A jar of sea glass sat next to a framed photo of her and Sonny, both grinning like they didn’t have a care in the world. I stopped to look at it for a moment, the joy on her face a stark contrast to the fear I knew she must be feeling now.

The desk was cluttered but purposeful—papers, notebooks, and pens scattered across the surface. A lamp with a floral shade cast a soft glow over the space. A coffee mug sat on the desk, still half-full and abandoned in haste.

The bed, a queen size with a simple gray comforter, was unmade, the covers tossed back as if she’d just rolled out of it. A stuffed animal—a well-loved bear with one eye missing—sat propped up on the pillows. It was the kind of detail that felt so personal, so intimate, that it made my throat tighten.

Sonny tore through the room with urgency, pulling books off shelves and flipping through them for hidden notes. He yanked open drawers in her desk, scattering pens and papers across the floor. “There has to be something,” he muttered, frustration evident in every motion.

Olivia joined him, opening the wardrobe and sifting through the neatly hung clothes. She checked pockets, rifled through shoeboxes tucked on the floor.

I moved to one of the bookshelves, running my fingers over the spines of the books. “She has so many,” I murmured, almost to myself.

“She loves to read,” Sonny said without looking up. “Always has. If you paid more attention, you’d know that.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I crouched to check the lower shelves, trying not to think about how well Sonny knew her or how much I didn’t.

I opened the bedside table, finding a stack of journals and a flashlight. The journals were tempting, but I couldn’t bring myself to violate her privacy like that—not yet.

“Check the desk again,” Olivia said.

I stepped over to it, brushing my fingers over the coffee mug. It was still warm. She must have left it there this morning before this nightmare started.

Sonny cursed, pulling a pile of papers from the bottom shelf of the last bookcase. “There’s nothing here! No library card, no receipt, nothing.”

I leaned back against the desk, frustrated. The room was in disarray now, her things scattered everywhere, but we’d found nothing useful.

“I don’t know where she goes for books,” Sonny said, his voice breaking slightly.

“She has to have mentioned something,” Olivia said.

Before Sonny could respond, Olivia’s phone rang. Finn’s voice came through the speaker as she answered.

“Any luck on your end?” Finn asked.

“No,” Olivia admitted, running a hand through her hair. “We’ve torn her room apart and come up empty. You?”

Finn put her on speaker, and she repeated the clue. When Nick’s voice cut through, my stomach twisted.

“Centre Market Place,” he said. “Secondhand bookstore, below street level. Y/N took me there once to buy a present for Zara. She calls it her secret hideaway.”

“Of course, Little Italy our Nonna use to take her there all the time, it was their special place,  I can’t believe I forgot about that” For a brief moment joy flashed across Sonny’s face but was quickly replaced by determination.

Of course, Nick knew. He’d been there with her, shared that part of her world that I hadn’t.

“She never told me about it,” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else.

Sonny glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Well, now you know. Let’s go.”

I followed him out, the scent of magnolia and honeysuckle still clinging to me as we left her room in disarray. The thought of her stuck somewhere, terrified and waiting, pushed me forward. I wouldn’t stop until we found her.

…

Sonny drove like a man possessed, weaving through the dense New York traffic with a reckless precision that made my pulse hammer in my ears. The city blurred past in streaks of light and color as he pushed the car to its limits. My hand gripped the handle above the door tightly, knuckles white, but I said nothing. Sonny’s jaw was set, his focus unbreakable, and I knew better than to distract him. It wasn’t just the speed or the sharp turns that had my stomach in knots—it was the fear. The fear that every second slipping through our fingers might be one we couldn’t afford.

We skidded to a stop in front of the bookstore Nick had mentioned, the tires screeching loudly enough to draw annoyed looks from passersby. The building itself was understated, its entrance a narrow, weathered staircase descending into what looked like the basement of an old brownstone. The sign above the door was small and almost easy to miss, its hand-painted letters reading Rare Finds Books.

The moment we stepped inside, the air changed. It was warm and smelled of old paper and leather, with faint hints of coffee wafting from somewhere deeper in the maze-like shop. Shelves stretched in endless rows, towering over us, each crammed with books of all shapes and sizes. Some areas seemed impossibly tight, the shelves so close together that two people couldn’t pass through at the same time. Hidden alcoves featured overstuffed armchairs and small tables, inviting readers to lose themselves in a story. Despite its modest exterior, the store sprawled beneath the street above, an intricate labyrinth of literature.

“This place is a maze,” Olivia muttered, turning in a slow circle as her eyes scanned the towering shelves. “How are we supposed to find anything in here?”

Sonny’s expression was grim but determined. “CSL. It’s gotta be C.S. Lewis. Y/N loves his books—always has.”

His confidence spurred us into action. We split up without hesitation, scanning the shelves for anything bearing the familiar name. It didn’t take long to locate the section dedicated to C.S. Lewis. The shelves were packed with his works: The Chronicles of Narnia, Mere Christianity, The Screwtape Letters. Gold and silver lettering gleamed on the spines of hardcovers, while well-loved paperbacks showed the wear of countless readings.

Olivia and I dove in, pulling books from the shelves and flipping through their pages. I worked quickly, my fingers trembling slightly as I rifled through covers and dog-eared pages, searching for any sign of a clue. The tension in my chest grew with each empty book I replaced, the clock in my head ticking louder with every passing moment.

Then Sonny froze, his hand hovering over a single book on the shelf. “That Hideous Strength,” he murmured, pulling it down carefully.

I looked over at him. “Why that one?”

“It’s the last book in a trilogy Y/N’s been reading,” Sonny explained without looking up. “She’s been searching for this one for months. I’m sure of it.”

He opened the book, flipping through its pages with purpose. Midway through, a small slip of paper fluttered free, landing on the floor. Sonny snatched it up quickly, his breath hitching as he read it aloud.

“‘Eight clues to go, but will you make it in time? Your next clue will require a steep climb.’”

Olivia frowned, glancing around as though the next clue might be hidden in plain sight. “A steep climb? What does that mean?”

Sonny’s jaw tightened. “It means we don’t have time to waste. Let’s move.”

He dropped the book unceremoniously onto a nearby table and strode toward the door, muttering under his breath about steep climbs in the city. Olivia and I exchanged a quick glance before hurrying after him.

But I hesitated. My gaze drifted back to the book, its edges slightly frayed, the cover bearing the faint marks of countless hands. Something about it tugged at me. Without thinking, I picked it up and carried it to the counter.

“I’ll take this,” I said, pulling out my wallet.

The cashier, an older man with round glasses perched on his nose, smiled faintly as he rang it up. “Good choice,” he said. “Lewis always has a way of speaking to the soul.”

I nodded absently, tucking the book under my arm as I turned to leave. I didn’t know if we’d find Y/N in time, but I clung to the hope that we would. Christmas was only a few weeks away, and if she made it through this, I’d find a way to give her the book. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small piece of normalcy in a nightmare that felt never-ending.

I jogged to catch up with Sonny and Olivia, the book pressed tightly to my chest like a talisman against the uncertainty ahead.

…

Back in the car, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with frustration and urgency. Sonny gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, as he and Olivia volleyed ideas back and forth about what "a steep climb" could mean. Their voices overlapped, each growing louder as their frustration mounted.

“Could it be the Empire State Building?” Olivia suggested, glancing at her phone as she pulled up a map. “It’s a climb, and it’s iconic.”

Sonny shook his head sharply. “Too public. Marco’s been keeping this quiet. It’s gotta be something personal to Y/N.”

I sat in the backseat, clutching the book I had bought for her, my mind racing. The clue had to mean something tied to Y/N—every step so far had been personal, connected to her routines, her likes, her life. Then it hit me.

“What if it’s the courthouse?” I said, my voice cutting through their argument.

Both of them turned to look at me, Sonny’s frown deepening. “The courthouse? Why would it be there?”

I leaned forward, gripping the back of the front seat. “She’s there almost every day. It’s a part of her routine. The steps could easily be considered a steep climb.”

Sonny’s eyes flicked to Olivia, annoyance flashing briefly in his expression, as if he was frustrated he hadn’t thought of it first. But then his jaw set, and he nodded. “Alright, let’s check it out.”

He hit the gas, the tires screeching as we sped toward the courthouse. The familiar city streets whipped past, the growing ache in my chest tightening with every block. Time felt like a physical weight pressing down on me, each second a reminder that Y/N could be slipping further away.

The moment we arrived, we were out of the car and sprinting toward the courthouse steps. The towering building loomed over us, its columns and grandeur as imposing as ever. We scaled the steps two at a time, the burn in my legs barely registering through the adrenaline coursing through me.

At the top, a man leaned against the railing, his clothes tattered, a worn backpack slung over his shoulder. He straightened the moment he saw us, his sharp eyes locking onto me.

“Hey!” he called, his voice rough but clear. “You Rafael Barba?”

I stepped forward, my chest heaving. “Yes. Did someone leave a message for me?”

The man nodded, digging into his pocket. From the folds of his jacket, he pulled out a crumpled $50 bill. “Some guy gave me this. Told me to wait here and say, ‘Water liberty seat.’”

“Water liberty seat?” Sonny repeated, his voice rising with frustration. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

The man shrugged, pocketing the bill and wandering off before we could press him for more information. Sonny threw up his hands in exasperation, pacing back and forth along the top step. “This is ridiculous! How the hell are we supposed to make sense of that?”

Olivia placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “Sonny, we’ll figure it out. We just have to stay focused.”

But I wasn’t paying attention to them. My mind was already working, the words tumbling over each other in my head like puzzle pieces sliding into place. Water liberty seat. It wasn’t random. It wasn’t a riddle—it was a description.

“Battery Park,” I said, my voice cutting through Sonny’s muttering.

Sonny stopped mid-pace, turning to face me. “What did you say?”

“It’s Battery Park,” I repeated, more firmly this time. “Y/N eats lunch there sometimes when she’s working late. She told me once she likes to sit where she can see the Statue of Liberty. ‘Water liberty seat’—it fits.”

Sonny blinked, his frustration giving way to dawning understanding. “That’s... yeah, that’s gotta be it.”

Olivia nodded, already heading for the car. “Then let’s move.”

We were running again, my legs burning as we pounded back down the courthouse steps. The sense of urgency clawed at me, each step feeling heavier, each second more precious.

As we raced through the streets toward Battery Park, I couldn’t shake the thought gnawing at the back of my mind: time was slipping through our fingers, and we couldn’t afford to lose another moment.

…

Sonny slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt in front of Battery Park. Before the engine had fully died, I was out of the car, my feet pounding against the pavement. My focus zeroed in on the bench, the one Y/N always sat on, the one I’d overlooked so many times before.

The bench faced the water, perfectly positioned to catch a view of the Statue of Liberty. I dropped to my knees beside it, ignoring the curious stares from passersby. My hands groped underneath, searching for something, anything, out of place. My fingers brushed against the edge of a crinkled paper bag, wedged in a spot so hidden it was almost invisible.

“Got it,” I muttered, tugging the bag free and sitting back on my heels. Olivia and Sonny crowded around me as I opened it. Inside was a neatly wrapped sandwich and a single folded piece of paper.

The note was maddeningly vague, written in Marco’s infuriatingly smug handwriting: “You know where to go.”

Sonny snatched the note from my hand, scanning the words as his frustration boiled over. “What the hell does that even mean?” he shouted, crumpling the note and hurling it into the trash along with the untouched sandwich. “This guy’s screwing with us! We’re running around the city while Y/N—” His voice broke off, and he turned away, pacing angrily along the sidewalk.

I sat on the bench, the weight of the situation pressing down on me like a tidal wave. My head dropped into my hands as I tried to piece together Marco’s twisted logic. He wouldn’t leave something vague without expecting me to figure it out. It wasn’t random; it was deliberate.

The steady rhythm of the waves caught my attention, pulling my gaze toward the water. For a moment, the chaos around me faded. The answer wasn’t in the note—it was in Marco’s mind. Every step of this game was a taunt, a deliberate jab at me. This wasn’t about Y/N, not really. She was the bait, a pawn in Marco’s personal vendetta.

I stood abruptly, the answer snapping into focus. “The DA’s office,” I said, turning to Olivia and Sonny. “It has to be the DA’s office.”

Sonny stopped pacing, his frustration giving way to determination. “Why the DA’s office?”

“Because this about Y/N,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my chest. “It’s about her. Every clue has been personal, tied to her life, her routine. The DA’s office is the center of it all—it’s where he wants me.”

Without hesitation, we piled back into the car. Sonny floored the gas, the tires screeching as we tore through the city streets. Inside the car, the tension was a living thing, suffocating and thick. The blare of horns and shouts of frustrated drivers barely registered over the pounding of my heart.

Sonny broke the silence, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice low but edged with anger. “Why Y/N? Why did Marco go after her? Why would he think she’s your weakness?”

His question hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Olivia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. Her gaze was heavy with sympathy, but I looked away, unable to face it.

I knew why. We, Olivia and I, both did. But the words stuck in my throat, the admission too raw, too close to everything I had ignored for far too long. Y/N was targeted because of me—because I had let her into my life without considering the danger that came with it. Marco saw her as my weakness, the one way to make me pay for what he thought I’d done to him.

But I couldn’t say it. Not now. Not with Sonny’s anger simmering and Olivia’s quiet understanding pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t lift.

“I don’t know,” I lied, my voice barely above a whisper.

The silence in the car was deafening after that. Sonny’s jaw tightened, and I could feel his frustration radiating off him, but he didn’t press further. Olivia glanced back at me again, her eyes soft with unspoken words, but I kept my gaze fixed out the window. The city blurred past, the familiar streets a reminder of how close we were—and how far Y/N still seemed.

As we approached the DA’s office, my chest tightened. The closer we got, the heavier the weight on my shoulders grew. Marco had dragged us here for a reason, and I could only pray we weren’t already too late.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight @chriskevinevans

Objection! Part 7

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

3.4k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The air felt heavier, the silence more oppressive, as we kept moving through the tunnels. My flashlight flickered against the walls, catching glimpses of rusted pipes and slick concrete. We were both exhausted, but giving up wasn’t an option. Not now. Not when every step could bring us closer to the answers—or the way out.

Then we saw it: a door. Unlike everything else down here, it looked new, the metal gleaming faintly in the dim light. I stopped, my pulse quickening. “That doesn’t belong.”

Nick nodded, stepping forward to inspect it. “Looks like it was built recently. Think this is what we’ve been looking for?”

“Only one way to find out.” I grabbed the handle, hesitating for half a second before pulling it open.

The sight inside hit me like a punch to the gut. A teenage girl, barely older than fifteen, was strapped to some kind of metal frame. Her head lolled to the side, her breathing shallow but steady. She was alive, thank God, but her eyes were glazed over—drugged.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, rushing forward. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re here to help.”

Nick moved beside me, his flashlight sweeping the room. “She doesn’t look hurt. Just out of it.”

I checked her over quickly, relieved to find no visible injuries. The restraints were another story—heavy-duty cuffs locked tightly around her wrists and ankles, anchoring her to the frame. I tugged at one, testing its strength. “We’re going to need a key.”

Nick started searching, his flashlight darting over every inch of the room. “No sign of one,” he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. “Nothing on the walls, nothing on the shelves.”

I scanned the space desperately, looking for anything that could help. That’s when Nick stopped, shining his light on a small, barely noticeable hole in the wall near the roof.

“What’s that?” he asked, looking up. “It doesn’t belong there.”

I stood beside him, squinting into the darkness. “Looks like… a hole. A really small one. Like someone drilled it.”

He glanced at me, then gestured to the hole. “Worth a shot. Take a look.”

Before I could protest he lifted me easily so I could peer into the hole. I angled my flashlight toward it, straining to see. And there it was. A tiny key, tucked just out of reach.

“I see it!” I exclaimed. “Give me a second.”

With some awkward maneuvering, I managed to fish it out using the thin edge of my flashlight. Once I had it in my hand, Nick set me down, and I rushed back to the girl. The key slid into the lock smoothly, and the restraints clicked open one by one.

“There,” I said softly, catching her before she slumped forward. “We’ve got you. You’re okay now.”

Nick helped me lower her gently to the floor. She was groggy but conscious, her eyes fluttering open. “We’re going to get you out of here,” Nick said firmly. “Can you walk?”

She nodded weakly, and together we got her to her feet. She leaned heavily on me as we guided her out of the room and back into the tunnel.

“Now what?” I asked Nick, my voice low. “We can’t go back the way we came, and so we take the other way?.”

“Then we keep moving,” he said, determination in his voice. “There’s got to be a way out. We’ll find it.”

I nodded, gripping the girl tightly as we started moving again, this time with more urgency. The clock was ticking, and whoever had set this up wouldn’t be happy to find we’d ruined their plans.

The tunnels felt tighter now, like the walls were pressing in with every step. Sections that should be open were now completely sealed off, the blockages smooth and deliberate. Whoever had orchestrated this had more time and resources than I wanted to imagine.

The girl—Sophie, as we’d learned—was starting to regain her strength, walking on her own now, though she still stayed close to me. The fear in her eyes hadn’t faded. Not that I blamed her. My own nerves were shot, and I wasn’t the one who’d been strapped to some twisted contraption.

Nick kept glancing around, his flashlight darting over every surface. “This guy didn’t just throw this together. He’s been planning this for a long time,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “And he’s got a serious grudge against Barba.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when the intercom crackled to life, the sound sharp and grating in the otherwise silent tunnel.

“Congratulations,” the voice drawled, its tone dripping with mockery. “You found one. Well done. Although, I must say, I’m disappointed—again. Where is Rafael Barba? Too busy hiding behind his desk to face the consequences of his failures?”

I tensed, my grip tightening on the flashlight. Sophie flinched at the sound, pressing closer to me.

The voice continued, growing colder. “Do you know what he did? How he abandoned her? She needed him, and he turned his back. My sister deserved better. She deserved justice.” There was a pause, heavy with emotion. “But don’t worry—I’ll make sure he pays. And if you don’t want to be trapped down here forever, I suggest you pick up the pace. Tick tock.”

The intercom cut out with a harsh click, leaving the tunnel in an eerie silence.

“Barba? This guy’s sister?” Nick said, frowning. “What the hell is this guy talking about?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my stomach twisting. “But we don’t have time to figure it out right now. We need to keep moving.”

Just ahead, another door came into view. This one was different—bars instead of solid metal, like a prison cell. My heart sank as we approached, and I saw what was inside. Two more teens, a boy and a girl, probably sixteen or seventeen. They were sitting on the ground, but when they saw us, the boy shot to his feet, gripping the bars.

“Help us!” he shouted, his voice hoarse but determined. “Please, get us out of here!”

“We’re going to,” I promised, stepping closer to the door. “Just hold on.”

Nick inspected the lock, a grim look on his face. “It’s not a key this time. It’s a combination lock.”

“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Alright, start looking. There’s got to be something here that tells us the combination.”

We began searching the area, scouring the walls, floor, and any nearby objects for a clue. The boy paced behind the bars, his fists clenching and unclenching. “You have to hurry,” he said, his voice cracking. “He said he’d come back soon.”

“We’re hurrying,” Nick said firmly, his flashlight sweeping over a patch of graffiti. “Just stay calm.”

“Easier said than done,” I muttered, glancing at Sophie. She was standing guard, her arms wrapped around herself as she kept an eye on the tunnel behind us.

As I turned back to the bars, something caught my eye—a faint scrawl etched into the frame of the door. Numbers.

“Nick, over here!” I called, shining my light on the marks. “It’s a sequence. Could be the combination.”

He rushed over, inspecting the numbers. “Alright. Let’s hope this works.”

With a quick nod, I reached for the lock, my hands trembling slightly as I turned the dial. The click of the lock opening was the most satisfying sound I’d heard in hours.

The door swung open, and the teens stumbled out, the boy clutching the girl protectively. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with relief.

“No time for thanks,” Nick said. “We’re not out of this yet. Let’s move.”

I led the group back into the tunnel, my heart pounding. We had three of them now, but the clock was ticking, and every step brought us closer to whatever the psycho behind this had planned.

…

Rafaels P.O.V

Olivia’s radio crackled to life, the static cutting through the tense silence. My breath caught as Finn’s voice came through, hurried but steady.

“We’ve got an open door,” he said. “Amanda and I are heading in now. Looks like it leads into the tunnels.”

A surge of adrenaline coursed through me. Finally, progress.

Sonny cam through, his voice urgent. “I’m on my way. Where exactly is it?”

“East 37th, near the old maintenance lot,” Finn replied.

Olivia nodded sharply, already moving toward the car. “We’re heading there too,” she said into the radio. Then, in one fluid motion, she flipped channels. “All available units, converge on Detective Tutuola’s location. Repeat, East 37th, old maintenance lot. Possible access to the suspect’s tunnel system.”

The gravity in her voice struck me hard. It wasn’t just procedure—it was personal. For all of us.

“We’ll find them,” Olivia said, her tone resolute as she glanced at me.

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. My thoughts were locked on Y/N and the hell she must be in right now. My mind raced with all the things I should’ve done differently. The choices I’d made that put her in this position.

Olivia touched my arm, grounding me for a moment. “She’s strong, Rafael. And she’s not alone. We’ll get them out.”

I nodded, swallowing hard, but the knot in my chest didn’t loosen.

As we sped toward Finn’s location, I forced myself to focus. Y/N was down there, likely facing God knows what. Regret wasn’t going to help her. Action would. And for once, I had to put aside the arguments, the courtroom maneuvers, and the carefully crafted words.

Because this time, words wouldn’t be enough.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

The sound of our hurried footsteps echoed down the tunnel, sharp and unrelenting. My chest ached with every breath, but I didn’t slow down. Nick’s hand rested on his gun as he moved beside me, his eyes constantly scanning the dimly lit space ahead.

Behind us, the teens huddled close, their voices low but insistent.

“Who are you, really?” the boy, Ethan, asked, his tone edged with suspicion. “We know he’s a cop, but what about you? What’s your role in all of this?”

I glanced back, offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I work with the DA’s office,” I said, keeping it simple. “We’re here to get you out and stop whoever’s behind this.”

“But why us?” the girl, Mia, pressed, her voice trembling. “Why is he doing this?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” I admitted, my voice steady despite the growing dread twisting in my gut. “But I promise, we’re not leaving without you.”

Before either of them could ask more, the intercom crackled to life again, the grating static sending a chill down my spine.

“Well, well,” the voice drawled, its tone a mixture of amusement and fury. “I have to admit, you’ve surprised me. Not only have you managed to find more of my little treasures, but it seems Barba and his merry band have decided to crash the party.”

My stomach dropped, and I exchanged a quick glance with Nick. His jaw tightened, his hand shifting on the grip of his gun.

“You’re ruining my plans,” the voice continued, its amusement fading into cold anger. “But no matter. I’ve played my part. I’ll see you all soon. Very soon.”

The intercom cut off with a sharp click, leaving us in heavy silence. For a moment, none of us moved.

Then Nick and I locked eyes, the same mixture of joy and dread mirrored in his expression. “They’re in,” I whispered, my voice breathless. “They’re coming for us.”

“But so is he,” Nick added grimly.

Without another word, we broke into a sprint, the teens scrambling to keep up behind us. My heart pounded, not just from the exertion but from the urgency driving me forward. If the team was in the tunnels, we had to find them—fast.

“Stay close!” I called back to the teens, glancing over my shoulder to make sure they were keeping up.

Every twist and turn of the tunnels blurred together, the oppressive darkness and endless sameness threatening to disorient me. But I didn’t stop, didn’t let myself think about how far we still had to go or what might be waiting around the next corner.

The only thought keeping me going was the hope that, somewhere in this maze, Rafael and the others were searching just as desperately for us. And that we’d find each other before it was too late.

…

Rafaels P.O.V

The damp, stale air of the tunnel pressed against me, thick and suffocating. Every step we took echoed against the concrete walls, amplifying the tension hanging in the air. But then we stopped short, met with a solid brick wall.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered, running my hand over the freshly laid mortar. It was still rough to the touch, and the smell of wet cement lingered.

Finn crouched down, inspecting the base. “This is new,” he said, his voice low but certain. “Whoever put this up didn’t do it long ago.”

Sonny spun around, spotting a couple of officers near the entrance. “You two!” he barked, his voice sharp enough to make them jump. “Get sledgehammers, now! I don’t care where you find them, just move!”

The officers bolted, and for a moment, the tunnel fell silent again except for the distant dripping of water. My frustration simmered dangerously close to the surface. Every second we stood here felt like a second wasted—a second Y/N and Amaro didn’t have.

“You think they’re past this wall?” I asked Finn, though my voice came out more desperate than I intended.

“They’ve gotta be,” he replied. “This guy’s trying to funnel them.”

Before I could respond, the officers returned, lugging two heavy sledgehammers. Sonny didn’t waste a moment, grabbing one and swinging it against the wall with a loud, echoing crack. Finn took the other, their combined efforts creating a rhythm of destruction that felt painfully slow.

Finally, with a groan of collapsing masonry, a section of the wall gave way. Dust billowed out, but I didn’t hesitate. I stepped through the opening, flashlight slicing through the darkness as the team followed close behind.

We hadn’t made it far when an intercom crackled to life. I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

“Well, well,” a voice sneered, its tone laced with mockery. “I have to admit, you’ve surprised me. Not only have you managed to find more of my little treasures, but it seems Barba and his merry band have decided to crash the party.”

I felt my chest tighten at the mention of my name. The venom in his voice was unmistakable, and the weight of his hatred settled heavily on my shoulders.

“You’re ruining my plans,” he continued, his amusement fading into something darker. “But no matter. I’ve played my part. I’ll see you all soon. Very soon.”

The intercom cut out abruptly, leaving us in a silence more oppressive than before.

“Was that…?” Olivia began, but I didn’t let her finish.

“It was him,” I said firmly, my voice cold. “Let’s move.”

I broke into a sprint, the others close behind. The adrenaline surged through me, pushing back the exhaustion creeping in from hours of searching. Every step was a mix of hope and dread, knowing that the voice wasn’t just taunting us—it was a warning.

Y/N was down here. Somewhere. And I wouldn’t stop until I found her.

…

Y/Ns P.O.V

We sprinted through the inky blackness, our footsteps echoing in the confined space. Each breath was a gasp, a desperate inhale against the burning in my lungs. But we couldn't stop. We were almost there.

Then, a new sound cut through the silence—heavy footsteps, deliberate and approaching. Nick's hand shot up, a silent command to halt. He raised his gun, his eyes scanning the darkness, a predator poised to strike.

Time stretched into an eternity. The footsteps grew louder, closer. And then, around the bend, they appeared: Olivia, Sonny, Rafael, Finn, and Amanda. Their faces, etched with relief, were a beacon in the darkness.

"Y/N!" Olivia's voice, raw with emotion, pierced the air. "Amaro!" Sonny's grin was wide, his relief palpable.

I stood frozen, disbelief washing over me. We had made it. We were free. But Olivia's voice, steady and grounded, pulled us back to reality. "We're not done yet. Let's get everyone out of here."

Nick nodded, his expression hardening, though the lingering relief was still visible. We pressed on, the tunnel seeming endless. Finally, we burst into the open air of New York City.

Nick's jubilation was infectious. He whirled me around, his laughter echoing in the night. "We did it, Y/N! We're out!"

I couldn't help but smile, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. But the respite was brief. Olivia's voice, serious and focused, brought us back to the task at hand. "We found the other teens. They're all safe."

A wave of relief washed over me, but it was short-lived. The mystery of the man behind this twisted game remained unsolved.

We recounted our ordeal to the team: the cryptic messages, the personal vendetta against Rafael, the constant references to a sister. Rafael's face, once hopeful, now bore the weight of a painful memory.

"I know who it is," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I know exactly who it is."

A heavy silence fell over the group. The man's identity, his motives, and his ultimate goal remained shrouded in darkness. The game was far from over.

…

Rafael P.O.V

I watched as Nick spun Y/N around, a wide grin plastered across her face. A pang of longing shot through me. I had wanted to be the one to celebrate with her, to hold her close and never let go. But I’d hesitated, a fear of rejection holding me back again.

The relief of finding Y/N alive and well was immense. She was more than just a teammate; she was a beacon of hope in the darkness. I’d yearned for her presence, her strength, her unwavering belief in me.

Now, as we stood outside the tunnel, the weight of the past settled on my shoulders. I turned to the team, my voice barely a whisper. “It’s Anya,” I confessed. “His sister.”

A hush fell over the group as they absorbed the revelation. Anya, a name whispered in the darkness, a haunting reminder of a life lost.

“She was one of the first victims passed across my desk” I continued, my voice trembling. “Smart, kind, and full of life. That was until this man she met on one of those random dating apps took advantage of her. She begged for months for me to put him away but there just wasn’t enough evidence and being as young and stupid as I was I didn’t want to prosecute a case I knew I couldn’t win. So I turned her away. A week later she jumped in front of a train in the subway. Her brother, Marco then came begging me to charge the man who attacked Anya with her death as well but again it was a case I knew I couldn’t win so I said no”

The memory of our last conversation, filled with accusations and heartbreak, still stung. I had failed her. The guilt had consumed me ever since.

“Rafael you can’t beat yourself up over it, you live and learn” Y/N gave me a small smile resting a hand on my arm.

“I could have stop all this before it got this far, he put you in danger, Nick in danger” I looked at her fighting back tears. Before the conversation could go any further a text message lit up my phone screen.

I know your weakness, Rafael.

I stared at the message, a shaky hand coming up to wipe the sweat from my forehead. When I finally looked up from reading and rereading the message my heart sank. Y/N was no longer standing next to me.

“Rafa what’s the matter?” Olivia spoke up seeing the look of panic on my face.

“Where is Y/N?” I asked turning to look behind me.

“She’s fine, she went with Sonny to get some water” Olivia pointed off towards Sonny’s squad car.

I took off in a sprint towards the car Olivia on my heels. Each step felt like a million miles. Sonny had been knocked out and left crumpled on the road. Olivia called for a paramedic while I stood shaking, spin around trying to look everyone were at once.

“No, no, no” I shouted, my phone lit up again catching my attention “Liv he has her”

Time for round two with the most precious prize.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight

Objection! Part 6

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

2.1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Sonny’s P.O.V

I woke up with a stiff neck and a sour mood. The cot in the bunk room wasn’t exactly built for comfort, but it worked when you needed a quick nap. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had taken up permanent residence there, and glanced at the clock on the wall. Two hours, tops. Not enough, but it’d have to do.

Dragging myself out of bed, I grabbed my jacket and headed back to the bullpen. The precinct was buzzing, the low murmur of voices filling the air. Olivia was leaning over Amanda’s desk, talking quietly, while Finn stood off to the side nursing a coffee. Rafael was pacing with his phone in hand, looking as sharp and stressed as ever.

But something was off. It took me a second to realize what it was. Or rather, who was missing.

“Where’s Amaro? And Y/N?” I asked, my voice cutting through the noise. Everyone paused for a moment, looking at me.

Finn was the first to answer, taking a sip of his coffee. “Think they went chasing a lead. Y/N was deep in something earlier. Looks like she had a breakthrough.”

I frowned. “A lead? Nobody told me about a lead. When’d they leave?”

Amanda shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Maybe an hour ago? She and Amaro were at the board, talking about something. Didn’t catch the details.”

That didn’t sit right with me. Y/N wasn’t the kind of person to rush off without looping someone in, but Amaro? If they went off together, it had to be important. My gut twisted, that bad feeling I couldn’t quite name settling in.

I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message to Y/N.

“Hey, where are you? Finn says you and Amaro went chasing a lead. Let me know you’re okay. Don’t make me come find you.”

I hit send and stared at the screen, willing it to light up with her reply. Nothing. The seconds dragged on like hours.

“Anyone hear from them since they left?” I asked, glancing around the room.

Rafael looked up from his phone, frowning. “No, but that’s not unusual. They could be following up on something.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, trying to convince myself that was all it was. But my gut wasn’t buying it.

Olivia must’ve noticed the look on my face because she walked over, her expression soft but serious. “Sonny, what’s going on? You think something’s wrong?”

I hesitated, weighing my words. “I don’t know, Liv. It just doesn’t feel right. Y/N’s not impulsive, not like Amaro. If they went after something, it must’ve been big. And if they’re not checking in…”

Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder. “Let’s give it a little more time. If we don’t hear from them soon, we’ll start tracking them down.”

I nodded, but the knot in my stomach wasn’t going anywhere. Something was wrong—I could feel it. And I couldn’t shake the thought that whatever Y/N and Amaro had gone after, they were in way over their heads.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

The air down here was suffocating, thick with the stench of mildew and something far worse I didn’t want to identify. My flashlight cut through the darkness, casting long shadows on the crumbling walls around us. Ahead, the tunnel forked into three paths, each one darker and more foreboding than the last. The labyrinth’s promise was clear: choose wisely or regret it.

Nick stood next to me, his flashlight aimed toward the middle path. His jaw was tight, his usual calm demeanor strained by the growing unease that matched my own. I could tell he didn’t like this any more than I did.

“So,” I said, trying to mask the anxiety creeping into my voice. “Which way do you think our mystery sadist wants us to go?”

Nick sighed, stepping forward to peer into the tunnels. “None of them, if he has his way. He’s probably banking on us wasting time or walking into a trap.”

“Well, he’s not wrong. It’s not like we’ve got much else to go on.”

He reached for his phone, his fingers moving quickly as he pulled up a map app. “Let’s see if we can make this easier. Maybe there’s an old city blueprint or something we can—” He stopped, frowning at the screen. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I glanced over his shoulder. The screen showed a single, dreaded message: No Service.

“Perfect,” I muttered, my frustration boiling over. “Because of course the psycho picked a spot with zero reception.”

Nick slid his phone back into his pocket, his shoulders tense. “We’re on our own here. No maps, no backup, no way out but forward.”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting real tired of forward being such a bad option.” I swung my flashlight across the tunnels again, trying to make sense of the choice in front of us. The left path was narrower than the others, with streaks of something dark smeared along the walls. The middle one had standing water at the entrance, the faint ripple of movement suggesting something alive down there. The right path looked the most “normal,” if you could call it that, but the air felt heavier when I aimed the light toward it.

Nick stepped back beside me, studying the same paths. “We can’t just pick one and hope for the best. There’s got to be a clue, something we missed.”

I turned in a slow circle, scanning the walls and floor for anything—anything at all—that might point us in the right direction. My eyes caught on a faint marking near the base of the left tunnel, a symbol scratched into the concrete. A spiral.

“Hey, look at this,” I said, crouching down to get a closer view. “It’s the same symbol that was on the last clue. The one on the note.”

Nick knelt beside me, studying it. “You think it’s pointing us this way?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just another trick.” I glanced down the tunnel, the beam of my flashlight barely cutting through the gloom. My stomach churned at the thought of what might be waiting for us.

Nick stood, his voice firm. “We’ve got to make a call. If we wait too long, he’s going to start wondering why we’re not moving.”

I nodded, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Alright. Left it is. But if this spiral ends up leading us straight to whatever nightmare this guy’s cooked up…”

Nick gave me a grim smile. “Then we do what we always do—figure it out and fight our way through.”

I tried to take comfort in his steady presence, but as we stepped toward the left tunnel, my gut was screaming that this was exactly where he wanted us to go.

…

Sonny’s P.O.V

Five hours. Five hours since anyone had last spoken to Amaro or Y/N. I’d been staring at the board, trying to piece together what she might’ve seen. My coffee had gone cold hours ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Every clue, every detail—none of it was adding up, and it felt like the answers were just out of reach.

“They’ve been gone too long,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. My voice broke the silence in the bullpen, making everyone glance up. “What the hell did Y/N see?”

Finn, leaning against the edge of his desk, finally spoke up. “The only thing all the dead ends had in common? Each spot had an entrance to an old, unused sewer system. That’s all I got.”

I blinked, my mind racing as I turned back to the board. Sewers. I should’ve seen it earlier, but everything else—the dead ends, the letters, the missing teens—had been such a distraction.

Before I could say another word, Rafael stood abruptly, his face pale as if something had just clicked in his mind. “That’s where they are,” he said, his voice sharp with certainty. “The tunnels.”

Olivia straightened, her expression turning grim. “You’re sure?”

“Think about it,” Rafael said, gesturing to the clues on the board. “The guy keeps sending us to places connected to these tunnels. He’s been teasing this the whole time. If Y/N figured it out, and Amaro went with her…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “That’s where they are.”

I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair, adrenaline kicking in. “Then we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go.”

The bullpen came to life around me. Finn grabbed his coat, muttering something about knowing the nearest access point. Olivia called for patrol officers to stand by in case we needed backup. Rafael looked like he was trying to keep his calm, but I could see the tension in his hands as he adjusted his tie.

“Alright,” Olivia said, her voice steady but firm. “We stick together. If they’re down there, we find them and bring them out.”

I nodded, clutching my phone tightly as we headed for the door. Every step out of the precinct felt like it took too long, but the thought of Y/N and Amaro down in those tunnels kept me moving.

I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut, the one that had been eating at me since I woke up. They were in trouble—real trouble—and if we didn’t find them soon… I didn’t want to think about what might happen.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

My legs ached, and my back wasn’t doing much better, but the adrenaline kept me moving. The tunnel seemed endless, the walls closing in more with every step. Nick and I had been at this for what felt like hours, shining our flashlights into every crack, crevice, and too-small offshoot we passed. Each one was a dead end. We’d check, just in case, but nothing. No teens. No way out. Just more darkness and the echo of our footsteps.

The tunnel finally widened ahead, revealing another fork—this time, two paths stretched into the gloom, one veering left, the other right. I stopped, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, and turned to Nick. “Well, here we go again. Left or right?”

He didn’t answer immediately, scanning the floor and walls like he was trying to read the mind of the psycho who’d set this up. I joined him, squatting down to inspect the ground for any markings, scuffs, or clues that might point us in the right direction.

That’s when I saw it. A faint scrape on the floor to the right, almost like something heavy had been dragged through. My stomach sank as I followed it with my flashlight, the beam catching on a glimmer of something small and metallic further down.

Nick was already moving to grab it, crouching down to examine it. When he stood, his expression was grim. He held up a bracelet—one of those cheap charm ones you find at gift shops. A tiny heart charm dangled from it, the kind a teenager might wear.

“This has to belong to one of them,” he said, his voice low. “The missing kids.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me. The right path wasn’t just another tunnel—it was leading us to one of them. Maybe alive. Maybe not.

But then there was the left path, dark and foreboding, with no clues at all. The logical part of my brain screamed at me that it had to be the way out, the next step in the sick game we’d been pulled into.

Nick’s voice pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. “So, what’s it going to be? Do we keep looking for a way out, or do we go after the kid?”

My heart pounded in my chest as I looked between the two tunnels. Left meant survival, maybe a chance to regroup and call for backup. Right meant walking headfirst into who-knew-what—probably a trap—but also a chance to save someone.

I turned to Nick, my voice steadier than I felt. “If that bracelet’s theirs, we can’t just walk away. We go right.”

Nick studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. But if this is another dead end, we’re turning around and finding a way out.”

“Deal.”

With one last glance down the left path, I turned toward the right, gripping my flashlight tighter as we stepped into the unknown.

…

Rafael’s P.O.V

We reached the third entrance, and it was the same as the others. Locked. Rusted. Impenetrable. The padlock stared back at me like it was mocking me, its cold steel glinting under the faint streetlight. I clenched my fists, my chest tightening with frustration.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered under my breath.

Olivia moved to inspect the lock, her flashlight steady in her hand. “This one’s been sealed for years,” she said, her voice calm. Too calm. “We’ll call Finn, see if he’s had better luck.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure, the helplessness, the damned guilt—it boiled over. I slammed my fist into the door, the sharp clang reverberating down the empty street. The pain in my knuckles was immediate, but I didn’t care.

“Rafael!” Olivia grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “What the hell are you doing?”

I let out a shaky breath, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “This is my fault, Olivia. I should’ve stopped her. I shouldn’t have let her go chasing clues on her own, not even for a minute.”

“You didn’t ‘let her,’ Rafael,” she said firmly. “Y/N’s capable. She’s smart, and she’s with Amaro. She’ll be fine.”

The mention of Amaro made me tense involuntarily, and Olivia noticed. She always noticed. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then she tilted her head, her tone softer but pointed. “This isn’t just about her being out there, is it? Why are you so worried about Y/N?”

I looked away, staring at the graffiti-covered wall beside the door, trying to will my emotions back under control. But it was no use. The truth had been clawing its way to the surface for months now, and there was no hiding it anymore.

“You care about her,” Olivia said, more an observation than a question. “No, it’s more than that. You’re in love with her.”

The words hung in the air between us, undeniable and suffocating. I ran a hand over my face, letting out a bitter laugh. “Does it matter, Liv? She doesn’t know. I never told her. And now—” My voice caught, and I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

Olivia’s expression softened, her voice gentle but insistent. “You’re going to tell her. When we find her, Rafael, you’re going to tell her how you feel.”

I shook my head, the thought of it almost laughable. “What if we’re too late? What if—”

“No,” she cut me off, her tone firm. “We’re going to find them. Y/N and Amaro are out there, and they’re alive. You don’t get to give up on them, and you don’t get to give up on this. On her.”

I looked at her, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “And what if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Olivia’s smile was small but knowing. “You’re smarter than that, Rafael. You know she does.”

I stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. She wasn’t just saying it to reassure me—she meant it. And for the first time in hours, a spark of hope flickered to life inside me.

“Alright,” I said quietly, the promise forming in my mind before I could stop it. “When we find her, I’ll tell her.”

Olivia nodded, her hand briefly squeezing my shoulder before she stepped back toward the car. “Good. Now, let’s go find another entrance. We’re not stopping until we get them out of there.”

I followed her, the determination in her voice pulling me forward. No matter how many locked doors stood in our way, I wouldn’t stop. Not until I saw Y/N again—and told her everything.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight

Objection! Part 5

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

2.1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

For months the days where just as busy as that first day. Some days were filled with paperwork, some days were spent entirely at the courthouse. More and more I was working independently of Rafael only crossing paths briefly to hand off files or to discuss a case. Rafael had even organised me my own office. As much as I enjoyed the newfound freedom within the DA’s office, I was also missing being so close to Rafael. We still had a little meetings, casual lunches and nights out with the SVU team, but it became less of us and more the whole team.

Finally, a case came up that allowed me to work closely with Rafael again. What started as a runaway with no connection to SVU and turned into a possible stranger abduction had become a massive manhunt for a yet unknown person who was enjoying taunting Rafael in the form of letters with clues which to places with more clues that lead to dead ends. 2 months and hundreds of mans hours had been put into finding this person and we were still no closer. No name, no witnesses, no evidence and 7 missing teenagers. We had rearranged the entire SVU pull pen pushing all tables to the sides and filling the middle of the room with drawing boards. I was currently sat staring at the clues we had been sent. The first ever letter we received from this guy told us that we would find the missing teen just by following his clues. Yet all the clues had led to dead ends. Something wasn’t adding up, something didn’t make sense.

“Y/n we have to go update the mayor” Rafael said coming to a stop next to me.

“Yeah, yeah coming”

“You’ve been staring at these notes for ages” Rafael sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Somethings bothering me about them. I feel like we’ve missed something” I say eyes not leaving the boards in front of me.

“You’ve been working for almost 40 hours, lets update the mayor then you can go home and get some sleep.” Rafael held out a hand to help me up.

I took Rafael’s hand and stood, though my eyes lingered on the boards a second longer. The sketches, cryptic letters, and scribbled coordinates seemed to mock me, each taunt from our unknown suspect ringing louder in my mind. But he was right—I needed a clear head if I was going to see whatever was lurking in the details.

As we made our way to the mayor's office, I replayed the clues in my mind, hoping a fresh perspective or a conversation might help connect the dots. This case had turned into something personal for everyone involved, especially for Rafael, whose frustration was mounting with each letter that slipped through our fingers and led to nothing.

In the elevator, he broke the silence. “You know, we’re close. I can feel it.”

I glanced at him, seeing the exhaustion mirrored in his expression. But there was something else too—a simmering determination that made me feel as if we were on the brink of a breakthrough.

“You think he’s messing with us on purpose?” I asked, voicing a theory that had been nagging me.

“Absolutely. He’s got a plan,” Rafael said, his jaw tight. “And he wants us chasing our tails.”

The elevator doors opened to reveal the marble hall leading to the mayor’s office, but before we could step out, Rafael's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and his face darkened.

“It’s another message.”

A chill ran down my spine as he opened the new text. Another cryptic line: "When you reach the end of the labyrinth, the prize will be in plain sight. If you just open your eyes." It was as if the perpetrator could sense our frustration, even knew that we were about to speak with the mayor.

“Another clue,” I whispered, looking over Rafael’s shoulder. But something was different this time. The tone—it wasn’t taunting. It was almost... instructional.

Rafael took a deep breath, as if steadying himself. “Looks like we’re not going home anytime soon.”

“No,” I said, a spark of determination reigniting. “But I think we’re finally starting to understand his game.”

As we turned back toward the precinct, abandoning the meeting with the mayor, my exhaustion melted into resolve. I’d follow every hint, trace every step. This time, I was determined to beat him at his own game.

…

The precinct was quiet, nearly deserted, with only the faint hum of overhead lights filling the silence. Midnight was approaching, and most of the team had taken off for a quick break. Olivia and Rafael had left to grab food for everyone, Amanda was somewhere in the break room nursing yet another coffee, and Sonny was curled up in the bunk room, catching some much-needed rest. Finn had gone out hours ago to chase down a lead.

I sat in front of the board, staring at the latest clue we’d pinned up: "When you reach the end of the labyrinth, the prize will be in plain sight. If you just open your eyes."

A familiar presence broke the silence beside me as Nick ambled over, arms crossed, eyes scanning the chaotic tangle of clues, locations, and scrawled notes we’d collected over the past two months. He’d been watching me closely for a while, occasionally throwing out theories, but mostly letting me sift through my own thoughts.

“Still chewing on that one?” he asked, tilting his head toward the new clue.

I nodded, barely looking at him. “Yeah. This one’s different. It’s… almost like he’s taunting us less, like he’s trying to lead us to something.”

Nick furrowed his brow, clearly considering it. “Or maybe he’s getting cocky, slipping up a little.”

I tapped my pen against my notebook, scanning the list of locations we’d already searched, the cryptic clues leading us from one dead-end to another. I was exhausted, but something kept gnawing at me, like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch. We’d been to all these places, followed every lead, yet somehow, I felt like I’d been staring right at the answer without seeing it.

My mind flashed back to the first letter—the one he’d sent that started this whole twisted game. "You'll find them if you look beyond the obvious."

A realization hit me, cold and electric. “Nick,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “What if we’ve been overthinking this? Maybe the answer isn’t at the end of some long, winding path—it’s been right in front of us all along.”

Nick leaned in, interest sparking in his eyes. “You think he’s hidden something we’ve overlooked?”

“Yes. Or maybe he’s been hiding in plain sight, knowing we’d miss it because we were too focused on finding something complex.” I scanned the board again, every location we’d been to flickering through my mind. Parks, subway stations, alleys, all public spaces with no clear connection other than being… central.

My eyes widened. “Nick, what if he’s been using these places to form a pattern, like a… map?”

Nick straightened, a gleam of understanding lighting his face. “So you think he’s been leading us in circles—maybe around somewhere specific?”

“Exactly.” I felt my pulse quicken. “I think he’s been taunting us by leading us right around his hiding spot, and he’s getting a thrill out of knowing we haven’t found it. But I need to check, and I can’t explain why just yet.”

I turned to Nick, urgency thickening in my voice. “Come with me. We have to go now, but don’t tell anyone. Not until we’re sure.”

He looked at me, searching my face, his jaw tightening as he weighed my request. Then, without another word, he grabbed his jacket off the back of a nearby chair. “Alright, I’m with you.”

We slipped out of the precinct, moving quickly and quietly down the stairwell and out the back exit. The chill of the night air hit me as we stepped onto the empty street, adrenaline sparking through my veins.

“You have any idea where we’re headed?” he asked as we walked.

I gave him a small smile, my confidence growing. “I do. I just hope I’m right.”

And as we headed toward our destination, a strange sense of clarity washed over me. The missing piece was within reach; I could feel it. This time, we weren’t going to let him slip through our fingers.

The streets were empty as Nick and I navigated our way through the quiet alleys, following my hunch toward one of the oldest and most forgotten parts of New York’s sewer system. With each step, the city above felt more distant, the buildings looming like silent witnesses to our descent. We slipped through an unmarked, rusted gate, making our way down a narrow, crumbling stairwell that reeked of mold and decay. Somewhere ahead of us was an answer—a clue, maybe even one of the missing teens—but right now, every instinct was screaming that this was a mistake.

“Are you sure about this?” Nick murmured as we approached a door at the end of the passage, barely visible in the dim light of my flashlight.

“Positive,” I whispered back, my voice tight with anticipation and dread. The door was dented and corroded, with a single piece of paper pinned to it. I lifted my flashlight, illuminating a simple, handwritten message: Welcome, Rafael Barba.

A shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the name, the ink bold and deliberate. “He was expecting Rafael,” I whispered, pulling the note down with a trembling hand.

Nick glanced around, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun. “Looks like he planned something special.”

I crumpled the note, stuffing it in my pocket. “We’re here now. Let’s see what he had in mind.”

I pushed the door open, and we stepped inside, the smell of damp concrete and rust thickening in the air. Before I could react, the door slammed shut behind us with a heavy clang, echoing through the tunnel as it locked into place. Nick spun around, yanking on the handle, but it didn’t budge.

“It’s locked,” he muttered, frustration flashing in his eyes.

I felt my stomach twist as an unsettling silence settled over us, thick and foreboding. And then, a crackle overhead—a faint hum of static that made my heart pound. Somewhere in the darkness, an intercom system buzzed to life, and a voice filled the room, low and edged with disappointment.

“Well, well,” the voice drawled, with an eerie calmness that sent chills down my spine. “I was expecting Rafael Barba. But instead, he sends his… assistant.” A pause, as if he were savoring the surprise. “Not what I had hoped for. But I suppose you’ll do.”

I clenched my fists, anger simmering beneath my fear. “If you wanted Barba, maybe you should’ve faced him directly, instead of hiding behind your little clues.”

The voice chuckled, a cold, amused sound. “You misunderstand, my dear. This was never about facing Barba—it was about creating something he couldn’t ignore. A labyrinth, an elaborate little puzzle designed just for him. I wanted to watch him sweat, watch him chase his own tail. Just like I had to do when I begged him to take my sisters case” He paused, his tone turning playful. “But now, it seems I’ll get to see you and your friend test your wits instead.”

Nick tightened his grip on his flashlight, his jaw clenched. “We’re not playing your game.”

“Oh, but you already are,” the voice purred. “In fact, you’re at the very heart of it.”

I scanned the room, my pulse racing. The walls were lined with passages, each one barely visible in the dim light, twisting and disappearing into darkness. The intercom crackled again, the voice practically dripping with satisfaction.

“I’ve left you a series of clues,” he continued, “if you can find them, that is. Each path you choose will lead you deeper into the labyrinth. Or… to a dead end.” He laughed softly, the sound echoing around us. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll even get out alive.”

Nick shot me a look, his expression deadly serious. “What’s the plan, then?”

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “We play along. For now. But we stay sharp and look for a way to turn this back on him. He thinks he’s got us trapped, but that’s his first mistake.”

The intercom crackled again. “Tick-tock, Y/N. Time is running out. I’ll be watching—don’t disappoint me.”

The line went silent, leaving us in darkness, with only the soft, persistent drip of water echoing through the tunnels. I gritted my teeth, the weight of the situation sinking in. He wanted a game? We’d give him one he wouldn’t forget.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee

Objection! Part 4

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

3.2k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

I kept a steady pace as I navigated the crowded sidewalks, my breath visible in the cool morning air. 7:24 AM. Twelve blocks to go, but I was determined to get to the precinct on time—if not early. Today, I had to show up sharp, like the professional I aimed to be.

A quick glance at my watch made me quicken my stride. I wasn’t just going to make it; I was going to be early. Prepared. Polished. Ready for anything. By 7:55, I rushed through the precinct doors. In the elevator, I took a moment to smooth myself down, hoping to hide any trace of the near sprint across New York.

Stepping into the bullpen, I nearly tripped over my own feet. Rafael emerged from Olivia's office, laughing at something, Olivia walking beside him.

“Morning, y/n. Nice of you to join us,” Rafael greeted me with an easy smile.

“Good morning, Rafael. I thought you said to meet at 8?” I asked, glancing at my watch.

“I did. And you're right on time,” he said, his grin widening. “We’ve got a perp waiting in interrogation. Let’s not keep him waiting.”

Before I could ask any questions, Rafael placed a hand on the small of my back, steering me toward the interrogation room. Inside, he motioned for me to take a seat, then sat down beside me. Across the table, I recognized Rita Calhoun. The man next to her, clearly the suspect, shifted nervously in his chair, eyes darting between the three of us.

The look on his face could only be described as pants-shitting terror.

"Who’s this? A new detective eager to get their toes wet or…"

"ADA Y/n Carisi," I cut Rita off before she could finish. "I’ll be assisting ADA Barba and SVU for the foreseeable future."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rafael smirk.

"Not related to Detective Carisi, I hope," Calhoun glanced between Rafael and Olivia, a smirk tugging at her lips. "We all know he unfairly detained my client. This could be seen as a cover-up."

"Your client walked out of his room into the common area during a search, holding a sizable bag of cannabis. I fail to see where Carisi went wrong," Rafael replied, leaning back in his chair, his smirk widening. "But let's not dwell on the past. All we want is information on your roommate. If the information’s good, we can look past the drugs."

Rita looked at each of us, searching for confirmation that we agreed with Rafael. I took the file Olivia had placed on the table, slid it toward the man—whose name I still didn’t know—and hit record.

"You can start by stating your name, the date, and that we’ve reached an agreement," I said, offering him a reassuring smile.

He glanced nervously at Calhoun, swallowed hard, and began.

"M-my name’s L-Lester Hollis. It’s the 15th of January, 2013," he stammered.

For the next two hours, Lester spilled everything he knew about his roommate. Anthony Cutler, a man with a disturbing fondness for young girls. And Lester, it seemed, had a fondness for spying on people. If it weren’t for the drug dealing, he might’ve made a decent detective. The information he handed over was more than Olivia had expected; she stood in the corner, stunned by the sheer amount he laid out for us on a silver platter.

When Lester finally ran out of things to say, he glanced between us, still just as terrified as when we began.

"I-I-I don’t know any more, I swear," he stammered, eyes pleading with me.

"I believe you," I said, leaning back from the table, still processing everything I’d just heard.

"So... am I free to go?" He looked nervously between Rita and the rest of us.

"Calhoun, why don't you show your client out," I said, turning to Rita. "And don’t forget—make sure he’s available for trial."

Rafael smirked as Rita stood, pulling a shaky Lester to his feet. Olivia followed them out, still in a daze from the flood of information.

Once the door shut behind them, Rafael turned to me, smiling. "I must say, y/n, I’m impressed. You're the first new lawyer I've seen go toe-to-toe with Rita Calhoun so confidently."

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, a twinge of panic rising.

"Not at all. In fact, I admire your bravery—it’ll serve you well. Just be sure you don’t over reach or get too overly confident."

He stood, motioning for me to follow him out of the room. "For now, we've got to head to Rikers. Olivia’s perp from yesterday needs a visit, we’ve got court at 1, and after that, we’ll go over the new cases Carisi left for us."

I nodded, falling in step behind Rafael as he strode confidently out of the precinct.

…

Sonny’s P.O.V

I shuffled nervously at my desk, tapping my pen against the surface. I’d seen y/n come in, only to be immediately pulled into interrogation by Barba and Liv. My eyes stayed glued to the door, waiting for them to come out. Ten minutes turned into an hour. One hour into two. I could hear Amanda and Amaro talking nearby, but their words barely registered.

When the door finally opened, I jumped in my seat. Rita walked briskly across the room with Lester in tow, Liv following close behind. Lester looked terrified—definitely not a good sign. The fact that Barba had stayed behind with y/n only made the knot in my stomach worse.

I was about to get up and head toward the interrogation room when Barba finally emerged, y/n walking quickly beside him, grinning from ear to ear. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and turned back to my half-abandoned report, trying to focus.

“Gee, looks like I might be out of luck with that one,” Amaro chuckled from his desk across from me.

“God damn it, man. Always taking my money,” Fin groaned, standing up to slap a $20 bill into Amaro’s outstretched hand.

"Wait—were you betting on whether you could sleep with my sister?" I snapped at Amaro before I could stop myself.

"Actually, he was betting on whether she’s crushing on Barba," Amanda chimed in with a knowing smile. "And from the way she was looking at him..."

“Barba? My sister?" I scoffed, crossing my arms. "No way. Sure, she admires the guy, but he’s got like 15 years on her.”

"Denial’s not just a river in Egypt," Fin chuckled.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

I sat quietly, my fingers laced together on my lap, as Rafael conducted the interrogation. We were inside the cold, sterile walls of Rikers, the oppressive weight of the place settling over me. The inmate sat across from us, his hands cuffed, a mix of desperation and calculation in his eyes. I had been briefed, but not in enough detail to know the full extent of the charges. That lack of certainty kept me from speaking, from throwing my voice into the tense negotiation. I wasn’t about to risk making a deal if the information didn’t live up to the inmate’s demands—and there was a lot on the line.

From what I could gather as the conversation progressed, the man was angling for a reduced sentence and a transfer to a more secure cell. In return, he dangled the promise of a list—a list of men and women involved in a child trafficking ring, exploiting kids for cheap household labor. The thought of it made my stomach churn. The details were grim, and I could feel my pulse quicken with every word that passed between him and Rafael. But I forced myself to remain composed, knowing this was just the beginning of what I’d have to deal with in this line of work.

Rafael, as always, was unfazed. His posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable as he leaned forward, elbows on the table, engaging the inmate with a calm, almost disarming professionalism. His focus was clear—he wasn’t interested in the middlemen or low-level traffickers the man was offering. Rafael wanted the head of the ring, the person running the entire operation. The way he methodically steered the conversation in that direction, never losing his patience or control, was impressive to watch.

But the inmate, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, insisted that he didn’t know who ran the operation—only who to contact when someone wanted to request children. The idea that this could be a known process, with specific contacts for placing “orders” like they were talking about goods instead of lives, made my skin crawl. I could feel the disgust rising in me, a sick feeling coiling in my gut. I wanted to speak, to call out the horror of it all, but I knew that wasn’t my place, not yet. I was here to learn, to observe, and to support Rafael in whatever way he needed. For now, that meant silence.

As the interrogation dragged on, I found myself studying Rafael more than the inmate. He didn’t flinch. Not once. His questions were sharp, deliberate, cutting through the inmate’s evasions like a scalpel. He pushed, but never too hard—just enough to keep the man talking, to pry open the cracks in his defenses. And while I sat there, fighting the urge to fidget or let my expression betray the revulsion I felt, Rafael remained a picture of control. It amazed me. How did he do it? How did he manage to listen to this kind of filth without letting any of it get under his skin? I imagined it was something he had learned over years of practice—years of dealing with the worst humanity had to offer.

Meanwhile, I could feel the disgust written all over my face, my clenched jaw, the tightness in my chest. I wasn’t as good at hiding it, not yet. Maybe I never would be. But I knew this was something I’d have to learn. If I wanted to make a difference, if I wanted to be the kind of lawyer who could stand in these rooms and fight for justice, I couldn’t let the horror of it all show. I couldn’t let them see how much it affected me.

Still, it was hard. Harder than I expected.

The exchange finally ended without a clear resolution. The inmate remained insistent—he didn’t know the head of the operation, just the contacts. Rafael leaned back in his chair, his expression still unreadable, as if the conversation hadn’t rattled him in the slightest. For him, this was just another day on the job, another piece of the puzzle to be fit into place.

For me, though, it was a stark reminder of what this job would demand. Not just the legal knowledge or the courtroom battles, but the emotional endurance. The ability to look evil in the eye and not let it break you.

As we left the interrogation room, the weight of the situation lingered with me. Even after we’d passed through the heavy steel doors of Rikers, the silence between Rafael and me felt thick with unspoken thoughts. I stayed quiet, still processing everything I’d heard, still trying to understand how to do this—how to keep myself from being consumed by the disgust, the anger, the frustration.

Rafael didn’t speak either as we climbed into the car. But as we drove toward the courthouse, his voice finally broke the silence, soft yet firm.

"I know you're probably thinking about a hot shower and scrubbing your skin raw," Rafael broke the silence, his voice soft. "Your skin’s crawling in disgust, but... this is the job."

He glanced at me, and I met his eyes.

"I know," I said, offering a small smile. "And it's a job I want to do—to the best of my ability. I’m not running away."

"Good," Rafael smiled back. "Because out of all the lawyers I've worked with, you're the first one I truly believe deserves to be here. You're going to do well, I know it. Which is why I want you to take over as first chair today."

My heart skipped a beat. "Oh no, Rafael, I can’t—especially not against Buchanan."

"If you can stand your ground against Calhoun, you can handle Buchanan." He gave me a reassuring nod. "I have faith in you."

We pulled up in front of the courthouse, the taxi coming to a halt amidst the chaos of flashing cameras and reporters. Rafael climbed out first, stepping onto the curb with his usual confidence, then offered me his hand. I took it, feeling the reassuring warmth of his grip as he helped me out of the car. The sight of the courthouse steps, now swarmed with media, made my stomach tighten. Buchanan was already in the thick of it, standing tall in front of the cameras, his smarmy grin plastered across his face as he used this case to grandstand, soaking up the attention like a seasoned showman.

Seeing him surrounded by microphones, using a case as serious as this for his own ego, sparked something hot inside me—anger, maybe something more. I stole a glance at Rafael, who, of course, noticed. He shot me a knowing smile, as if he could sense the fire building in me.

Buchanan always played dirty, but this—turning the courthouse steps into a circus—felt like a new low. My jaw clenched. Today, I would make sure he lost. Spectacularly.

Rafael placed a steady hand on my back, guiding me up the stone steps. The media, sensing our arrival, immediately swarmed toward us, the noise escalating as reporters shouted for statements, their cameras flashing like a storm. I could hear them calling Rafael’s name, asking about the case, but he waved them off with a practiced nonchalance. He never let them faze him, and I admired that calm. We kept moving forward, cutting through the chaos, when Buchanan spotted us.

His eyes lit up with curiosity as they flicked over to me. He leaned into his performance, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Barba! Who’s this beautiful woman you’ve got on your arm? Have you gotten such a big head that you need an assistant to keep you in line now?"

The reporters snickered, and Buchanan laughed at his own joke, like the slimy opportunist he was. I felt the heat rise in me, but instead of letting it rattle me, I channeled it. I turned on my heels, straightening my spine.

"ADA Y/n Carisi, Mr. Buchanan," I said, my voice clear and firm. "And I look forward to taking you down a notch in court today—with ADA Barba as my second chair."

A ripple of surprise passed through the media. The cameras and questions instantly shifted from Barba to Buchanan, now the one under the spotlight, as reporters scrambled to get his reaction. They pounced, asking if he knew anything about me and whether he was prepared to face off against a fresh ADA. Buchanan’s smirk faltered just a touch, but Rafael stood to the side with his signature cheeky grin, clearly enjoying the shift in power dynamics.

"See?" Rafael chuckled, falling in step beside me as we continued up the steps. "I told you—you can handle Buchanan."

"The man’s a slimeball," I muttered, shaking my head, though a smile tugged at my lips. "He’s good at his job, I’ll give him that, but still a slimeball. I’m actually looking forward to putting him in his place today."

"I have no doubt you will," Rafael said with a knowing smile, opening the courthouse doors for me.

The cool, quiet air of the courthouse washed over us as we stepped inside, a stark contrast to the chaos of the media circus outside. It was time to get to work. The case ahead of us wasn’t complex—small enough that the media frenzy around it seemed excessive, but we both knew Buchanan loved playing to the crowd, no matter the stakes.

We walked side by side into the courtroom and took our places at the assigned table. Across from us, Buchanan sat with his defendant, the confidence practically dripping off him. I could feel Rafael’s eyes on me, his silent support clear. He leaned back in his chair and gave me a look that said, You’ve got this.

When Judge Donnelly entered the room, I felt a surge of relief. I knew her reputation—fair, tough, and not one to suffer grandstanding lightly. I hit the jackpot. She would detest Buchanan’s cocky demeanor, and from what I’d gathered about the case, she’d likely be sympathetic to the victim. All I needed to do was present a solid argument, and I was confident we could sway the jury.

Judge Donnelly settled into her chair, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room. “Mr. Barba, I see you’re taking second chair today,” she said, arching a brow in Rafael’s direction.

“Yes, your honor,” Rafael replied with a nod.

“And who’s taking lead?” She looked over at me, her gaze expectant.

I straightened in my seat, feeling a mixture of nerves and determination. “ADA Y/n Carisi, your honor,” I said, injecting as much confidence into my voice as I could muster.

Judge Donnelly eyed me for a moment, her gaze steady and appraising. “Don’t get cocky now, young blood,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. She then turned to Rafael. “Mr. Barba, do you trust her to prosecute this case?”

“I do, your honor,” he said, flashing me a supportive smile.

She nodded. “Alright then, let’s get this show started.” She leaned back in her chair and motioned for me to begin.

And so, the battle began. I rose to my feet, heart pounding but adrenaline fueling me. I launched into my opening argument with passion, presenting our case to the jury. I made sure to emphasize that while the victim was a sex worker, that didn’t make her any less deserving of justice. No one deserved to be assaulted. I highlighted how we could prove, without a doubt, that this wasn’t the first time the defendant had committed such an act.

Buchanan, predictably, went low. He pushed his tired argument about sex workers being unreliable witnesses, claiming the victim had only pressed charges because his client hadn’t paid the agreed amount. It was despicable, and I could feel my frustration mounting every time he opened his mouth. But I stayed focused, refuting his points and driving home the evidence. The jury wasn’t buying his argument, and it became clear, as the hours passed, that Buchanan had lost them.

By 6 p.m., the jury returned with a verdict: guilty.

A wave of triumph washed over me. In the heat of the moment, I almost threw my arms around Rafael, but I caught myself just in time, opting instead for a firm handshake. Our client, however, wasn’t as restrained. She hugged both of us tightly, tears of relief streaming down her face before practically running out of the courtroom, finally free of her nightmare.

Rafael and I gathered our things and headed back to his office. It was late, but despite the long day, I was still buzzing with energy, the adrenaline pushing me forward. We had more cases waiting, and I was eager to dive in—at least until the high wore off. Then, I knew I’d want nothing more than to head home and collapse.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee

Just want to let you know i’m really loving your Objection series ☺️ so hard to find new Rafael Barba series now on here which is sad so thank you for still writing for him, i can’t wait to see how the story unfolds 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Aw thank you and your very welcome. I noticed there wasn't much Barba stuff anymore and had this idea pop into my head during one of my SVU binges. I'm hoping to have this story run over seasons 16 to 22 so we'll see Amaro leave, everything that happened with Dodds right up until Kathy with a few surprises along the way. Consider it the universe next door to the show.

Objection! Part 3

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Coffees and food in hand, I made my way back to the district attorney's office. As I walked through the door, I heard a familiar voice call out behind me.

"Y/N, Rafa is really putting you to work, isn’t he?" Olivia smiled as she caught up and fell into step with me.

"Lieutenant Benson, hardly. This is just a thank you for everything, and something to tide us over while we look over a case together," I smiled back at her.

"Oh, please, call me Liv," she laughed. "I hope my team didn’t scare you off."

"No, they're wonderful! If anything, I’m mad that Sonny didn’t introduce us all earlier."

"If it makes you feel any better, we all thought he only had one sister until Fin overheard him talking with Rafa about getting you a job. Then he tells us he has four sisters!" Olivia laughed, holding open Rafael's office door for me.

Rafael looked up from his desk, raising an eyebrow when he saw us all smiles and laughter.

"Getting along well, I see," Rafael remarked, keeping his face neutral.

"Yeah, just talking about Sonny," I smiled, placing a coffee and a sandwich in front of him. "This is a thank you for saving me at the courthouse earlier."

"Oh, no thanks needed. We all get lost there our first day," Rafael smiled. "Now, Liv, what can I help you with?" He turned his attention to her.

"The guy we arrested yesterday wants to make a deal. He’ll give us all the other guys he knows who are holding girls in exchange for a reduced sentence and protective custody," Olivia quickly switched to business mode.

"Tell him I’ll be in to discuss a deal first thing in the morning," Rafael sighed.

"Great, I’ll leave you two to whatever it is ADAs do," Olivia smiled, walking out of the office.

Rafael waved a hand at her as she left, then picked up a pile of papers from his desk and brought them over to a coffee table on the other side of the room. He motioned for me to sit down on the lounge next to the coffee table before retrieving his coffee and sandwich. He handed me some paperwork from the pile and directed me to read while he ate. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him trying to eat in manageable bites while fighting the urge to just devour the entire sandwich. It was clear this was his first meal of the day—or at least since breakfast. I felt a pang of guilt for not getting something more substantial. Mental note: find a good takeout place nearby to keep this man fed. Sonny would probably know a few spots.

I turned my attention back to the paperwork, my heart sinking as I read the case summary and saw who the defense attorney was.

"You're in for one hell of a fight here, Barba," I looked over at him.

"You got all that from just reading the case outline?" Rafael asked, taking the final bite of his sandwich.

"That, and the fact that the defense attorney is Buchanan. It's glaringly obvious from the outline what tactics he'll try to use," I sighed.

"So, you know about Buchanan?" Rafael smirked.

"And you, Cabot, Novak, Langan, Calhoun, Ellis... If they’ve worked in New York, I’ve likely studied them," I admitted, a little embarrassed.

"Know thine enemy," Rafael chuckled. "So walk me through it."

I nodded and began breaking down the case for Rafael. If Buchanan wasn’t the defense attorney, I’d say it was open and shut. But with the victim being a prostitute, it was a given that Buchanan would try to use that as a justification. Clearly, Rafael had already anticipated this, as there was an in-depth criminal record for the defendant and even evidence to make the victim look more like a saint. It was a strong case, and I told Rafael so—the real hurdle was Buchanan. We spent hours going over every piece of evidence, discussing everything, every possible defense, every argument that could be made. By the time we finished, the city outside was lit up with its nightlife. The clock on the wall read 9:30. Rafael had a massive smile on his face.

"You're every bit as good as Carisi said you would be," he smiled.

"I have to be," I replied with a small smile.

I could tell he wanted to press on my answer but held back, choosing to nod instead.

"So, you're happy to keep working for me?" Rafael asked.

"It would be my pleasure," I smiled.

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow at 8 at the 16th because, for every bit of good you are, you somehow managed to forget to pick up the files I asked for," Rafael smirked, my eyes widening in realization.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I completely forgot! Sonny is still working; I can run over to the 16th now and grab the files," I rushed to grab my phone, but before Rafael could speak, it rang. "Speak of the devil. Sonny, I was just about to call you."

"Great minds think alike. You still burning the midnight oil with Barba?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, I’m here with Barba. Why?" I asked, glancing at Rafael.

"Great! We’re all taking a break for dinner and wanted to see if you wanted to join us at Forlini’s?"

"That actually sounds amazing! We were just wrapping up here, so we’ll meet you there. Also, Sonny, could you bring along any cases you need us to look over? Please? I completely forgot to pick them up earlier," I added, feeling sheepish.

"Uh oh, first-day foul," Sonny laughed. "But yes, I can be an awesome big brother and bring them with me."

"Thank you, I owe you one," I hung up the phone and turned back to Barba. "The team is headed to Forlini’s for dinner and asked us to join."

"Sounds great to me," Rafael smiled.

We began packing up all the paperwork, slotting it back into the various files they had come from. Once everything was returned to its place, Rafael placed the files into a cabinet by his desk, grabbed his jacket, and slid it on while holding the office door open for me. I walked out as Rafael grabbed his briefcase and fell into step beside me, chatting about how, if he hadn’t been asked out for dinner with the team, he likely would have gone home and crashed without eating. I had to laugh and agree that I would have done the same.

I’d never been to Forlini’s, but Sonny had brought me food from there a few times, so I was looking forward to actually eating there for once. Rafael waved down a cab and told the driver where to go. When we pulled up in front of Forlini’s, Rafael had his wallet out and paid for the cab before I could protest. He climbed out first, holding the door open for me. My heart raced—he really was a gentleman.

Forlini’s was crowded, and Rafael placed his hand on the small of my back to guide me through the crowd. He said something about knowing where to find the others, but I couldn’t hear him over the noise. We came to a stop in front of a group of tables in the far back corner where Sonny, Fin, Amanda, Nick, and Olivia were already sitting, drinks in hand, laughing away.

"Should you be drinking if you’re still working?" Rafael chuckled, taking a seat and motioning for me to sit next to him.

"The only one here still working is Water Boy over there," Fin smirked, pointing at Sonny.

"Yeah, someone’s been neglecting their paperwork," Amanda laughed.

Sonny gave them a "stuff off" look before turning to me.

“Come è andato il primo giorno?” Sonny asked, leaning back in his chair. (How did the first day go?)

“È stato fantastico, perché?” I replied with a smile. (it was great, why?)

“Volevo solo assicurarmi che Barba ci andasse piano con te,” he said, a hint of concern in his voice. (I just wanted to make sure Barba went easy on you.)

“Ti preoccupi troppo,” I giggled, reaching for a menu in the middle of the table. (You worry too much)

It was at that point I noticed the entire table had fallen silent. Everyone was looking at Sonny and me with wide eyes, and Rafael looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. Clearly, Sonny hadn’t mentioned to anyone that he knew Italian.

“You speak Italian too?” Rafael was the first to break the silence.

“Uh, yes. Sonny never told any of you he could speak Italian?” I asked, looking around the table.

“No, he didn’t,” Olivia said, turning to Sonny. “What does Rafael mean by ‘you speak Italian too’?”

“Oh, I also speak Spanish,” I shrugged casually.

“Wow, Carisi, your sister’s amazing,” Nick smiled. “Veo que nos vamos a llevar bien, señorita.” (I can see we’re going to get along well, missy.)

“Hey, Amaro, eyes off my sister, alright?” Sonny pointed a finger at him, half-joking.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the two of them, and the rest of the table joined in. Rafael, however, seemed to be glaring at Nick. I decided it would be best to wait until it was just Rafael and me before asking what his problem with Nick was. I joined the conversation at the table, and the whole team treated me like I’d been working with them for years. I felt at ease with them faster than I had with anyone else. For the first time, I felt like I’d found where I belonged.

When dinner was over, Sonny handed the files I had left behind to Rafael and excused himself to return to the office. The others wandered off to their various homes, and Rafael offered to see me home, even though it meant traveling further than his own place. He hailed us another cab and held the door open while I climbed in. I gave the driver my address before turning to Rafael.

“Okay, spill it,” I said, watching him.

“What?” Rafael looked at me, caught off guard.

“You don’t like Nick. Why?” I asked directly.

“He’s a playboy. Ever since his wife divorced him, he’s been running through women like he needs them to breathe,” Rafael said, looking out the cab window. “I just don’t want to see him do the same to you. He’s already slept with Amanda and half the female officers in the 16th, so I wouldn’t put it past him to target you next.”

“I can take care of myself, but thank you for your concern,” I smiled, appreciating his protective nature.

The cab came to a stop in front of mine and Sonny’s apartment building. I wished Rafael goodnight before making my way inside, desperate for sleep before I had to be at the 16th at 8 a.m.

Objection Part 2

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

2.8k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Note: The end of this is pretty meh, I had to get 3 wisdom teeth removed and I'm still pretty out of it on pain meds so maybe I'll fix it later, maybe I won't who knows.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Early the next morning I was up and at the table reading my way through the paperwork. It was normal job forms and a job outline. It was simple enough I just had to do what Barba wanted. I was so excited to get to work Barba, the man was considered a God in the land of lawyers. His no-nonsense attitude, his exceptional win rate and the iconic three piece suits. He was not a man you wanted to make your enemy. Being honest I had a bit of a crush on him during Law School having watched footage of a lot of his cases as extra study. How best to learn if not by watching the professionals at work. I had laid out my outfit the night before. A grey pencil skirt with matching suit jacket and a white button up with black heels. The plan was to get the paperwork done, shower, get dressed and head for Barba’s office at the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office building. I didn’t want to show up right on 3 and seem over eager but I didn’t want to show up super late in the day and seem completely uninterested either. The plan was to show up right on 3:30, early but not too early.

The closer it got to 3:30 the more nervous I got and the harder it was to concentrate on the paperwork. Sonny had told me before he left that Barba wasn’t fussed about the paperwork being completely collect so long as I brought might degree or a copy of it along.

“You learn more about someone by talking to them, then by reading about them” Sonny had said trying to mock the man.

I got the paperwork finished at 11:30 and added a copy of my degree to the pile of paperwork before heading for the shower. I spent so long in the shower trying to simultaneously calm myself down and talk myself up that I was certain I had used all of Sonny’s hot water.  You’re going to ace this, Barba is going to love you, this is the beginning of your dream career. By the time I had built up the courage to get out of the shower, get dressed and leave the house it was 2:30 so I knew even with traffic I would get to the DA’s office just before 3. Earlier then I wanted to be but then again it would give me time to find Barba’s office.

I stood in front of the building for a few minutes trying to work up the courage to enter, having lost all mine the second I step in front of the building. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and was about to push open the door when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Hay y/n you made it” Sonny smiled walking up behind me with a familiar 3-piece suit wearing man beside him.

“Hi Sonny, Hi ADA Barba, I’m y/n, Sonny’s sister” I held my hand out to the man.

“Sonny has told me all about you, a fellow Harvard graduate I hear?” Rafael smiled grabbing my hand in a firm yet gentle handshake. Intimidating yet handsome, I thought.

“Yes, although I only graduated 9 months ago so I still have lots to learn but if what Sonny says is anything to go on, I’m sure you’ll make a fine teacher” I smiled back.

“Carisi better not have given away all my secrets I hope” Rafael raised an eyebrow at Sonny.

“Not at all” Sonny chuckled tucking his hands in his pockets.

Rafael stepped forward and opened the door motioning for us to follow him in. He led us through a series of hallways and up elevators. I knew for a fact I was going to get lost a few times before I work out my way around this building. Sonny and Rafael where chatting about a case and that Sonny wouldn’t stick around long that he just need to grab the warrant and go. Rafael stopped briefly to speak to a woman sitting at desk who quickly gave a thank you and hurried off out the door. He then turned and opened the door next to her desk motioning us in. Stepping inside I was greeted with a large fancy corner office. A large flat screen TV adorned one wall and a fireplace lay unused on the opposite end of the room to a large heavy desk on which rested a brass name plate engraved with the name ADA Rafael Barba. I let out a whistle as I looked around the space.

“Fancy corner office” I looked between Rafael who was smirking and Sonny who was looking at me horrified.

“Okay Carisi here is the warrant you need tell Liv, I’ll send y/n here down with Amandas as soon as I can find a judge not on lunch to sign it” Rafael handed Sonny a piece of paper which he took and headed for the door.

“Barba take it easy on my sister, okay?” Sonny gave him a serious look as he walked out the door. Rafael just nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets as Sonny left.

“In your dreams” Rafael chuckled when he was sure Sonny was out of hearing range. “So y/n I take it you read the job outline?” Rafael turned to me.

“Yes I…”.

“Good you start now.  I have seven files here I need run down to the courthouse all of which we’ve worked out plea deals for, by the time you get back from that I should have the warrant signed for you to take down to SVU and you can pick up our latest lot of cases from them while your there” Rafael hung up his jacket and moved towards his desk to grab the files as he spoke.

“I am a qualified lawyer not some glorified secretary” I took a step towards him now mad.

“Yes, and it is your job as a qualified lawyer to help me complete parts of my job whatever it may be. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but crime is at an all time high in this city and as a result my case load is also at an all time high, so your job weither you like it or not is to do as I say. If I ask you to file paperwork you’ll do it, if I ask you to stand in for me at court you will do it, if I ask you to deliver a warrant you will do it. If you don’t think you can do that there is the door, feel free to leave” Rafael came to a stop in front of me holding the files out to me. I took them and walked towards the door to shocked to say anything in response.

“Great, I’ll get a desk brought up for you in the next couple days” Rafael smirked and walked back over to his desk. I had just stepped through the door when I heard him mumble to himself. “Es una luchadora” (She’s a fighter)

“Por supuesto” I giggled before walking away. Leaving Rafael shocked at his desk.

…

Rafael’s P.O.V

Once y/n had walked off and I had regained my composure I immediately rang Carisi.

“Detective Carisi” He answered

“You never told me your sister speaks Spanish”.

“I can’t tell you all her secrets”.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

 I’d made it to the courthouse and was madly looking for where I was supposed to drop the paperwork. I had walked up to the reception desk, and they had given me some long confusing directions on how to get to records where I was supposed to drop the files. I’d asked if there was someone who could walk me down to records, but everyone was busy. So, I wandered around aimlessly trying to find a sign or anyone who could point me in the right direction. I must have spent the 40 minutes just walking up and down hallways looking for someone to help me or a sign to guide my way. I was about to call it quits and try to make my way back to reception when it occurred to me that I probably wouldn’t be able to find my way back out there either and it would just lead to more aimless wandering. I found a bench in an empty hallway and just sat down, calling it quits. I dropped the pile of files beside me and dropped my head into my hands. Barba was going to fire me; Sonny would be so disappointed in me after everything he done to get me this job. I was letting down a lot of people today. I heard footsteps enter the hallways but refused to look up hoping whoever it was would just walk on by me. The footsteps however had other ideas. They came to stop right in front of me. I removed my hands from my face to be met with a familiar pair of black dress shoes. I sighed, this way it, my life was over.

“How did you end up over here at the judges’ chambers?” Rafael chuckled.

“I got lost” I looked up defeated at the man who now had a cocky smile on his face.

“You do realize you walked straight past the door to records the second you walked into the courthouse, right?” Rafael held out a hand helping me stand up from the bench before grabbing the files.

“Nope I never even noticed” I sighed again.

“Come I’ll walk you down there” He smiled handing me the files.

As Rafael lead us back towards the front of the courthouse, he told me about he had gotten lost looking for records on his first day too and I could rest assured he wasn’t going to fire me over such a small mistake.

“And here we are records” Rafael came to a stop in front of a pair of large double doors with records written into the frosted glass on the door. “And since I have you here is the warrant its needs to go to Rollins and uh the other Carisi and make sure to tell them that it because it’s for a shared house…” “It’s for the named persons room and common areas only” I interrupted him.

“Exactly, when you get back I would like your help going over a case we’re prosecuting starting tomorrow, always best to have a second set of eyes to make sure we’ve covered everything” Rafael smiled.

“Of course, thank you for everything” I gave him a smiled before walking into records.

It took me almost an hour to fill in the paperwork. Each form I filled in I got quicker and quicker at filling in. It was basically filling in a summary form of what was in the files and once I knew where to find the information it made filling in the form quicker. The last form only took 5 minutes. Coming out of the dark records the bright light of the city day almost blinded me. I let my eyes adjust and made my way to the SVU squad house. It only occurred to me when I was in front of the building that the only person, I knew there was Sonny. I had never met any of the team. I mean he told me all their names and had given me a basic description but if he wasn’t here, I was screwed. The lovely receptionist immediately had me picked as a Carisi and directed me to the SVU bull pen. I stepped into the lift and went to press the button to the right floor when a hand shot into the door. A Cuban man around Sonny’s age stepped into the lift.

“I’m sorry didn’t mean you scare you” He smiled at me. “Heading to the SVU bull pen?” He looked down at me.

“Yes, you too?” I smiled back.

“Detective Nick Amaro” He held out his hand.

“Y/N Carisi” I smiled shaking his hand.

“Carisi has told us all about you it’s so good to finally meet you, does this mean your officially working with Barba now?” He asked turning to face me.

“Yeah I am, I was actually just coming up to drop off a warrant” I held up the piece of paper.

The lift dinged, opening on our floor. Nick placed a hand in the small of my back and guided me out of the lift and towards the SVU pull pen.

“Have you met anyone else here?” Amaro asked walking me through double doors into a busy room.

“You’re the first person here I have met” I chuckled.

“Well then let me introduce you to everyone” He smiled. “Guys can I grab your attention for a minute” Amaro came to a stop in the middle of a group of desk.

A blonde woman looked up from one desk and an African American man who was walking away turned around to look at me.

“ADA Y/N Carisi allow me to introduce to Amanda Rollins and Odafin Tutuola” Nick motioned to each person “Fin, Amanda this is Y/N Carisi our new ADA along side Barba”

“Yeah, we got that Nick” Amanda smiled.

“There is no way your related to Carisi your way to pretty to be related to him” Fin held out his hand.

“Aw thank you, Sonny has told me so much about you all and I can’t wait to work with you, which is actually why I’m here, I have a warrant for you Detective Rollins” I smiled handing her the paper.

“Oh, please just called me Amanda no need to be so formal” She smiled taking the paper.

“No problem, Amanda, Barba wanted me to remind you that unless the other members of the shared house give you permission the warrant covers the suspects bedroom and the common areas only”.

“Great, Carisi’s in interrogation with Liv at the moment so as so as their out we’ll set off” Amanda looked over the warrant.

“So how are you finding working with Barba?” Fin asked crossing his arms leaning against his desk.

“His actually really sweet, I mean we had a small disagreement this morning but other then that he has been great to work with”.

“Barba? Rafael Barba the grumpy Cuban?” Nick looked at me in shock.

“Yeah, why? How does he treat you?” I looked between them confused.

“His always so grumpy and snappy with us, he knows how to do his job though I’ll give him that” Fin said.

“The only person his nice to around here is Liv and we all know why that is” Amanda said looking between Nick and Fin.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“He has had a crush on Liv for as long as he has worked with her but the man just doesn’t have the balls to ask her out” Nick chuckled.

“Sounds like Sonny and his crush” I tried to deflect feeling a small pang of jealousy in my chest.

“And who is he crushing on Amaro?” Fin chuckled.

“What are we talking about” Sonny walked over to the group.

“Carisi why have you never introduced us to your sister she’s amazing” Nick smiled at me.

“I’ve had my reasons” Sonny gave Nick a look that told him to stay away from me. “What are you doing here anyway?” Sonny looked at me.

“I was just dropping off that warrant for you and Amanda Barba told you about earlier” I smiled at him.

“Great your getting along well then?” Sonny asked.

“Great he has been really good to me, I think I’m going to do well with him”.

“That’s great! Look I’m not going to make it home for dinner tonight probably won’t make it home at all so don’t worry about cooking for me okay” Sonny smiled

“After the day I’ve had I’ll probably just grab something on the way home anyway” I shrugged.

“Why are we all standing around?” A tall dark haired woman walked over to the group.

“Sargent Bensen? I’m ADA Y/N Carisi I’ll be working along side ADA Rafael Barba” I held out my hand to her.

“Please call me Liv” She shook my hand. “How are you finding working with Rafa so far?” she smiled.

“I was actually just telling the others that he has been really nice to me” I could see why Barba would be crushing on Olivia, she was gorgeous. “Anyway I should get back to his office”

I gave Sonny a quick hug and waved to everyone else as I walked out of SVU. Once back out on the street I made the decision to go grab a couple of coffees for myself and Barba to say thank you to him for saving my lost ass before heading back to his office to work on this case he wanted my help on.

Objection!

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Next Chapter

The day had finally come. I had successfully graduated Harvard Law. My Mum, Dad, brother Sonny and sisters Bella, Teresa and Gina had made the trip out of Staten Island to witness the graduation. The youngest of the Carisi clan, I choose to follow Sonny into the criminal prosecution career track. Sonny had recently transferred to the Elite Manhattan Special Victims Unit and was also studying at Fordham Law ‘to make myself a better detective’ he had said. Sonny and I, despite our 11-year age gap, were completely inseparable. He had been the one who got the rest of our family together to be here today. Sonny is the whole reason I was graduating today. He had encouraged me even after Mum and Dad had voiced their disappointment at my choice.

I had barely made it off the stage when Sonny had scooped me up in his arms and began spinning us around. He had the worlds biggest smile on his face and repeated over and over again how proud he was of me. Our parents and sisters soon joined us.

“I’m going to cook a big feast tonight just for you” Mom smiled.

“You always cook a big feast, that’s every meal for you” Dad scoffed.

“Oh shush you cranky old man” Mum swatted at him with open hands.

We all laughed at the pair and walked off to the cars. We had a long drive ahead of us back to Staten Island. After dinner I would then have to drive back into Manhattan with Sonny. I had come here with Sonny yesterday from his apartment in Manhattan and had no choice but to go back there with him tonight. Now I had graduated I had no clue what I was suppose to do. I had been applying for positions in almost every law firm in New York with no luck. I’d even applied for the DA’s office with no success. I knew Sonny would let me live with him for however long it took for me to find my feet. He had insisted on it in fact when I’d moved back to New York last month. This had been Mum and Dads complaint. I would waste my time on a piece of paper that would lead me nowhere. I’d even put in an extra two years on a masters degree just to increase my chances.

“Hay kiddo is everything okay?” Sonny spoke up “You’ve been silent for the last 45 minutes and you look worried”

“Maybe Mum and Dad were right” Was all I could get out.

“About what? Don’t tell me your doubting yourself now” Sonny smiled over at me.

“I spent the whole month applying for positions with no luck, all I’ve managed is a minimum wage bodega job. I can’t rely on you forever Sonny, you have your own life, the woman at work you said you fancy, while I just wasted six years to get a piece of paper that’s turning out to be useless. I wanted to be up there with the greats like Alexander Cabot and Rafael Barba” I sighed picking at my nails.

“Y/N Carisi always worrying” Sonny chuckled “Give it time you’ll get something soon; you don’t need to rush”

“I’m not trying to rush I just don’t like not knowing” I threw my hands up.

But wait I did. For 9 months I applied for any law jobs that came up. I worked my ass off at the bodega, saving every penny I could to get out of Sonny’s flat. Then one day it happened. I had been busy cooking dinner, a simple chicken alfredo, when Sonny basically smashed his way through the door. I hadn’t expected him home until much later. I knew they were having trouble catching the Central Park Strangler as the papers had dubbed him. A horrid man who would stalk lone women in central park, strangle and rape them. Sonny had said he was escalating an attack every night, he hadn’t killed anyone yet but Sonny was sure he would soon. He had made me promise not to leave the flat alone at night until they got the guy. He had left DNA at every scene so as soon as they got him he was going away for life. No chance of a plea bargain, no way to weasel out of it. Sonny had a huge smile on his face as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m guessing by the smile on your face you caught your guy? That or you finally grew a pair and asked Amanda out and she said yes” I chuckled.

“Yes, well no, but yes” Sonny stumbled over his words while he hung his coat up and took his shoes off.

“Well which is it?” I laughed.

“We caught the guy, Barba had him shipped to rikers an hour ago” Sonny put his brief case on the bench and dug through it producing a manila envelope. “I also got this for you” he handed the envelope to me. 

I wiped my hands off on my apron and took the envelope. I turned it over in my hands taking note of the District Attorneys office logo in the corner. I disregarded it as just being an envelope Sonny had handy. I turned the envelope over once more and unwound the string keeping it closed. Inside was a stack of paperwork maybe 30 pages thick. Written on top of the first sheet in bold letters were the words OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. I looked up shocked at Sonny before looking back at the papers. We are pleased to offer you a position as an assistant to ADA Rafael Barba at the New York District  Attorney Office.

“Oh Sonny this is amazing thank you”  I pulled him into a hug.

“It was nothing I just called in a favour when I heard Barba needed some extra help”  Sonny chuckled “All you need to do is fill in the forms and drop them off to Barba tomorrow. He says he’ll in his office from 3 onward”.

“I’ll fill them in first thing but for now lets eat!”.

“Oh you mean the food that’s burning on the stove?” Sonny chuckled.

“Shit!” I spun back to the stove but it was pointless the chicken had already started turning black and the pasta was almost boiled dry.

“I’ll order out and you can trying to salvage my pot and pan” Sonny laughed walking off phone in hand.

Sonny Carisi question

Does Sonny speak Italian? We know he speaks Spanish we've heard that. Sonny is Italian-American so I want to assume he does. I'm working on my Barba x Reader, the reader is Carisi's youngest sister and I was thinking I would have them have little secret sibling conversations in Italian. I speak fluent Italian, French and Spanish so incorporating it would be no issue I just don't want to use it if Sonny doesn't speak Italian.

What do we want to read next?

I'm hoping to have Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 8 and A Well Kept Secret Part 3 (final) up by Sunday so what would we like to see once I've done that.