A young Detective Cragen stood looking at a small girl as she sat completely still on a chair next to his desk. She had been brought in after her mother was found in Central Park with a large cut to the back of her head.
The small girl wouldn't say her name, nor would she respond to questions of any natural. Don didn't even know if he'd seen her blink the whole time she's been here. But he had sent for some help from his wife, because he was sure she'd be able to get something out of this little girl.
"It's really late, Don. Why did you call me in here? Did you forget your wallet at home or something?" Marge Cragen questioned, and her husband shook his head.
"No. I need some help though." He sighed, and her eyes went wide with concern.
"Are you okay?" She whispered. Her husband has been sober for 3 years, and she was hoping that he hadn't fallen off the wagon.
"I'm fine. I'm still sober. But do you think you could go talk to her?" He asked, as he pointed in the direction of the young girl.
"Why? Is she a victim?" Marge questioned slowly, as she calmed down a bit as the fear of her husband being drunk was erased from her mind.
"We found her near her mother. We don't know anything about them, but we need some information. She won't talk, and she won't move." He replied, and she nodded slowly before hugging her husband tightly.
"Never scare me like that again, okay?" She warned, and he nodded.
---
After a few minutes, Marge walked over to the small brunette and pulled her husband's chair up in front of her. She reached a hesitant hand out to her, and pushed some dark brown hair away from her face, to only see a dark purple bruise.
"Sweetie, what happened?" She questioned slowly, and the small girl stayed still, barely moving enough to breath.
Marge stared at the little girl, and she noticed that the dark purple bruise wasn't the only one on her face, there were several other ones, but they were almost gone.
"Okay, well I'm Marge. I'm not a cop, so I can't get your Mommy in trouble if she is the one that hurt you." Marge whispered, as she moved back a bit from the girl.
"She doesn't mean to hurt me." The girl spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I bet it's on accident right?" Marge questioned, and the girl nodded.
They sat in silence for a few moments, before Marge started to question again. She didn't want to push too hard, because then the girl might put up her walls again, but if she pushed just a little more each time, she might warm up to the idea of getting help.
"Can I know your name? We have to have your name so your Mommy can get help for her cut." Marge urged, and the small girl looked up at her, as tears welled in her eyes.
"I'm Olivia... I don't think my Mommy would want me to tell you her name. She might get in trouble." She sniffled, before she started to cry.
Olivia wanted to help her mother so badly, but she didn't want to get hurt again. She was tired of going to preschool with bruises covering her body, and she was tired of her mother beating her when the teacher called to question her on the bruises.
"Your Mommy needs help, Olivia, sweetie. If you tell me her name, I'll take you to get some breakfast, okay? I bet you are starving. Being so brave can make a person hungry." Marge smiled softly, and Olivia sniffled as she wiped a few tears from her cheeks with her small hand.
"My Mommy's name is Serena Benson. And I am hungry." She spoke, adding the last part quickly so Marge wouldn't forget. Not only was Olivia hungry from being in the precinct the whole night, she was hungry because her mother was punishing her with a new tactic; starvation.
---
Marge and Olivia went out to breakfast, before heading back to the precinct. Don kept looking at the door, waiting for his wife and the small girl to come back. He wanted to know if his wife was successful in getting anymore information from Olivia, or if they just ate.
He was very surprised when his wife walked into the squad room with Olivia in her arms. The small girl had her legs wrapped tightly around Marge's waist, her arms were wrapped around her neck, and her head was nuzzled into her shoulder.
"Her mother beats her and is starving her, Don. She needs help, and she can't go back there. She might die." Marge whispered, as she met up with her husband. She still had her arms wrapped around the girl, and she had no plans on putting her down. She'd sit up the rest of the night and hold Olivia until she woke up, if that meant she would feel safe for a little longer.
"Okay. We need to document her injuries, Marge." Don spoke, as he reached out for the girl, but his wife stood back.
"Wait till she wakes up. She told me that she gets too scared to sleep. That when she sleeps, her mother gets angry and hurts her even more. This poor girl needs to sleep." She replied, passionately.
Don nodded before leading his wife over to his desk. She sat in the hard chair that Olivia had been sitting in early that night, and she held her for hours.
---
Olivia changed from being a scared little girl, to a bubbly, smart, and caring girl. She thrived in her foster home that she found when she met the Cragens.
She learned to trust, and she learned what real love is. It wasn't defined as something only a real parent could give her, because even with Serena she never found love. But now, as the foster daughter of Don and Marge Cragen, she found that she was loved, and that she loved them.
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