Chapter 3: Learning

                                    

                                          
The walk from the 13th precinct to the OCME was around 15 minutes long, but for Barba, it felt like seconds. Seconds filled with information about her companion and, surprisingly, himself. After arriving at the precinct, he decided to leave Julie there, not wanting to go inside, risking an encounter with familiar faces. However, as he was walking down the street, the fast steps and his name being called, made him turn around, seeing Julie already out and smiling. Always smiling. 
She learned that he was Cuban and a single child and that he grew up in the Bronx with his mom and abuelita. He learned that she was Mexican, first-gen and that her parents crossed the border through the Rio Bravo after spending some time in Tamaulipas. She learned about his scholarship to Harvard and his past job at SVU, and he learned that she already had a doctorate in forensic science. 
'So, why forensics? don't get me wrong, but you don't look like your average M.E.'. Julie laughed. 'People often tell me that. Truth be told, I wanted to be a lawyer first; however, in my first semester, I discovered that I was more interested in how the evidence was collected rather than how to use it in court. So, I changed my major. Also, at the time, many Latinas disappeared or were murdered. No le interesamos a la policía (the police don't care about us), so many cases were closed or not even taken. I decided to focus on research to stop the backlog and hopefully help to solve cases for our people'. 
There was something so powerful about Julie's motivation and the love for her job that generated a warm sensation in Rafael's chest. 'How do you deal with all that?' 
'Well, I don't take my work home. Also, I have many hobbies: I like to do yoga at Central Park on the weekends, I play the guitar for my church's choir, I try to learn my mom's recipes, I go to a place to dance every Friday night, I babysit for my neighbors at the barrio...  even at work I try to listen to music or talk with my bodies...'
'Wait, what?'
'I am Mexican. Death has a different meaning for us. When I see a body on my table, I like to talk to them, ensuring they're in a safe place now. If they have tattoos with a band or artist name for example, I try to play music from said artist. They have suffered enough, and I try to make their journey as pleasant as possible while at the same time providing them justice.'
'That is... so beautiful. I've never thought of that.'
'And you? How did you cope with all of those cases all those years?'
'Scotch mainly'. Barba laughed, but Julie didn't. 'Really? You never talked to anybody about the cases? How much are you carrying with you?'. The smile faded on Rafael's lips. He knew that all his years working at SVU had taken a toll on his mental health. It was a silent agreement that everyone on that precinct had. He could see the same darkness in everybody's eyes and the repercussions on their personal lives as well.  And while the detectives had psychological evaluations when the cases became too much or too personal, nobody thought of the all-cool, all-distant A.D.A. He knew why: usually, district attorneys don't get too involved; they limit the interactions with the victims only to prepare them for trial. He used to be like that. But Liv and her squad had to come into his life and turn him into this compassionate, unconditional, and sensible person (on the inside, well-hidden, of course). And with that, every non-guilty verdict, every mistrial became a punch more and more difficult to avoid each time. 
He didn't notice Julie holding his hand, giving him small squeezes of reassurance. 'You are a very brave man, Rafael. You have given justice to so many. Let some kindness come into your life; you deserve it. I have to go now, but don't hesitate to call me if you ever need someone to talk to... or teach you how to dance your worries away'. Julie took a pen from her purse and wrote a cellphone number on Rafael's hand, alongside a happy face.