Shaken 6/?
Title: Shaken 6/?
Pairing: SVU A/O
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Alex and Olivia are not my characters. I try to do them justice (no pun intended), though.
Spoilers: For this chapter... Fallacy and Angels
Summary: This story opens immediately after the ending of Fallacy, so it starts out intense. Alex and Olivia help each other make sense of the world of SVU, and their roles in it. They inspire, and grapple with grey areas of their lives and jobs.
AN 1: Thank you to ncruuk for beta-ing this story 3 years ago, and to scatterthebones for critique
AN 2: If August rolls around and I'm not done posting, there will be huge time gaps between chapters
AN 3: I'd love critique. p.s. I'm ignoring the canon of P.C. b/c it doesn't fit (and I started writing this before it aired)
Chapter 6
Sorry this story has jumped around. Two cases are being established... this chapter should flow better.
Bellvue Hospital Intensive Care Room - Friday Night
“You’d be alone a lot, but you’d have plenty of things to do. Lawyers and media will meet with you during the day.” Alex swallowed the lump in her throat. Cheryl’s eyes were so bloodshot and swollen Alex couldn’t tell they were brown anymore, even though she sat right beside her.
“I don’t want to see you.” Cheryl’s voice cracked from her injuries and from emotion, and she turned away.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said. She felt a need to smooth the edge of Cheryl’s bed sheet. “But you can’t give up.”
“What do you care?” Cheryl’s voice cracked and Alex knew she’d just offended her. Cheryl tried willing away her tears because she didn’t want Alex to see her vulnerable.
“I don’t think it’s fair to house you in a men’s prison.”
“Well, you put me there…” It hurt to talk.
“You killed Joe, and I was the prosecuting lawyer.”
Cheryl looked up at the ceiling. She hated Alex, she hated her body, she hated everything about the miserable, fucked up existence that had landed her in a hospital barely able to move. “I’m a freak,” she said.
There was a long silence. Her words hung in the air, daring Alex to argue. ‘You were born a beautiful woman. You can’t challenge me,’ they silently said.
“You’re transgendered.” Alex responded.
“And I can’t fucking live…” she had to pause, “…a normal life. Eddie’s dead…” pause, “No man wants to be with me…” pause, “I’m a rape target in prison…”
Alex rested her chin on her hand and closed her eyes to gather her focus as Cheryl spoke.
“Are you happy now?... You got Joe’s killer…”
“You shouldn’t have killed him," Alex said slowly. "And, you should be in a women’s prison.”
“I’m in the wrong body. If I’d been born a girl… I wouldn’t be here.” Cheryl felt the hot, melting rage and helplessness in her words spread throughout her chest, despite her condition.
Alex swallowed. “You’ve never had it easy, Cheryl,” she said, and met her gaze. Cheryl didn't want to trust Alex, even slightly.
“Look,” Alex continued. “You have a chance to do the right thing. And I will help you, and I will get others to help you. If you fight this, you’ll make it easier on yourself and fairer for other transgendered people who end up in your situation.” Cheryl looked back up at the ceiling, and when Alex sensed an opening the prosecutor in her went for the kill. “You don’t hate them too, do you?”
“No… of course not.”
“Then go into protective custody when you’re well enough, and work on this case with me.”
Cheryl paused for a moment. She was tired and she needed rest, and deep down she knew Alex was right. “OK,” she finally answered.
***
Dishes Restaurant - Saturday lunch
“Can the U.N. get Hassan Almasi’s family out of Sudan?” Olivia asked and crossed her arms against her red sweater. Alex watched her look at the floor as they waited to pick up their orders. Olivia had been quiet when she told her about seeing Cheryl on their walk over, and Alex wondered what was going on.
“Why? What happened last night?” They got their trays and sat down by a window. It was a slow Saturday, so when Olivia called Alex with a question about the U.N., Alex asked her to lunch. Dishes was an upscale take-out deli. The ever-changing menu, tall front windows, and hand-written menu boards that hung against the brick walls made it one of Alex’s favorite lunch spots.
“Munch and Finn collared Almasi…”
“Why couldn’t you wait until Tuesday?” Alex picked the grilled onions off her smoked chicken and portabella salad and then wiped her fingers on her napkin.
“Almasi guessed Tahir talked, so he snuck out the back door of the strip club with the girls. Munch and Finn had to arrest him.” Olivia took a bite of her ginger and black bean fish and eyed Alex’s lunch. “Could I try your portabella?”
“Sure.” Alex put a bite on her plate. “So, did Almasi talk?”
“Right away. He’s scared for his family in Sudan.”
Alex put her fork down as she processed what that meant. “So the Sudanese will kill his family if we bust the ring…”
Olivia nodded. “Three families run the business from New York. No one else knows Tahir talked. If they knew they’d tell their contacts in Sudan.”
“Jeez. So he’ll cooperate with us?”
Olivia nodded. “Anything we ask, if we keep his family safe. He’s back home.”
“You let him go?” Alex coughed on a piece of lettuce and narrowed her eyes.
“If he tries anything we’ll make the case public,” Olivia countered.
“And he won’t risk that…” she said, connecting the dots which Olivia noted with a satisfied nod. “Where are the girls?”
“With APS.”
“I have some contacts at the U.N. I’ll call when we get back.”
“Thanks.” Olivia wiped her mouth with her napkin and got quiet again.
Alex raised a quizzical eyebrow at her and asked, “What?”
“He took us to the warehouse.” Olivia put her fork down and pushed her plate away even though she’d only eaten a few bites.
Alex raised her eyebrows further. “What happened?”
“They attached a chain on the walls for each girl. No windows, no ventilation. At least there were mattresses. Buckets lined the wall for bathrooms.”
“Liv…” Alex covered her mouth with her hand, conjuring up images of slave ships.
Olivia shook her head. “Sometimes I think nothing will surprise me anymore. I think I’m used to it, and then, I’m not.”
Alex rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand as she watched sadness, anger, confusion, and compassion alternate across Olivia’s face. “I don’t know that we ever get used to it,” she said.
Olivia shrugged. “I know. I asked Almasi why he did this.” She pushed around the portabella with her fork.
“What’d he say?”
“To make a future for his family.”
Alex was outraged. “By ruining these girls’ lives?!”
“He’s roped into it too, Alex. The government blackmailed him. If he’d said ‘no,’ his entire family would have been killed.” Olivia watched Alex wrestle inwardly with the complexity, and she completely related. “Do you ever feel like you’re trying to plug up these tiny holes… when there’s a gushing dam?”
Alex tapped her fingers on the table and said, “All the time.”
“I just wish I was more effective at stopping it.”
Alex noticed that the red in Olivia’s sweater accented the warmth and strength in her eyes and she challenged her. “You help, Liv.”
“Enough, though? It feels never ending. I don’t know if we’re even making a dent.” When Olivia expressed these thoughts people would worry about her or make her feel better. Alex was direct, and Olivia liked that. She had the freedom to grapple when she was with Alex, and that energized her.
“We can give everything to the cases in front of us.”
“And that’s enough?”
“I don’t know,” Alex sighed. “It’s going to have to be. We can do a damn good job of plugging the holes in front of us. And,” Alex’s voice softened, “those girls are in a much better place today.”
“Are they, though?” Olivia wondered how APS could even begin to ease the dead look she saw in the girls’ eyes last night.
“They’re not in the middle of that nightmare now.”
“But they’re severely traumatized.”
Alex sighed. “I know.”
“Isaac and Eve are involved with the Sudanese community. I’m going over to St. Luke’s this afternoon. Maybe they’ll have some ideas.”
Alex smiled at her curiously. “How many victims do you stay in touch with?”
Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe a dozen, on and off.”
“This job allow you any time for a social life?”
Olivia looked up at her and shrugged again. “Sometimes.”
“Let me guess. You go out with people and get paged.”
“Luckily I have understanding friends.” Olivia smiled and laughed.
Alex took a bite of salad. “You sound like me. It makes dating extremely difficult, too.”
“Occupational hazard. I go on dates and get paged.”
“Detectives interrupt dates I go on,” Alex winked.
“Does Trevor actually count as a date?”
“We were at a nice restaurant. He’s intelligent and attractive…”
“Ehhh...”
Alex coughed on her sip of water. “I thought he might understand my insane hours.”
“And did he?”
“No. Neither of us found what we were looking for in each other.”
Olivia raised her eyebrows. “It’s hard finding someone who understands this job.”
“Tell me about it… How about you? Are you dating anyone?”
“I date sometimes, no one right now though.”
“Dated anyone I know recently?” Alex asked.
“Shaun from Major Cases, and…” Olivia hesitated. “You probably don’t know anyone else.”
“You date women too…” Alex guessed.
“Yeah.” Olivia leaned back in her chair. She felt protective, and wondered what made Alex guess that. She was only out to Elliot at work.
“I’ve wondered…” Sensing Olivia’s discomfort she added, “I think it’s great.”
Olivia nodded.
“Look, I won’t say anything if that’s what’s bothering you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Alex was concerned.
“I’m not out at work. Elliot knows, otherwise it hasn’t come up.”
“Olivia, I can respect that.”
“Good.” Olivia looked over at Alex’s worried gaze and she took a breath and relaxed. “I’m glad.”
“Me, too.” Alex hoped Olivia knew that she was trustworthy. “Have you always known?”
As they talked Alex identified with Olivia’s difficulty in finding someone who understood her commitment to the job. She identified when Olivia talked about her attraction to a person's character. Olivia was curious about Alex’s desire for directness and communication. And she wondered if Alex was a closet romantic.
As they were walking back to work Alex said, “I need some help sorting through resources for Cheryl. Do you want to come over tomorrow morning and work on it with me?”
“Sure.” Olivia glanced over at Alex and put her hands in her coat pockets to warm them. “What time?”
“Mid-morning.”
“I’ll bring lattes?”
“My favorite,” Alex smiled at her.
Pairing: SVU A/O
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Alex and Olivia are not my characters. I try to do them justice (no pun intended), though.
Spoilers: For this chapter... Fallacy and Angels
Summary: This story opens immediately after the ending of Fallacy, so it starts out intense. Alex and Olivia help each other make sense of the world of SVU, and their roles in it. They inspire, and grapple with grey areas of their lives and jobs.
AN 1: Thank you to ncruuk for beta-ing this story 3 years ago, and to scatterthebones for critique
AN 2: If August rolls around and I'm not done posting, there will be huge time gaps between chapters
AN 3: I'd love critique. p.s. I'm ignoring the canon of P.C. b/c it doesn't fit (and I started writing this before it aired)
Chapter 6
Sorry this story has jumped around. Two cases are being established... this chapter should flow better.
Bellvue Hospital Intensive Care Room - Friday Night
“You’d be alone a lot, but you’d have plenty of things to do. Lawyers and media will meet with you during the day.” Alex swallowed the lump in her throat. Cheryl’s eyes were so bloodshot and swollen Alex couldn’t tell they were brown anymore, even though she sat right beside her.
“I don’t want to see you.” Cheryl’s voice cracked from her injuries and from emotion, and she turned away.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said. She felt a need to smooth the edge of Cheryl’s bed sheet. “But you can’t give up.”
“What do you care?” Cheryl’s voice cracked and Alex knew she’d just offended her. Cheryl tried willing away her tears because she didn’t want Alex to see her vulnerable.
“I don’t think it’s fair to house you in a men’s prison.”
“Well, you put me there…” It hurt to talk.
“You killed Joe, and I was the prosecuting lawyer.”
Cheryl looked up at the ceiling. She hated Alex, she hated her body, she hated everything about the miserable, fucked up existence that had landed her in a hospital barely able to move. “I’m a freak,” she said.
There was a long silence. Her words hung in the air, daring Alex to argue. ‘You were born a beautiful woman. You can’t challenge me,’ they silently said.
“You’re transgendered.” Alex responded.
“And I can’t fucking live…” she had to pause, “…a normal life. Eddie’s dead…” pause, “No man wants to be with me…” pause, “I’m a rape target in prison…”
Alex rested her chin on her hand and closed her eyes to gather her focus as Cheryl spoke.
“Are you happy now?... You got Joe’s killer…”
“You shouldn’t have killed him," Alex said slowly. "And, you should be in a women’s prison.”
“I’m in the wrong body. If I’d been born a girl… I wouldn’t be here.” Cheryl felt the hot, melting rage and helplessness in her words spread throughout her chest, despite her condition.
Alex swallowed. “You’ve never had it easy, Cheryl,” she said, and met her gaze. Cheryl didn't want to trust Alex, even slightly.
“Look,” Alex continued. “You have a chance to do the right thing. And I will help you, and I will get others to help you. If you fight this, you’ll make it easier on yourself and fairer for other transgendered people who end up in your situation.” Cheryl looked back up at the ceiling, and when Alex sensed an opening the prosecutor in her went for the kill. “You don’t hate them too, do you?”
“No… of course not.”
“Then go into protective custody when you’re well enough, and work on this case with me.”
Cheryl paused for a moment. She was tired and she needed rest, and deep down she knew Alex was right. “OK,” she finally answered.
***
Dishes Restaurant - Saturday lunch
“Can the U.N. get Hassan Almasi’s family out of Sudan?” Olivia asked and crossed her arms against her red sweater. Alex watched her look at the floor as they waited to pick up their orders. Olivia had been quiet when she told her about seeing Cheryl on their walk over, and Alex wondered what was going on.
“Why? What happened last night?” They got their trays and sat down by a window. It was a slow Saturday, so when Olivia called Alex with a question about the U.N., Alex asked her to lunch. Dishes was an upscale take-out deli. The ever-changing menu, tall front windows, and hand-written menu boards that hung against the brick walls made it one of Alex’s favorite lunch spots.
“Munch and Finn collared Almasi…”
“Why couldn’t you wait until Tuesday?” Alex picked the grilled onions off her smoked chicken and portabella salad and then wiped her fingers on her napkin.
“Almasi guessed Tahir talked, so he snuck out the back door of the strip club with the girls. Munch and Finn had to arrest him.” Olivia took a bite of her ginger and black bean fish and eyed Alex’s lunch. “Could I try your portabella?”
“Sure.” Alex put a bite on her plate. “So, did Almasi talk?”
“Right away. He’s scared for his family in Sudan.”
Alex put her fork down as she processed what that meant. “So the Sudanese will kill his family if we bust the ring…”
Olivia nodded. “Three families run the business from New York. No one else knows Tahir talked. If they knew they’d tell their contacts in Sudan.”
“Jeez. So he’ll cooperate with us?”
Olivia nodded. “Anything we ask, if we keep his family safe. He’s back home.”
“You let him go?” Alex coughed on a piece of lettuce and narrowed her eyes.
“If he tries anything we’ll make the case public,” Olivia countered.
“And he won’t risk that…” she said, connecting the dots which Olivia noted with a satisfied nod. “Where are the girls?”
“With APS.”
“I have some contacts at the U.N. I’ll call when we get back.”
“Thanks.” Olivia wiped her mouth with her napkin and got quiet again.
Alex raised a quizzical eyebrow at her and asked, “What?”
“He took us to the warehouse.” Olivia put her fork down and pushed her plate away even though she’d only eaten a few bites.
Alex raised her eyebrows further. “What happened?”
“They attached a chain on the walls for each girl. No windows, no ventilation. At least there were mattresses. Buckets lined the wall for bathrooms.”
“Liv…” Alex covered her mouth with her hand, conjuring up images of slave ships.
Olivia shook her head. “Sometimes I think nothing will surprise me anymore. I think I’m used to it, and then, I’m not.”
Alex rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand as she watched sadness, anger, confusion, and compassion alternate across Olivia’s face. “I don’t know that we ever get used to it,” she said.
Olivia shrugged. “I know. I asked Almasi why he did this.” She pushed around the portabella with her fork.
“What’d he say?”
“To make a future for his family.”
Alex was outraged. “By ruining these girls’ lives?!”
“He’s roped into it too, Alex. The government blackmailed him. If he’d said ‘no,’ his entire family would have been killed.” Olivia watched Alex wrestle inwardly with the complexity, and she completely related. “Do you ever feel like you’re trying to plug up these tiny holes… when there’s a gushing dam?”
Alex tapped her fingers on the table and said, “All the time.”
“I just wish I was more effective at stopping it.”
Alex noticed that the red in Olivia’s sweater accented the warmth and strength in her eyes and she challenged her. “You help, Liv.”
“Enough, though? It feels never ending. I don’t know if we’re even making a dent.” When Olivia expressed these thoughts people would worry about her or make her feel better. Alex was direct, and Olivia liked that. She had the freedom to grapple when she was with Alex, and that energized her.
“We can give everything to the cases in front of us.”
“And that’s enough?”
“I don’t know,” Alex sighed. “It’s going to have to be. We can do a damn good job of plugging the holes in front of us. And,” Alex’s voice softened, “those girls are in a much better place today.”
“Are they, though?” Olivia wondered how APS could even begin to ease the dead look she saw in the girls’ eyes last night.
“They’re not in the middle of that nightmare now.”
“But they’re severely traumatized.”
Alex sighed. “I know.”
“Isaac and Eve are involved with the Sudanese community. I’m going over to St. Luke’s this afternoon. Maybe they’ll have some ideas.”
Alex smiled at her curiously. “How many victims do you stay in touch with?”
Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe a dozen, on and off.”
“This job allow you any time for a social life?”
Olivia looked up at her and shrugged again. “Sometimes.”
“Let me guess. You go out with people and get paged.”
“Luckily I have understanding friends.” Olivia smiled and laughed.
Alex took a bite of salad. “You sound like me. It makes dating extremely difficult, too.”
“Occupational hazard. I go on dates and get paged.”
“Detectives interrupt dates I go on,” Alex winked.
“Does Trevor actually count as a date?”
“We were at a nice restaurant. He’s intelligent and attractive…”
“Ehhh...”
Alex coughed on her sip of water. “I thought he might understand my insane hours.”
“And did he?”
“No. Neither of us found what we were looking for in each other.”
Olivia raised her eyebrows. “It’s hard finding someone who understands this job.”
“Tell me about it… How about you? Are you dating anyone?”
“I date sometimes, no one right now though.”
“Dated anyone I know recently?” Alex asked.
“Shaun from Major Cases, and…” Olivia hesitated. “You probably don’t know anyone else.”
“You date women too…” Alex guessed.
“Yeah.” Olivia leaned back in her chair. She felt protective, and wondered what made Alex guess that. She was only out to Elliot at work.
“I’ve wondered…” Sensing Olivia’s discomfort she added, “I think it’s great.”
Olivia nodded.
“Look, I won’t say anything if that’s what’s bothering you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Alex was concerned.
“I’m not out at work. Elliot knows, otherwise it hasn’t come up.”
“Olivia, I can respect that.”
“Good.” Olivia looked over at Alex’s worried gaze and she took a breath and relaxed. “I’m glad.”
“Me, too.” Alex hoped Olivia knew that she was trustworthy. “Have you always known?”
As they talked Alex identified with Olivia’s difficulty in finding someone who understood her commitment to the job. She identified when Olivia talked about her attraction to a person's character. Olivia was curious about Alex’s desire for directness and communication. And she wondered if Alex was a closet romantic.
As they were walking back to work Alex said, “I need some help sorting through resources for Cheryl. Do you want to come over tomorrow morning and work on it with me?”
“Sure.” Olivia glanced over at Alex and put her hands in her coat pockets to warm them. “What time?”
“Mid-morning.”
“I’ll bring lattes?”
“My favorite,” Alex smiled at her.