(no subject)
Alex had asked them to find her a place to live. If her mother had still been alive, she would have raced to her house first, stayed there for a while, reveled in being Alex again. She would have regained her balance and let her mother get to know Hannah.
But her mother was gone and Alex just felt empty. She didn’t want to burden anyone with her brokenness. She didn’t want to feel obligated to explain to anyone what had happened just because she was sleeping in their guestroom.
And she didn’t want to get attached to anyone again. Not yet. She was certain that it was a mistake. She was sure that they’d bang on her door in a week and tell her that she had to go back, that they’d gotten another threat. Or worse, she’d be shot again and this time, there would be no one there to save her, no one there to call an ambulance… and she’d die there on the pavement, cold and alone. What would happen to Hannah then? She had no plans for Hannah’s care if she didn’t make it. Who, in New York, could she really give her daughter to when no one even knew she existed anyway?
Hannah. Hannah Cabot. That had felt even better than she’d expected it to. Deep down, she’d always been Alex, but Hannah had never truly gotten to be a Cabot. She’d been Emily’s daughter or Mary Ann’s daughter, not Alex’s. Never Alex’s. But now… Now, she was Hannah Leigh Cabot, daughter of Alexandra Cabot. Alex Cabot was a mother.
The agents had helped her pack everything she wanted to keep from her apartment in Denver and they’d made the move back across the country. This time, speed didn’t matter to the agents. This time, they stopped at hotels. But Alex wasn’t sure she really cared. There was nothing she was rushing to get home to. There was no one waiting for her. She hadn’t made the calls yet to tell anyone she was coming back. She’d make those one day. But not yet.
She’d sat in the car and watched road signs pass, thankful that Hannah had behaved for the most part. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they’d all been locked in a car with a screaming child. But even Hannah, crier that she could be, sensed the solemnity of it all. And barely anyone spoke. They just drove, radio quietly crooning out songs from long before Alex’s time.
They’d been polite enough to get everything into the apartment for her ahead of time, to set up all the furniture so that it at least looked like somewhere worth living. Someone had even tried to mimic the way she’d arranged her living room in Denver. Maybe she’d change it. But she wasn’t sure she cared enough.
The agents had asked if she wanted them to stay for a bit, wait until she felt safe, but she quietly thanked them and said she’d be fine. They seemed skeptical, but she insisted and they left.
She scooped Hannah out of her carrier and cradled her close.
“This is New York, Hannah.” She whispered, carrying her around the apartment as she checked out the rooms. “This is our home.”
Home. The word fell from her lips and she swallowed hard. She hadn’t had a home in two years. Was this finally it? Would she get to keep this?
“I don’t miss Denver.” Alex said. “Do you?” The little girl just blinked her bright blue eyes at her mother. “I’ll take that as a no.” She kissed her forehead. “I don’t miss Wisconsin either. But you don’t know Wisconsin. It’s where he’s from. Is it okay if we forget Wisconsin?” Hannah just stared at her. “Yes. We’ll forget it.”
She paused for a moment in the bathroom, flicking on the light to gaze at the two of them in the mirror. She had one picture of them together, one that a nurse had insisted on taking after Hannah was born. But this image felt different. Alex Cabot was holding a baby. She looked down at her daughter, brushing a finger over the bridge of her nose, amazed that she’d created this tiny life, brought her into the world. She wouldn’t have her if she hadn’t gone into Witness Protection. She swallowed hard, quickly turning her attention back to the mirror.
She remembered a time when she’d gazed at her reflection before, when she’d tried to figure out who Emily was, where Alex would end. She searched her own eyes again. Something was missing now. They were dimmer than they’d been before, anyone could see that. She wondered if she’d carry Emily, carry Mary Ann with her forever. Either way, she’d left the old Alex behind on the pavement. That part of her had bled out, spilled onto Olivia’s hands and died in the middle of the sidewalk.
Olivia. Alex swallowed hard. She was back. She could call Olivia now. She could cry to her and hold her and love her. But the memory of that night flooded her and she saw the fear flash in her own eyes. She turned from the mirror, forcing back the tears.
She repositioned her daughter to her shoulder, gently rubbing her back.
“You’re so heavy.” She said, going out to the living room and taking a seat on the couch.
Hannah wiggled slightly and Alex continued to rub her back, falling quiet, losing herself in thought.
She was in New York. With a baby.
So far, only the agents had called her Alex. It seemed foreign on their lips. They’d called her by other names before. They didn’t know who Alex was anymore than they knew who any of the others were. She was another identity to them, another location. It didn’t matter.
Maybe that’s all it really was. Alex certainly wasn’t Alex anymore. Not the Alex she used to be. Maybe this was just another identity to build.
She looked at the tiny blonde in her arms, noticing that the girl had fallen asleep. She didn’t blame her. Even for Alex, the days had been an overload of new locations, new sights, new people. It was just the two of them now. They didn’t have to pretend to be able to handle it all. They could be weary together, overwhelmed together.
Alex felt the tiredness sinking deeper in. She’d barely slept the past couple days. Her anxiety had been in high gear, even with the medication. Medicine couldn’t make her forget what New York City had done to her. And it certainly couldn’t tell her how to be Alex again. Her mind wasn’t magically wiped clean and restored to its original state. She had to face facts. She had to accept fate.
She sighed, rising from the couch, placing Hannah in her carrier. She thought for a moment and grabbed the bassinet from the corner of the living room, pulling it down the hall and into her bedroom by her bed.
She lifted Hannah carefully from her carrier and brought her back down the hall, laying her gently in the bassinet. Alex Cabot had a daughter.
She swallowed hard, leaning down to kiss her head before shutting off the light and climbing into bed, not even bothering to change. She’d worry about normal things like that in the morning.
She pulled the comforter tightly around her and shut her eyes. She’d worry about Alex Cabot in the morning.