Apr 10, 2008 21:40
You know, I am thankful that, for as long as I have been on the force I have never been shot. I have been hit, stalked, gassed, and more often then not - cut. I am surprised how many times I have managed to get in the way of some perp's blade. My mother thought I was going to get shot and killed, my first day out. Like, I put on my uniform, step out on the street and WHAM, dead. Thanks mom.
Out of the pair of us, Elliot and I. Elliot is the bullet and I am the blade magnet, and every time I see him go down my heart literally stops. If I had to put money on it, I would say that I am more likely to die of a heart attack then some bad guy getting a jump on me. Still, we are talking about wounds, not COD's.
My worst wound if I had to pick one, is the one I received while chasing a child molester. Elliot and I chased him, and when we got to close, he cut my throat. Elliot stopped the chase to look after me, and the guy got away. Like everyone else, there is the physical and then there is the emotional that follows close behind. What happens after you heal, after the break sets, or the skin knits back together, you are left with what's left.
For me, I transfered out to Computer crimes, because someone said that Elliot and I were too close. I cut out the one person who was the closest to me, simply because I got to scared. Wounds heal, the one on my neck did, what takes longer to mend is the fear that follows you afterward.
entry: open,
muse: olivia benson,
muse: jordan cavanaugh,
entry: springboard