Law and Order: SVU - Series: The Evidence of Damage (Ch. 1)
Series: The Evidence of Damage
Chapter 1: Undertow
Author: vegawriters
Fandom: Law and Order: SVU; In Plain Sight
Pairing: Alex/Olivia
Rating: Adult
Timeframe: If it’s aired for either show, it’s fair game.
A/N: The series title is taken from Adrienne Rich’s poem Diving into the Wreck. For reader perspective, the present day events in this series take place directly following Daylight Fading.
Disclaimer: I own neither show. And until I am a card carrying member of the WGA, I can’t work for either of them. So, instead, the money I don’t make goes back to NBC Universal and the powers that be and I’ll just enjoy writing and playing. Sydney Ludlow, Ali Ramos, and other original characters all belong to me.
Summary: Olivia fell deathly silent again and Elliot kicked himself. Was. Alex was a pit bull. All that was left of her was a lifeless, bullet ridden corpse that the hospital wouldn’t let Olivia see because she wasn’t family. The feds had already commandeered the investigation and Alex’s body and not even Warner was allowed in to process. They’d get to say goodbye at the funeral, Hammond had barked at them.
We are, I am, you are
by cowardice or courage
the one who find our way
back to the scene
carrying a knife, a camera
a book of myths
in which
our names do not appear.
From: Diving into the Wreck (Adrienne Rich)
2003
Mary Shannon taped the last of the boxes shut and stacked it on the top of the pile. Tomorrow, the movers would show up and move her entire life across the country and Marshall would let them into her new apartment and it wouldn’t be long before she had peace and quiet and something she really appreciated doing with her time.
Freedom. It was a beautiful word.
This was the end. She was done. Done with New Jersey and done with the mess and her godammed mother and her incapable sister. Done with everything. A few weeks in DC for witsec training and then back to New Mexico and that irritating Marshall who had already broken through every wall she’d tried so carefully to construct.
Fucking cops.
It would be better than her current - no former - partner. Anything would be. It helped that she liked Marshall. Hell, she even liked the shithole Albuquerque had turned out to be. And for the first time since she’d begun her career with the Marshal’s service, no one wanted to force her out or into a new position.
It frightened her that she’d found her calling with the terrified and the criminals, but it seemed to be. At least for now. Who knew how long until she got restless again.
Moving into the wreck that was her kitchen, Mary grabbed her last beer out of the fridge and collapsed against the counter.
Freedom.
The knock on her door was completely unexpected. Scurrying quickly, reaching on instinct for her gun, she checked the peephole and stepped back, surprised and just a little bit worried to see her new, albeit temporary, boss standing in the hallway next to a very upset looking black woman. “Douglas,” she said as she opened the door, “I thought I wouldn’t see you until DC.”
“Mary,” Douglas Mackenzie stepped into her apartment, “this is US Attorney Claudia Williams. I know that this is not quite procedure and normally we wouldn’t do this, but for a lot of reasons, you’re the best in the area for this assignment, and we need a new face in play.”
“What’s going on?” Mary looked at Claudia and finally saw the red-rimmed eyes and the shaking hands. “What …” The attorney held out a file. Mary opened it to find an image of a woman who could have been her sister.
“One of my closest friends was shot tonight. Forgetting the fact that she’s a friend of mine, the mayor of Manhattan, and the Governor of New York, she’s also the heir to the Cabot family fortune.”
“The Cabot family fortune? Wait, the Cabot family who donated most of the money to fund St. Mary’s hospital, the Cabot family who sponsors scholarships for poor kids to go to law school? That Cabot family?”
“Yes. Direct descendants of John Cabot himself.” Claudia sighed tersely, “But that’s neither here nor there. All that matters is that they happen to have amassed the wealth and power equal to part of the Vatican thanks to smart investing and being all around good people.”
“And bootlegging during the twenties?”
Claudia shrugged and Mary realized she’d have smiled if it was any other moment. She shut her mouth and let the woman talk. “Alex was prosecuting a rapist who was involved with Cesar Velez.”
“The drug baron? Doesn’t he run most of New York and a good chunk of Columbia?”
“Yes.” Douglas took the lead on the conversation, “During the course of the investigation, Alex Cabot stepped into a couple of messes and a lot of evidence that put her life in danger. Credible threats led us to activate temporary protection, but the Feds screwed it up. They really can’t be blamed, but they just weren’t ready to take on the case. Hammond is a good agent and he works DEA, not protection. Alex was shot tonight, on a sidewalk in New York. The shooter is in the wind. If she wakes up, we’re putting her into protection.”
“She won’t even have a choice? She has the right to get shot at just like the rest of the population.”
“She’s too important to risk.”
“No offense, but she goes into witsec, she’s not a Cabot anymore. That whole family name won’t matter at all.” Mary bit back her more cynical response. Society princesses were not used to having their satin sheets taken away. ADA or not, Alexandra Cabot was still from a different class of people.
“It isn’t just what family she’s from, Mary.” Claudia blinked back tears, “Velez encourages his drug dealers to rape and murder the women they use. Alex has names and information involving the death of an NYPD officer at the hands of one of his minions. That minion died in his cell before we could even offer him an out through witsec. Now, he’s gunning for Alex. We’re hoping that once we seal this case, she can come out of the program and actually go back to her life. But for now, she needs to be kept safe.”
“Why pin it on me? I’m new. I barely know anything about taking care of witnesses let alone princesses like this one.”
“Or anyone.” Douglas shook his head. “There’s more. We’ve got a leak, Mary. We know for sure you aren’t it because of how new you are, so we know we can trust you. Your job, in addition to keeping the heir to one of the most powerful families in the world alive, is to find the leak. Before he kills her.”
Mary sighed. Great. “Okay.” She glanced back at the mess of her apartment. “Let’s get into Manhattan.”
***
Quite frankly, Elliot wasn’t sure what to do, other than watch, and wait. Olivia’s frightening silence was almost too much - he wanted to push her, to make her talk to him, but he knew better. To do so at this point would only result in her pushing her feelings further and further inside before she finally exploded at just the wrong moment. Poor Munch didn’t need to be on the receiving end of one of her temper tantrums.
So he waited. She wasn’t ready to leave and he wasn’t going to make her. Sitting next to her in the poorly lit hospital corridor, he watched her rub at the blood on her hands, the rusty coat of color cracking into flakes as her fingertips pushed at it. Her shirt was stained. Her jacket. She’d never get the blood out of the leather. Not completely.
“We had a fight the other night,” Olivia whispered. “After the car bombing. I … I wanted her to go upstate with her mother and she refused and I got so mad. I thought she was throwing our mutual safety under the bus for a goddamned rape case.”
In truth, Elliot was still getting used to the idea of Alex and Olivia in a relationship. He accepted it, even if he didn’t quite understand the truth that his partner was an equal opportunity dater and the Barbie-esque lawyer was in fact a lesbian. It left his world a little off-kilter. But Olivia was happy. That was all that mattered.
No, she’d been happy. Now … she was empty. He’d never seen her like this.
What would he do if he saw Kathy gunned down in the streets?
At least Olivia’s frightening silence was broken.
“What did you expect, Olivia. Alex is like a pit bull. She doesn’t give up.”
Olivia fell deathly silent again and Elliot kicked himself. Was. Alex was a pit bull. All that was left of her was a lifeless, bullet ridden corpse that the hospital wouldn’t let Olivia see because she wasn’t family. The feds had already commandeered the investigation and Alex’s body and not even Warner was allowed in to process. They’d get to say goodbye at the funeral, Hammond had barked at them.
Olivia deserved more.
They all did.
She was twisting her hands again, picking so deeply into the dried blood on her skin that he could see marks forming on her fingers. Gently, he reached over and took her hands in his and with practice that came from four messy children, he pulled a spare package of disposable wipes out of his pocket and caressed it over her skin, watching the bleached tissue turn red with what little evidence was left of Alexandra Cabot.
He realized, suddenly, he didn’t know if Alex had a middle name. Or what the inside of her apartment looked like. Or just how much she’d loved Olivia.
Quickly, Elliot blinked back tears. “Let me take you home, Liv.”
She squeezed her eyes tightly together and he knew she needed to go but she couldn’t bring herself to stand up and force herself to move toward the exit. Cragen still hovered at the end of the hall and Elliot knew he’d been arguing for them to say goodbye to Alex. He cast a glance to his boss and the older man came forward.
He knew how Cragen felt about Olivia. A man with no children and a woman always in search of a father figure, they were a perfect match for each other. Loving her as a daughter assuaged the demons Cragen always carried. Seeing Cragen as a father allowed Olivia to pretend her own father had not been such a monster.
And right now Olivia needed a father.
“Olivia,” Cragen’s voice was as gentle as the tones Elliot used with Lizzie, “go home and get some rest.”
It occurred to him that this was the moment Cragen had learned about Olivia’s relationship with Alex.
But something about the soft tone in his captain’s voice shattered whatever was left of Olivia’s composure and she bent at the waist and started to sob.
***
Everything hurt. The pain radiated from her right arm, down through to her fingernails, up into the tips of her hair, and across her body; nerves bouncing off each other at such a high rate that her brain overloaded and shut down every time she tried to open her eyes.
Her dry mouth cracked as she tried to dislodge her swollen tongue from the roof of her mouth. Her lips broke, only adding to the pain. She needed water.
Where was she?
No, she knew. She had to be in the hospital. She remembered turning and the crack of something so close to her ear and her head thudding against the sidewalk. Part of her knew she remembered Olivia screaming over her body, but it …
Had something happened to Olivia too?
Forcing her eyes open, Alex surveyed her surroundings. Gray-blue hospital walls. Brown hospital door. Black paper over the window in the door. The blinds shut so tight she had no idea if it was day or night. A frightening man in black stood just inside the door, his back to her.
“Who …”
Her whisper was louder than she expected because he turned and jumped. “Ms. Cabot, you’re awake. Hold on.”
No, she wasn’t awake. Not really. If she was awake, she wouldn’t be watching someone who reminded her of the Special Agents on The West Wing speak into something in his sleeve. When she woke up again, she’d roll over into Olivia’s arms and they’d snuggle until the alarm went off.
She wanted to pinch herself, but her hands wouldn’t move.
The door opened and a pencil necked man in a white lab coat stepped through, followed by a frustrated looking Agent Hammond. Right behind him was a woman with long blonde hair and bangs that were all too similar to her own. The strut and leather jacket reminded her of Olivia. Olivia. Where was Olivia?
“You gave us quite a scare, Ms. Cabot.”
The last time Hammond had seen her, he’d yelled at her, making her feel even more guilty for the loss of the agent who had been so helpful. She opened her mouth to speak again, but couldn’t get past her cotton tongue. The pencil necked doctor gently spooned some ice chips between her lips.
“What happened?” She finally whispered.
“You were shot. Twice. Once in the arm,” the doctor was speaking, “it went through the soft tissue - you’ll need some rehab in that muscle but it should come back completely. The second bullet hit your shoulder, again through and through, but nicked an artery, which led to substantial blood loss. The concussion you sustained when you hit the ground didn’t help matters.”
“What ... Olivia?”
“She’s fine,” Hammond spoke up again. “But …” he was suddenly at a loss for words and so he looked to the blonde. She stepped forward and then took a seat next to the bed. Her fingers were soft where they curled around Alex’s.
“Olivia’s fine,” the blonde said, “she wasn’t hit. She wasn’t even a target. You, however … we had to move fast. Officially, Alex, you’re dead. I’m Mary Shepherd with the Witness Protection Program. I’m here to help you with your relocation.”
Alex closed her eyes, now completely sure this was a nightmare and when she rolled over, Olivia’s arms would wrap around her and they could snuggle together and Olivia would kiss away the worst of the dreams.
But her body didn’t cooperate when she told it to move and the only warmth in her body was Mary’s fingers on hers. Again, she opened her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“Velez wants you dead, Alex.” Mary was speaking again. “And the only way to get him to stop was to make him think you were. We’re working on infiltrating his organization, but the fewer people who know you’re alive, the better.”
“I … don’t get a choice?” She needed more ice chips.
Olivia thought she was dead. Olivia …
Olivia thought she was dead.
“Not this time. If we don’t protect you, Alex, he is going to kill you. Hopefully, though, when we get this cleared up, we might be able to bring you out of the program and return you to your life.”
Her body started to shake. Olivia thought she was dead. Olivia … “I …” She didn’t want this. She wanted to go home and crawl into bed and laugh while Olivia made chicken soup from a can - even though she was perfectly capable of doing it completely from scratch. “No.”
“Ms. Cabot …”
Hammond’s voice grated on her and she shook harder and bit her lip and her teeth sunk through the dry, cracked skin and she tasted blood. “No! You can’t do this to me against my will!”
“And if we let you back on the streets, you’ll be dead within twenty-four hours.” Mary’s voice was tough, but there was a note of gentle compassion. Olivia’s voice was like that when she talked to victims.
Tears choked her and she tried to sit up but the pain in her shoulder was too much and her head ached and she collapsed back onto the bed. “You have to let me say goodbye,” she sobbed, accepting the cage they’d thrown her in to. “You have to let me say goodbye.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Mary’s voice continued on. “No one can know, Alex.”
“No!” She choked against the tears and the doctor cast worried glances at the agents in the room. “No! I’m not … no!” The doctor shook his head and Alex wondered if he was one of them. He had to be, since no one could know. “I have to say goodbye to her .. you have to … please. Please. Please.” She pulled her fingers away from Mary’s grip and tightened them in the blanket. “I won’t do this unless you agree. If you want me alive, then you have to let me see her.” Alex choked again. “I get to say goodbye.”
She heard Mary sigh and knew they were hoping she’d fall asleep again. Her eyelids were heavy. Her body screamed for rest. But if she fell asleep before they gave in, she knew she’d never get the chance. With what was left of her strength (the doctor had to have put a sedative back in her IV) she stared at the woman who was supposed to be protecting her and then over her shoulder at the bulky, sulking Hammond. She knew how to read people. Mary wouldn’t budge but she could work Hammond. “You’re building a case against Velez,” she choked out, her tongue slurring. Yes, pencil neck had given her a sedative. “And if you want my testimony and my case knowledge, you give me this one request.”
The room fell silent. Alex counted her heartbeats to stay awake and worried that the next time she opened her eyes, she’d be in a hospital in Alaska. But she had to try. She refused to close her eyes until Hammond gave in. The room spun around her and she was sure, absolutely sure, pink elephants were dancing in the corner, but she was going to get this promise before she gave in to the sedative.
“All right. I’ll arrange it.”
Alex crashed into the pillow, asleep before her body registered anything else.
***
Barely controlling her anger, Mary Shannon kept her composure long enough to follow Inspector Cotton and Agent Hammond into the conference room they’d commandeered as a command post. Only after the door was locked behind them did she lash out.
“How dare you compromise her security like that? Just for a meet up with someone who happened to be on the street with her? The US Attorney will have our heads if anything happens to her and I happen to like my job.”
“It’s only fair, Mary,” Hammond’s voice was defeated. “You’ve read her file.”
“Of course …” Mary leaned back and the wall caught her as she remembered the notation in the file. “Oh …”
“If Alex were married, we’d be able to ask her husband if she wanted to join her in the program. But she’s not. If Olivia was on the threat list, it would be a no brainer. But, for reasons passing understanding, she’s not. She deserves this at least.”
“Okay.” Mary let out a slow breath. “I’ll set it up.”
‘No.” Hammond shook his head. “I will. You maintain security here and finish getting things set up for her.” He looked at Cotton, “How soon can we move her?”
“Her vitals are fine and she’s going to be in pain more than anything else. Another day or two for her head, I suppose. We can rehab her after she’s moved.”
“Good.” Hammond ran a hand over his head. “All right.” He looked long and hard at Mary. “It’s your job to get her to understand this.”
“I know.”
“So go sit with her until she wakes up.”
With a sigh, Mary nodded. Grabbing the file off the table so she could finish memorizing it, she headed back down the hallway and into the secure room where her witness slept.
***
Olivia lit a candle and settled back onto the couch, the gold chain of the necklace laced through her fingers, wrapping around Alex’s ADA badge. In the dark, silent apartment, the candle glowed, haunting, the same eerie look as the votives in the church where they’d gathered around an urn that held only the ashes of an empty coffin.
Elliot had wanted to stay. She’d almost let him. But when he’d followed her through her door, his hand so supportive on her back, she’d suddenly needed time and space and the silence she was going to have to get used to.
Without Alex.
“Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, I worry about you as well, Olivia? Maybe I don’t want to disappear because if I do they’ll go after you! I’m not hiding, Olivia. If I start now, I’ll never stop.”
But now Alex was hiding. She’d been whisked away by men in trench coats; tucked into a black suburban and escorted out of town to a new life, a home somewhere where she could blend in with the rest of the population. She’d get a new job and a new name and someday fall in love with someone else.
The intoning of the priest, accented by the aching sobs of Alex’s mother, played in an incessant loop over and over in her mind. Gloria had made the trip down from the home upstate, the place she’d decided she wanted to die, to sit in her wheelchair at her daughter’s grave. Olivia had wanted to tell her, to reassure her that Alex was safe, but instincts held her back. A dying woman would stop at nothing to see her child one last time. That much she knew.
Alex’s father had stood stock still, angry at the world, his glare and blame leveled on Olivia. During the wake, he’d stayed far away from all the law enforcement types who had gathered to pay their respects. Even Judge Bill Harriman had been given the cold shoulder.
“She’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you.”
Olivia bit her lip and tasted blood. Consciously, logically, she knew the words were spoken out of anger and that they all knew the only person to blame for Alex’s “death” was the one who had shot her. But she should have protected her.
She should have convinced Alex to drop the case.
The cold metal of Alex’s ADA badge pressed into her hands. The family hadn’t wanted it. Alex’s younger sister, Angela, had come by with a box. Pictures and love notes and the ring box Alex had squirreled away with the gold necklace that had apparently been a planned Christmas gift.
Why couldn’t she have gone with? She’d been on that street too.
Olivia pressed the badge to her forehead, shuddering. She’d finally given in. She’d finally fallen in love. She’d finally let her walls down. But what if this was something Alex wanted? She was free now - to start over and meet someone new. She could have a perfectly relaxing life away from all of the stresses of New York.
Tears fell, unbidden. She was tired of crying. Tired of the empty void that had only expanded once she knew Alex was alive. It was selfish, she knew. Alex was alive. And she’d be kept safe with the feds and the new name and the new identity would become something Alex would embrace.
She’d teach poetry to hapless students at a community college. The students would fall all over themselves to listen to her read Edna St. Vincent Millay and Adrienne Rich and Emily Dickinson. Just like Olivia had the first time they’d stretched out on Alex’s bed, covered in massage oil, the candle light reflecting off their slick skin, when Alex had opened her eyes to poets Olivia had never cared to read.
She’d spend her days in the local art gallery, crafting exhibits that featured artists from underserved communities. It would be a small place - cinderblock walls to be repainted with ever show and bad wooden floorboards held together with spit, polish, and prayer.
She’d fall in love with someone who came home at night, who didn’t ask questions, who didn’t care that she didn’t talk about her past. They’d have dogs and cats and Alex would linger in the stores, staring at the fish tanks.
Olivia just didn’t know how she’d move on.
***
Alex wasn’t quite sure if she liked this other woman or if she wanted to kill her. Ironically, she’d felt the same way about Olivia when she first met her.
She stared at the wall of the dingy hotel room, reminded of the ski trip when the hotel for the team had burned down and they’d ended up at a Motel Six on the other side of the town. She’d spent most of the night in an all night diner across the street, talking to some girl who wandered in looking for a cup of coffee and a safe space.
Amelia. The girl’s name had been Amelia.
She sighed and collapsed onto the bed and winced. Her shoulder ached.
“Can I ask a question?”
“You’re a cop.” Alex shrugged.
“Why the DA’s office? With your family pedigree? Any law office in the world would have wanted you.”
Tears touched her eyes. “It seems so silly … but … I wanted to be in politics. It was such a perfect place to start. Looks good on the resume, you know. But then I got assigned to SVU and my mindset started to change. My mother worked for the ACLU for the longest time - she was a civil rights lawyer back in the 60’s and inspired me. I knew I didn’t really want to do civil rights law, but I liked the DA’s office. I liked getting criminals off the streets.” She stared at her hands. “Now that’s all off the table isn’t it? Can’t even step foot into a law office, can I?”
“Nothing, Alex. Especially in your case. Your family is too well known. We usually encourage people to keep their first names, we can’t even do that with you. Now you can use your law background - teach maybe. Research is a good idea. Just not … for anything connected to law or politics.”
“Yeah.” Alex wiped her eyes. “All because some asshole drug dealer …” she sucked in a breath. “God, my sister Angela’s going to inherit the family trust. She can barely manage her hair let alone …” she paused. “How does that work?”
“You’re officially dead, Alex. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
“What about my things?”
“We’ll ship what we can of your things to you once you’re settled in Houston. The rest will be put in storage for you, since we’re hoping to be able to release you from the program. Also, when it comes to your money, and we’ll go over that officially, but we’ll work on transferring your accounts, at your discretion to your new identity.”
“Are you guys actually planning on getting me out of this program?”
“That’s the end goal, Alex.”
“Then …” she sighed and rubbed her hand over her face, wondering how she’d explain it to her family when she did get to go home. “I can’t think about all of this right now.”
“You don’t have to. Not until we get to Houston. Then we’ll go over all the details, get your identity settled. We can help you look for work, look for a place to live. You’ll be fine, Alex.”
“What’s my new name going to be?”
“You can choose.”
“Really? How about it stays the same? How about we get in that car and drive back to New York and you just drop me off in front of Olivia’s apartment …”
“Alex …”
“I know … I know …” Alex wiped her eyes again. “I just … the look on her face. She’s heartbroken. I’ve left her there … and …”
“She knows you’re alive. She knows you’ll be safe.”
“Safe?”
“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, Alex. But I promise.”
Alex shrunk in on herself and collapsed back on the bed. “I promised myself I wouldn’t sulk. Cabot’s don’t sulk. But I just want to go home.”
“It’ll get easier.”
“Really?” Alex barely held her temper in check. “Really? Because I’d like to know how you’d feel if you couldn’t read cop journals or connect yourself to firing ranges or ever step into a courtroom again? Everything I have ever done in my life has been to get justice for someone else. I have lived and breathed the law and now I can’t speak about it again. To anyone.”
“I know.”
Alex had been expecting sympathy. What she got was gentle firmness and it forced her brain out of its self-pity mode. “Can I still root for the Celtics?”
“Yeah,” Mary smiled, “I’d stay away from the Knicks though. You’d stand out like crazy. There aren’t that many fans left and really … ones who look like you would be pretty memorable.”
“Gave up on them a long time ago.” Alex flipped through the Newsweek she’d picked up when they stopped for gas and sighed. This was the closest she was ever going to get to the law again. “Maybe I’ll work for a sports team. PR or something. You’re taking me to Houston. Maybe I can infiltrate the Rockets organization and help turn the fans against them.”
Mary laughed and Alex flashed her a tired smile. She hated this. Hated all of it. But it wasn’t Mary’s fault she was in this place. The US Attorney hadn’t given her a choice. Opting out was always available to her, but she knew better. Velez wanted her dead. She knew too much and someday, she wanted to go home.
It was about more than the rape and murder of an NYPD officer. She knew about the drug running and the mules as young as four and the women he sold into slavery both overseas and to companies in the states who utilized them for high priced political activity. The files she’d uncovered in her searching had exposed names and dates and there were things she knew, things she’d shared with Claudia before she’d been shot, that would make any sane criminal want her dead.
Velez would rot in prison. They wanted him extradited, but to send him back to Columbia would only mean giving him new power in his old territory. The drug barons were the real rulers in South America. And in New York it seemed.
She rubbed her eyes again and glanced at the phone. Her choice to pursue this case had ended everything with Olivia. Everything. If she ever got to go home again, she’d go home to see Olivia with someone new.
Would Olivia get the necklace and the ring?
Her shoulder hurt. Wincing, Alex climbed off the bed and moved to the small vanity area. The tepid tap water left a metallic taste in her mouth as she downed one of her pain pills and one of the valium the doctor, who was also the other Inspector protecting her apparently, had prescribed.
The drugs would knock her out. She needed to erase everything. Just for a little while.
TBC …
Chapter 1: Undertow
Author: vegawriters
Fandom: Law and Order: SVU; In Plain Sight
Pairing: Alex/Olivia
Rating: Adult
Timeframe: If it’s aired for either show, it’s fair game.
A/N: The series title is taken from Adrienne Rich’s poem Diving into the Wreck. For reader perspective, the present day events in this series take place directly following Daylight Fading.
Disclaimer: I own neither show. And until I am a card carrying member of the WGA, I can’t work for either of them. So, instead, the money I don’t make goes back to NBC Universal and the powers that be and I’ll just enjoy writing and playing. Sydney Ludlow, Ali Ramos, and other original characters all belong to me.
Summary: Olivia fell deathly silent again and Elliot kicked himself. Was. Alex was a pit bull. All that was left of her was a lifeless, bullet ridden corpse that the hospital wouldn’t let Olivia see because she wasn’t family. The feds had already commandeered the investigation and Alex’s body and not even Warner was allowed in to process. They’d get to say goodbye at the funeral, Hammond had barked at them.
We are, I am, you are
by cowardice or courage
the one who find our way
back to the scene
carrying a knife, a camera
a book of myths
in which
our names do not appear.
From: Diving into the Wreck (Adrienne Rich)
2003
Mary Shannon taped the last of the boxes shut and stacked it on the top of the pile. Tomorrow, the movers would show up and move her entire life across the country and Marshall would let them into her new apartment and it wouldn’t be long before she had peace and quiet and something she really appreciated doing with her time.
Freedom. It was a beautiful word.
This was the end. She was done. Done with New Jersey and done with the mess and her godammed mother and her incapable sister. Done with everything. A few weeks in DC for witsec training and then back to New Mexico and that irritating Marshall who had already broken through every wall she’d tried so carefully to construct.
Fucking cops.
It would be better than her current - no former - partner. Anything would be. It helped that she liked Marshall. Hell, she even liked the shithole Albuquerque had turned out to be. And for the first time since she’d begun her career with the Marshal’s service, no one wanted to force her out or into a new position.
It frightened her that she’d found her calling with the terrified and the criminals, but it seemed to be. At least for now. Who knew how long until she got restless again.
Moving into the wreck that was her kitchen, Mary grabbed her last beer out of the fridge and collapsed against the counter.
Freedom.
The knock on her door was completely unexpected. Scurrying quickly, reaching on instinct for her gun, she checked the peephole and stepped back, surprised and just a little bit worried to see her new, albeit temporary, boss standing in the hallway next to a very upset looking black woman. “Douglas,” she said as she opened the door, “I thought I wouldn’t see you until DC.”
“Mary,” Douglas Mackenzie stepped into her apartment, “this is US Attorney Claudia Williams. I know that this is not quite procedure and normally we wouldn’t do this, but for a lot of reasons, you’re the best in the area for this assignment, and we need a new face in play.”
“What’s going on?” Mary looked at Claudia and finally saw the red-rimmed eyes and the shaking hands. “What …” The attorney held out a file. Mary opened it to find an image of a woman who could have been her sister.
“One of my closest friends was shot tonight. Forgetting the fact that she’s a friend of mine, the mayor of Manhattan, and the Governor of New York, she’s also the heir to the Cabot family fortune.”
“The Cabot family fortune? Wait, the Cabot family who donated most of the money to fund St. Mary’s hospital, the Cabot family who sponsors scholarships for poor kids to go to law school? That Cabot family?”
“Yes. Direct descendants of John Cabot himself.” Claudia sighed tersely, “But that’s neither here nor there. All that matters is that they happen to have amassed the wealth and power equal to part of the Vatican thanks to smart investing and being all around good people.”
“And bootlegging during the twenties?”
Claudia shrugged and Mary realized she’d have smiled if it was any other moment. She shut her mouth and let the woman talk. “Alex was prosecuting a rapist who was involved with Cesar Velez.”
“The drug baron? Doesn’t he run most of New York and a good chunk of Columbia?”
“Yes.” Douglas took the lead on the conversation, “During the course of the investigation, Alex Cabot stepped into a couple of messes and a lot of evidence that put her life in danger. Credible threats led us to activate temporary protection, but the Feds screwed it up. They really can’t be blamed, but they just weren’t ready to take on the case. Hammond is a good agent and he works DEA, not protection. Alex was shot tonight, on a sidewalk in New York. The shooter is in the wind. If she wakes up, we’re putting her into protection.”
“She won’t even have a choice? She has the right to get shot at just like the rest of the population.”
“She’s too important to risk.”
“No offense, but she goes into witsec, she’s not a Cabot anymore. That whole family name won’t matter at all.” Mary bit back her more cynical response. Society princesses were not used to having their satin sheets taken away. ADA or not, Alexandra Cabot was still from a different class of people.
“It isn’t just what family she’s from, Mary.” Claudia blinked back tears, “Velez encourages his drug dealers to rape and murder the women they use. Alex has names and information involving the death of an NYPD officer at the hands of one of his minions. That minion died in his cell before we could even offer him an out through witsec. Now, he’s gunning for Alex. We’re hoping that once we seal this case, she can come out of the program and actually go back to her life. But for now, she needs to be kept safe.”
“Why pin it on me? I’m new. I barely know anything about taking care of witnesses let alone princesses like this one.”
“Or anyone.” Douglas shook his head. “There’s more. We’ve got a leak, Mary. We know for sure you aren’t it because of how new you are, so we know we can trust you. Your job, in addition to keeping the heir to one of the most powerful families in the world alive, is to find the leak. Before he kills her.”
Mary sighed. Great. “Okay.” She glanced back at the mess of her apartment. “Let’s get into Manhattan.”
***
Quite frankly, Elliot wasn’t sure what to do, other than watch, and wait. Olivia’s frightening silence was almost too much - he wanted to push her, to make her talk to him, but he knew better. To do so at this point would only result in her pushing her feelings further and further inside before she finally exploded at just the wrong moment. Poor Munch didn’t need to be on the receiving end of one of her temper tantrums.
So he waited. She wasn’t ready to leave and he wasn’t going to make her. Sitting next to her in the poorly lit hospital corridor, he watched her rub at the blood on her hands, the rusty coat of color cracking into flakes as her fingertips pushed at it. Her shirt was stained. Her jacket. She’d never get the blood out of the leather. Not completely.
“We had a fight the other night,” Olivia whispered. “After the car bombing. I … I wanted her to go upstate with her mother and she refused and I got so mad. I thought she was throwing our mutual safety under the bus for a goddamned rape case.”
In truth, Elliot was still getting used to the idea of Alex and Olivia in a relationship. He accepted it, even if he didn’t quite understand the truth that his partner was an equal opportunity dater and the Barbie-esque lawyer was in fact a lesbian. It left his world a little off-kilter. But Olivia was happy. That was all that mattered.
No, she’d been happy. Now … she was empty. He’d never seen her like this.
What would he do if he saw Kathy gunned down in the streets?
At least Olivia’s frightening silence was broken.
“What did you expect, Olivia. Alex is like a pit bull. She doesn’t give up.”
Olivia fell deathly silent again and Elliot kicked himself. Was. Alex was a pit bull. All that was left of her was a lifeless, bullet ridden corpse that the hospital wouldn’t let Olivia see because she wasn’t family. The feds had already commandeered the investigation and Alex’s body and not even Warner was allowed in to process. They’d get to say goodbye at the funeral, Hammond had barked at them.
Olivia deserved more.
They all did.
She was twisting her hands again, picking so deeply into the dried blood on her skin that he could see marks forming on her fingers. Gently, he reached over and took her hands in his and with practice that came from four messy children, he pulled a spare package of disposable wipes out of his pocket and caressed it over her skin, watching the bleached tissue turn red with what little evidence was left of Alexandra Cabot.
He realized, suddenly, he didn’t know if Alex had a middle name. Or what the inside of her apartment looked like. Or just how much she’d loved Olivia.
Quickly, Elliot blinked back tears. “Let me take you home, Liv.”
She squeezed her eyes tightly together and he knew she needed to go but she couldn’t bring herself to stand up and force herself to move toward the exit. Cragen still hovered at the end of the hall and Elliot knew he’d been arguing for them to say goodbye to Alex. He cast a glance to his boss and the older man came forward.
He knew how Cragen felt about Olivia. A man with no children and a woman always in search of a father figure, they were a perfect match for each other. Loving her as a daughter assuaged the demons Cragen always carried. Seeing Cragen as a father allowed Olivia to pretend her own father had not been such a monster.
And right now Olivia needed a father.
“Olivia,” Cragen’s voice was as gentle as the tones Elliot used with Lizzie, “go home and get some rest.”
It occurred to him that this was the moment Cragen had learned about Olivia’s relationship with Alex.
But something about the soft tone in his captain’s voice shattered whatever was left of Olivia’s composure and she bent at the waist and started to sob.
***
Everything hurt. The pain radiated from her right arm, down through to her fingernails, up into the tips of her hair, and across her body; nerves bouncing off each other at such a high rate that her brain overloaded and shut down every time she tried to open her eyes.
Her dry mouth cracked as she tried to dislodge her swollen tongue from the roof of her mouth. Her lips broke, only adding to the pain. She needed water.
Where was she?
No, she knew. She had to be in the hospital. She remembered turning and the crack of something so close to her ear and her head thudding against the sidewalk. Part of her knew she remembered Olivia screaming over her body, but it …
Had something happened to Olivia too?
Forcing her eyes open, Alex surveyed her surroundings. Gray-blue hospital walls. Brown hospital door. Black paper over the window in the door. The blinds shut so tight she had no idea if it was day or night. A frightening man in black stood just inside the door, his back to her.
“Who …”
Her whisper was louder than she expected because he turned and jumped. “Ms. Cabot, you’re awake. Hold on.”
No, she wasn’t awake. Not really. If she was awake, she wouldn’t be watching someone who reminded her of the Special Agents on The West Wing speak into something in his sleeve. When she woke up again, she’d roll over into Olivia’s arms and they’d snuggle until the alarm went off.
She wanted to pinch herself, but her hands wouldn’t move.
The door opened and a pencil necked man in a white lab coat stepped through, followed by a frustrated looking Agent Hammond. Right behind him was a woman with long blonde hair and bangs that were all too similar to her own. The strut and leather jacket reminded her of Olivia. Olivia. Where was Olivia?
“You gave us quite a scare, Ms. Cabot.”
The last time Hammond had seen her, he’d yelled at her, making her feel even more guilty for the loss of the agent who had been so helpful. She opened her mouth to speak again, but couldn’t get past her cotton tongue. The pencil necked doctor gently spooned some ice chips between her lips.
“What happened?” She finally whispered.
“You were shot. Twice. Once in the arm,” the doctor was speaking, “it went through the soft tissue - you’ll need some rehab in that muscle but it should come back completely. The second bullet hit your shoulder, again through and through, but nicked an artery, which led to substantial blood loss. The concussion you sustained when you hit the ground didn’t help matters.”
“What ... Olivia?”
“She’s fine,” Hammond spoke up again. “But …” he was suddenly at a loss for words and so he looked to the blonde. She stepped forward and then took a seat next to the bed. Her fingers were soft where they curled around Alex’s.
“Olivia’s fine,” the blonde said, “she wasn’t hit. She wasn’t even a target. You, however … we had to move fast. Officially, Alex, you’re dead. I’m Mary Shepherd with the Witness Protection Program. I’m here to help you with your relocation.”
Alex closed her eyes, now completely sure this was a nightmare and when she rolled over, Olivia’s arms would wrap around her and they could snuggle together and Olivia would kiss away the worst of the dreams.
But her body didn’t cooperate when she told it to move and the only warmth in her body was Mary’s fingers on hers. Again, she opened her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“Velez wants you dead, Alex.” Mary was speaking again. “And the only way to get him to stop was to make him think you were. We’re working on infiltrating his organization, but the fewer people who know you’re alive, the better.”
“I … don’t get a choice?” She needed more ice chips.
Olivia thought she was dead. Olivia …
Olivia thought she was dead.
“Not this time. If we don’t protect you, Alex, he is going to kill you. Hopefully, though, when we get this cleared up, we might be able to bring you out of the program and return you to your life.”
Her body started to shake. Olivia thought she was dead. Olivia … “I …” She didn’t want this. She wanted to go home and crawl into bed and laugh while Olivia made chicken soup from a can - even though she was perfectly capable of doing it completely from scratch. “No.”
“Ms. Cabot …”
Hammond’s voice grated on her and she shook harder and bit her lip and her teeth sunk through the dry, cracked skin and she tasted blood. “No! You can’t do this to me against my will!”
“And if we let you back on the streets, you’ll be dead within twenty-four hours.” Mary’s voice was tough, but there was a note of gentle compassion. Olivia’s voice was like that when she talked to victims.
Tears choked her and she tried to sit up but the pain in her shoulder was too much and her head ached and she collapsed back onto the bed. “You have to let me say goodbye,” she sobbed, accepting the cage they’d thrown her in to. “You have to let me say goodbye.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Mary’s voice continued on. “No one can know, Alex.”
“No!” She choked against the tears and the doctor cast worried glances at the agents in the room. “No! I’m not … no!” The doctor shook his head and Alex wondered if he was one of them. He had to be, since no one could know. “I have to say goodbye to her .. you have to … please. Please. Please.” She pulled her fingers away from Mary’s grip and tightened them in the blanket. “I won’t do this unless you agree. If you want me alive, then you have to let me see her.” Alex choked again. “I get to say goodbye.”
She heard Mary sigh and knew they were hoping she’d fall asleep again. Her eyelids were heavy. Her body screamed for rest. But if she fell asleep before they gave in, she knew she’d never get the chance. With what was left of her strength (the doctor had to have put a sedative back in her IV) she stared at the woman who was supposed to be protecting her and then over her shoulder at the bulky, sulking Hammond. She knew how to read people. Mary wouldn’t budge but she could work Hammond. “You’re building a case against Velez,” she choked out, her tongue slurring. Yes, pencil neck had given her a sedative. “And if you want my testimony and my case knowledge, you give me this one request.”
The room fell silent. Alex counted her heartbeats to stay awake and worried that the next time she opened her eyes, she’d be in a hospital in Alaska. But she had to try. She refused to close her eyes until Hammond gave in. The room spun around her and she was sure, absolutely sure, pink elephants were dancing in the corner, but she was going to get this promise before she gave in to the sedative.
“All right. I’ll arrange it.”
Alex crashed into the pillow, asleep before her body registered anything else.
***
Barely controlling her anger, Mary Shannon kept her composure long enough to follow Inspector Cotton and Agent Hammond into the conference room they’d commandeered as a command post. Only after the door was locked behind them did she lash out.
“How dare you compromise her security like that? Just for a meet up with someone who happened to be on the street with her? The US Attorney will have our heads if anything happens to her and I happen to like my job.”
“It’s only fair, Mary,” Hammond’s voice was defeated. “You’ve read her file.”
“Of course …” Mary leaned back and the wall caught her as she remembered the notation in the file. “Oh …”
“If Alex were married, we’d be able to ask her husband if she wanted to join her in the program. But she’s not. If Olivia was on the threat list, it would be a no brainer. But, for reasons passing understanding, she’s not. She deserves this at least.”
“Okay.” Mary let out a slow breath. “I’ll set it up.”
‘No.” Hammond shook his head. “I will. You maintain security here and finish getting things set up for her.” He looked at Cotton, “How soon can we move her?”
“Her vitals are fine and she’s going to be in pain more than anything else. Another day or two for her head, I suppose. We can rehab her after she’s moved.”
“Good.” Hammond ran a hand over his head. “All right.” He looked long and hard at Mary. “It’s your job to get her to understand this.”
“I know.”
“So go sit with her until she wakes up.”
With a sigh, Mary nodded. Grabbing the file off the table so she could finish memorizing it, she headed back down the hallway and into the secure room where her witness slept.
***
Olivia lit a candle and settled back onto the couch, the gold chain of the necklace laced through her fingers, wrapping around Alex’s ADA badge. In the dark, silent apartment, the candle glowed, haunting, the same eerie look as the votives in the church where they’d gathered around an urn that held only the ashes of an empty coffin.
Elliot had wanted to stay. She’d almost let him. But when he’d followed her through her door, his hand so supportive on her back, she’d suddenly needed time and space and the silence she was going to have to get used to.
Without Alex.
“Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, I worry about you as well, Olivia? Maybe I don’t want to disappear because if I do they’ll go after you! I’m not hiding, Olivia. If I start now, I’ll never stop.”
But now Alex was hiding. She’d been whisked away by men in trench coats; tucked into a black suburban and escorted out of town to a new life, a home somewhere where she could blend in with the rest of the population. She’d get a new job and a new name and someday fall in love with someone else.
The intoning of the priest, accented by the aching sobs of Alex’s mother, played in an incessant loop over and over in her mind. Gloria had made the trip down from the home upstate, the place she’d decided she wanted to die, to sit in her wheelchair at her daughter’s grave. Olivia had wanted to tell her, to reassure her that Alex was safe, but instincts held her back. A dying woman would stop at nothing to see her child one last time. That much she knew.
Alex’s father had stood stock still, angry at the world, his glare and blame leveled on Olivia. During the wake, he’d stayed far away from all the law enforcement types who had gathered to pay their respects. Even Judge Bill Harriman had been given the cold shoulder.
“She’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you.”
Olivia bit her lip and tasted blood. Consciously, logically, she knew the words were spoken out of anger and that they all knew the only person to blame for Alex’s “death” was the one who had shot her. But she should have protected her.
She should have convinced Alex to drop the case.
The cold metal of Alex’s ADA badge pressed into her hands. The family hadn’t wanted it. Alex’s younger sister, Angela, had come by with a box. Pictures and love notes and the ring box Alex had squirreled away with the gold necklace that had apparently been a planned Christmas gift.
Why couldn’t she have gone with? She’d been on that street too.
Olivia pressed the badge to her forehead, shuddering. She’d finally given in. She’d finally fallen in love. She’d finally let her walls down. But what if this was something Alex wanted? She was free now - to start over and meet someone new. She could have a perfectly relaxing life away from all of the stresses of New York.
Tears fell, unbidden. She was tired of crying. Tired of the empty void that had only expanded once she knew Alex was alive. It was selfish, she knew. Alex was alive. And she’d be kept safe with the feds and the new name and the new identity would become something Alex would embrace.
She’d teach poetry to hapless students at a community college. The students would fall all over themselves to listen to her read Edna St. Vincent Millay and Adrienne Rich and Emily Dickinson. Just like Olivia had the first time they’d stretched out on Alex’s bed, covered in massage oil, the candle light reflecting off their slick skin, when Alex had opened her eyes to poets Olivia had never cared to read.
She’d spend her days in the local art gallery, crafting exhibits that featured artists from underserved communities. It would be a small place - cinderblock walls to be repainted with ever show and bad wooden floorboards held together with spit, polish, and prayer.
She’d fall in love with someone who came home at night, who didn’t ask questions, who didn’t care that she didn’t talk about her past. They’d have dogs and cats and Alex would linger in the stores, staring at the fish tanks.
Olivia just didn’t know how she’d move on.
***
Alex wasn’t quite sure if she liked this other woman or if she wanted to kill her. Ironically, she’d felt the same way about Olivia when she first met her.
She stared at the wall of the dingy hotel room, reminded of the ski trip when the hotel for the team had burned down and they’d ended up at a Motel Six on the other side of the town. She’d spent most of the night in an all night diner across the street, talking to some girl who wandered in looking for a cup of coffee and a safe space.
Amelia. The girl’s name had been Amelia.
She sighed and collapsed onto the bed and winced. Her shoulder ached.
“Can I ask a question?”
“You’re a cop.” Alex shrugged.
“Why the DA’s office? With your family pedigree? Any law office in the world would have wanted you.”
Tears touched her eyes. “It seems so silly … but … I wanted to be in politics. It was such a perfect place to start. Looks good on the resume, you know. But then I got assigned to SVU and my mindset started to change. My mother worked for the ACLU for the longest time - she was a civil rights lawyer back in the 60’s and inspired me. I knew I didn’t really want to do civil rights law, but I liked the DA’s office. I liked getting criminals off the streets.” She stared at her hands. “Now that’s all off the table isn’t it? Can’t even step foot into a law office, can I?”
“Nothing, Alex. Especially in your case. Your family is too well known. We usually encourage people to keep their first names, we can’t even do that with you. Now you can use your law background - teach maybe. Research is a good idea. Just not … for anything connected to law or politics.”
“Yeah.” Alex wiped her eyes. “All because some asshole drug dealer …” she sucked in a breath. “God, my sister Angela’s going to inherit the family trust. She can barely manage her hair let alone …” she paused. “How does that work?”
“You’re officially dead, Alex. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
“What about my things?”
“We’ll ship what we can of your things to you once you’re settled in Houston. The rest will be put in storage for you, since we’re hoping to be able to release you from the program. Also, when it comes to your money, and we’ll go over that officially, but we’ll work on transferring your accounts, at your discretion to your new identity.”
“Are you guys actually planning on getting me out of this program?”
“That’s the end goal, Alex.”
“Then …” she sighed and rubbed her hand over her face, wondering how she’d explain it to her family when she did get to go home. “I can’t think about all of this right now.”
“You don’t have to. Not until we get to Houston. Then we’ll go over all the details, get your identity settled. We can help you look for work, look for a place to live. You’ll be fine, Alex.”
“What’s my new name going to be?”
“You can choose.”
“Really? How about it stays the same? How about we get in that car and drive back to New York and you just drop me off in front of Olivia’s apartment …”
“Alex …”
“I know … I know …” Alex wiped her eyes again. “I just … the look on her face. She’s heartbroken. I’ve left her there … and …”
“She knows you’re alive. She knows you’ll be safe.”
“Safe?”
“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, Alex. But I promise.”
Alex shrunk in on herself and collapsed back on the bed. “I promised myself I wouldn’t sulk. Cabot’s don’t sulk. But I just want to go home.”
“It’ll get easier.”
“Really?” Alex barely held her temper in check. “Really? Because I’d like to know how you’d feel if you couldn’t read cop journals or connect yourself to firing ranges or ever step into a courtroom again? Everything I have ever done in my life has been to get justice for someone else. I have lived and breathed the law and now I can’t speak about it again. To anyone.”
“I know.”
Alex had been expecting sympathy. What she got was gentle firmness and it forced her brain out of its self-pity mode. “Can I still root for the Celtics?”
“Yeah,” Mary smiled, “I’d stay away from the Knicks though. You’d stand out like crazy. There aren’t that many fans left and really … ones who look like you would be pretty memorable.”
“Gave up on them a long time ago.” Alex flipped through the Newsweek she’d picked up when they stopped for gas and sighed. This was the closest she was ever going to get to the law again. “Maybe I’ll work for a sports team. PR or something. You’re taking me to Houston. Maybe I can infiltrate the Rockets organization and help turn the fans against them.”
Mary laughed and Alex flashed her a tired smile. She hated this. Hated all of it. But it wasn’t Mary’s fault she was in this place. The US Attorney hadn’t given her a choice. Opting out was always available to her, but she knew better. Velez wanted her dead. She knew too much and someday, she wanted to go home.
It was about more than the rape and murder of an NYPD officer. She knew about the drug running and the mules as young as four and the women he sold into slavery both overseas and to companies in the states who utilized them for high priced political activity. The files she’d uncovered in her searching had exposed names and dates and there were things she knew, things she’d shared with Claudia before she’d been shot, that would make any sane criminal want her dead.
Velez would rot in prison. They wanted him extradited, but to send him back to Columbia would only mean giving him new power in his old territory. The drug barons were the real rulers in South America. And in New York it seemed.
She rubbed her eyes again and glanced at the phone. Her choice to pursue this case had ended everything with Olivia. Everything. If she ever got to go home again, she’d go home to see Olivia with someone new.
Would Olivia get the necklace and the ring?
Her shoulder hurt. Wincing, Alex climbed off the bed and moved to the small vanity area. The tepid tap water left a metallic taste in her mouth as she downed one of her pain pills and one of the valium the doctor, who was also the other Inspector protecting her apparently, had prescribed.
The drugs would knock her out. She needed to erase everything. Just for a little while.
TBC …