A/N:I've decided to start a new writing journey, and hopefully at least one person will be willing to take this journey with me. I truly hope that you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Law and Order: SVU. That honor goes to the good folks over at NBC.
Spoilers:None.
Summary:No matter how hard you try, you can't save them all. But maybe, just maybe, you can still make a difference.
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"I should have been able to stop it," Olivia anxiously ran her hands through her short cropped hair, pacing back and forth in front of Alex's desk. "I mean, I saw the signs! I should have been able to reach her. I should have been able to make her stop!"
"No," Alex slowly and calmly shook her head, leaning against the front of her desk. "You couldn't have stopped her, Olivia. You did your best; she wasn't ready to accept help."
"She wasn't able to accept help," Olivia corrected her friend, continuing to pace back and forth. Staring at Alex with an expression of anguish on her face, she struggled to keep the tears at bay. "I should have stayed with her until she was able to accept the help that I was offering. I should have—"
"You should have what?" Alex softly interjected, getting to her feet so that she could stand in front of Olivia. "You couldn't camp out on her doorstep, Liv, no matter how much you wanted to."
"But maybe I could have talked her into seeing a counselor or a therapist," Olivia's brown eyes grew somewhat watery with the force of her emotions. "Or maybe I could have done something else to help her."
"Like what?" Alex again asked, resting a comforting hand on the older woman's arm.
"I don't know," the detective shrugged. "Just… I should have done something," she finished, angry with herself as several tears slowly slid down her cheeks. She hated to cry, and more importantly, she hated to cry in front of an audience.
Pulling Olivia into a loose embrace, Alex sighed. "You couldn't have done any more than what you did to help her, Liv. She might have committed suicide at one point or another anyhow, regardless of what you could or could not do to help her. You did your best; you have to believe that."
"But my best wasn't good enough," Olivia mumbled. "Not this time, and not by a long shot."
"Olivia, no matter how hard you try, you can't save them all," Alex tried again.
"But why not?' the detective asked, her voice shaky. "Why can't I?"
"Because it's impossible."
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"You're fat," Ryan loudly called out, approaching the eighth grade girl's lunch room table. Taking an uninvited seat across from her, he smirked. "And ugly. You're an ugly fatso. Where'd you buy your clothes?" he continued to taunt her, his eyes sparkling with pure amusement. "Goodwill? The Salvation Army? Your grandmother's house?"
"Nah, the garbage!" Luke laughed, taking a seat beside his best-friend and soccer star teammate.
Courtney stared at the two boys in confusion, not really sure how to respond to their words. Her face bright red, and her fork hovering over her school-made, rubbery mashed potatoes, she lowered her heads and tried to ignore their verbal jabs.
"And you smell," Ryan wrinkled his nose, leaning back in his chair. "Yo, everybody! Courtney is a big, fat, stupid moron who smells like moldy cheese!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.
Courtney sank further into her chair, the color now draining from her face as she realized that the cafeteria of one hundred students was completely, utterly, unequivocally silent, save for the titters of a few of her classmates. Please stop, she wanted to tell Ryan.
"And look at her glasses!" Luke pointed out, making sure that he could be heard throughout the room. "Dude, those glasses are from the eighties."
A couple of more students snickered.
Just stop, Courtney again thought to herself, unconsciously touching the bright red rims of her brand new glasses. Please, just leave me alone.
"Why is your face all red?" Ryan asked, leaning over the table as much as he could so that Courtney would be forced to look at him. "Are you crying?"
Courtney shook her head no. She wasn't crying. Not yet, anyhow. "Just go away," she mumbled under her breath.
Luke laughed, reaching a finger out and lightly poking her arm. "Why would we go away now, when you're so close to crying?"
"Please, just go away," Courtney softly repeated, a tear slowly trickling down her cheeks. "I didn't do anything to you."
"You're breathing," Ryan laughed. "And you're sitting at my table, walking my halls, and eating my food."
Courtney remained silent, praying that no one was listening to the conversation. Yes, the room was big, and yes, there were many students at lunch, but she hoped that no one would care enough to listen to what Ryan and Luke were saying to her.
But there was no such luck.
Sneaking a look at the faces of her fellow-classmates, a few more tears trickled down Courtney's face when she noticed that everyone, even the cafeteria monitors, were simply staring at her to see what her reaction would be. "This school belongs to everyone," she bravely whispered, her gaze returning to her mashed potatoes.
"No it doesn't, and don't you forget it," Ryan smirked, digging his finger into Courtney's mashed potatoes and smearing the food on her face. "Fatso, let me help you with your lunch."
Swallowing back even more tears, Courtney sniffled, finally getting to her feet. Leaving her tray on the table, she backed away from the boys. Why won't you leave me alone?
"I know the food is bad," Luke smiled, "But it's not even good enough for you? Really?"
Turning around and escaping through the nearest exit, the only sounds that could be heard above the sounds of her own sobbing were the sounds of her classmates' laughter.
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TO BE CONTINUED