Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns them, not me.
Here's a missing scene from "Scorched Earth". Established A/O. Alex and Olivia talk. Enjoy!
Olivia heard the apartment door open and smiled to herself. "Hey, you," she called to Alex.
Alex padded into the living room a moment later, having shed her suit jacket and left her briefcase in the hallway. She sat down on the couch beside Olivia, a pensive expression on her face.
"What's up?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean today. Believing the victim even when the evidence suggests that she might not be telling the truth. Being so adamant about prosecuting even though it's going to be an uphill battle, instead of being on my ass about finding you more evidence."
Alex sighed. "I thought we agreed not to bring work home with us."
"We're not. I just notice my girlfriend is acting out of character and naturally, I get concerned. So what's up?"
Alex smiled at hearing herself being referred to as Olivia's girlfriend. She had really missed Olivia while she was in Africa, and hearing the term of affection made her heart swell with joy. She hadn't heard it in so long. "Nothing's up. I just know, just as you do, that victims always hold something back. That doesn't mean they aren't victims. It just means they're afraid."
"Oh, I know that. I just never realized you did."
Alex looked at Olivia, trying to gauge exactly how much to tell her. The stories she'd heard in the Congo had disturbed her, kept her up every night, and she knew firsthand that those kinds of stories were tough to hear, especially so late at night. "I just –" Alex sighed and tried again. "Look, Liv. Every day, I listened to victims tell me their heartbreaking, heartbreaking stories. No matter what I did for them, it just never seemed like enough. Sure, I could try to put away the bastards who raped them, but there were always a million more out there. I could comfort them after the fact, like you do, but I couldn't make it go away. I couldn't even feed their hungry children. There were just so many of them, and I did what I could, and I liked it, at first. I really was making a difference.
"But eventually, that sort of job just eats away at your soul, a bit at a time. I was burned out. I wasn't helping anyone anymore. I was too cynical, too weary. I would sit and listen to these poor women with deadened eyes telling me again how they'd been raped in front of their children, how their husbands had been killed, how their kids had been hurt . . . it was just too much. I always thought that going there, going to the other end of the world, that I could do good work, sure, but I would realize who I really was, especially after Witness Protection. But Alex Cabot doesn't belong in Africa, any more than she did in Wisconsin, or North Carolina, or Pennsylvania."
Olivia reached over to take Alex's hand. "No," she said quietly. "She belongs in New York, with me."
Alex smiled weakly and wrapped her arms around Olivia, pulling her close. "God, I missed you so much."
Olivia kissed the crown of Alex's head. "I missed you, too."
They sat silently for a moment, holding each other, before Alex said, "But you know, it was good for me, being there. It taught me a lot, gave me a new perspective on things. One I think you'll appreciate."
"You did a good thing by going there, Alex, even if I couldn't see it at first. I'm sure you've helped a lot of people."
"Oh, I know I did. But it just didn't seem like enough. Those children were wasting away on the outside, and their mothers were wasting away from the inside. I guess I learned to feel their pain. And Miriam's. Liv, even if she lied to get into the country, can you blame her? Who's to say that being raped by one man is any less traumatizing than being raped by twelve?"
"The government."
"And they're wrong. There was this one woman I remember – one of the lucky ones I thought, at first. The soldiers killed her first husband, but she had a new husband, and they had a house. Well, not a house like a house in New York, but a . . . dwelling. And they looked so happy. Until I saw him hitting her one day. I told her she could leave him. She asked where she would go. I said there were places, and then I remembered, not there. Violence is so widespread. She thought she was lucky just to have a man. She said things could have been worse. He was just hitting her, he could have raped her like most of the women in her village had been . . ." Alex sighed. "Look, all that I'm saying is, no one form of abuse is any more acceptable than another. They're all morally reprehensible. Being raped by one man should qualify you for asylum just as much as being raped by twelve."
"I agree. But she still lied. And you know, I'm really tired of people lying to me."
"Do you believe that she was raped, Olivia?"
"I believe that something happened, and I believe that she didn't want it. Do I believe that he entered that hotel room intending to rape her? I'm not sure. But really, as you said, it doesn't matter. Whether she said no at first, or after a minute, or after ten minutes, or after twenty, is irrelevant. If she said no, he should have stopped. And I believe she said no."
"I do, too, Liv. I've heard so many stories just like hers . . . I believe she was raped in the Sudan, and I believe she was taken advantage of in that hotel room. And I'm going to get her justice."
Olivia smiled and nuzzled Alex's neck. "I know you will."
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