A/N: Okay, my first SVU fic, it was written for my college English class. Basically we had to pick any scene and write it from 2 different POV's. This one's Olivia's POV. SPOILERS: Loss, episode 4 from season 5!

You slowly stepped out of the black SUV. The blonde hair that usually graced your shoulders was pulled back tightly. I stared silently without blinking, searing the image into my mind. Your pink scarf. The brown jacket and blue jeans. And the black boots that I'm sure were mine at some point.

I stood there in shock, my mouth slightly open. Tears burned my eyes. There's so much I wanted to say…that I tried to say to you.

"I'm so sorry about all of this," you said sincerely. You looked from me to Elliot and then back to me, asking our forgiveness.

"Your funeral's tomorrow," I managed. I was aware that I was crying, but I wasn't coherent enough to brush the tears away.

"And your both expected to attend," I nearly jumped; I had forgotten about the Federal Marshals guarding their charge, "For the time being, Ms. Cabot's better off dead. If Velez can get to Zapata, he can get to her." Elliot reached the conclusion before I did.

"Witness protection."

My mind struggled to wrap around the concept and I felt like I was drowning. I needed a life jacket to save me from the current of emotions that threatened me. When you stepped out of the car I was surprised, but grateful that you were alive. I was scared, knowing that a midnight rendezvous couldn't mean good news. I've been wishing for a second chance; I had so much I wanted, no, needed to tell you, and when I had it, I couldn't speak.

For the past three years, you've played such an amazing role in the lives you've touched. You've been a colleague, friend and confidante for our entire unit. Alex, you've always stood behind us, whether we were right or wrong. You've always trusted us; we've never given you a reason to doubt. Now I feel like we've let you down.

"How long?" I finally asked; knowing that question might never be answered.

Always composed, you simply shrugged. I've always admired your grace and poise and, since that moment, I've admired your strength. Especially with everything you've been through these past few weeks. You've had a few days to think about the news, and I'm sure you've already cried all your tears.

"We're on the move, sorry folks. Move them out," he ordered. The Marshal opened the door for you. I wanted nothing more than to stop you, even for just a few seconds. Instead I watched solemnly as you slid into the vehicle. You looked at us, a silent reassurance that everything would be okay. They shut the door and I watched as the SUV pulled away, taking you –whoever you are now- for your second chance.