Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns them, not me.
Alex gets back to her house in Wisconsin after a long, exhausting, emotionally draining day at work. In another time, in another place, so long ago she can barely remember, Olivia would have been waiting for her at the door. She would have heard all about Alex's hard day through the courthouse grapevine, through Serena or even Liz, because Olivia always did like to keep tabs on her girlfriend, just to make sure she was okay. Just so she could come and see Alex and take her out for lunch or even just give her a hug if she wasn't.
Olivia would have been there for her tonight, Alex knows. Olivia would have helped her out of her coat and wrapped Alex's trembling body into a warm hug, and just held her for several long minutes until Alex was ready to sit down in the living room and tell Olivia what had happened to upset her. And Alex would have talked; she might even have cried a little. Olivia would have held her close, not interrupting Alex's story but reassuring her physically that she was listening and that she was there with gentle kisses or by threading her fingers through Alex's hair. Alex would have calmed, eventually, and although the feelings and the pain would still be there, she would have been able to cope with it, with Olivia.
But tonight, there is nobody. The house is so quiet, and Alex is so lonely, and she knows there is no one for her to call. She would like to call Olivia. She would like to call Serena, or Abbie, or even her mother and pour out this horrible thing that happened today. But she knows she can't.
She's a teacher, here in Wisconsin. Teaching law to a class of tenth graders isn't the greatest gig in the world, but she didn't exactly have much of a choice. And throughout the school year, some of these children have wormed their way into her heart. Of course she's not Alex here; she's Emily Richards, and most of the things she says to her students are lies. But still. She cares for them. And today, she was told that one of her students, dare she say one of her favorite students, had committed suicide.
She feels responsible. She'd sat with Julia for nearly two hours in class every day, and she hadn't known a single thing was wrong. They'd had discussions sometimes, heated arguments about the Patriot Act and the death penalty and what the founding fathers had really intended when they wrote the Constitution. Alex had enjoyed it, if only because this girl was bright enough to provide some of the intellectual stimulation she was sorely lacking in all other aspects of her life, and because it pleased her somewhat to think that there were things that she could teach others, things that they would want to learn from her. She had felt content, almost, when discussing whether illegally obtained evidence should be admitted under any circumstances or whether there should be minimum sentences for property crimes. At ease. This was something she rarely felt in Wisconsin. It was almost like being in a constitutional law class again, in law school, debating with her fellow students or occasionally even her professors, and Alex enjoyed it. She imagined Judge Petrovsky would find these discussions amusing.
Olivia should have been there for her tonight, holding her and reassuring Alex it wasn't her fault, even though she feels like it is, that she should have seen the signs, known something was amiss. But Alex is all alone.
With shaking hands, she picks up the phone to dial Olivia's number, but she hangs up quickly. You know better, her own voice rebukes her in her head.
She sits down on the couch and wraps herself in a blanket, not even bothering to change into more comfortable attire. She closes her eyes and thinks about how it must have felt for Julia as she slid that rope around her neck, knowing that in just a few short minutes, it would all be over. How all she had to do was give the rope one tug, and then she would fly. Alex envies that, the knowledge that there is a way out and the idea that it is her choice whether or not to take that way out. That she can choose.
Her eyes snap open as she thinks of Olivia, how it would break Olivia's heart to know she's even thinking this way. Furious at herself, Alex feels a tear slip down her cheek and stares out the window, out at the expanse of green that stretches for miles, trees that would never exist in the city where she was born and raised. Soon, Olivia, she thinks. I will be home soon. You did everything you could to keep me safe, and I will keep myself safe for you.
She banishes Julia from her mind, though she knows the girl will haunt her dreams. Instead, she gets up and goes to fix herself a cup of coffee, humming the Mr. Softee song and conjuring in her mind the sparkling of Olivia's deep chocolate eyes when she sees Alex walk into a room. I choose Olivia, she thinks, and smiles.
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