A/N: Yay a new story! I really had no clue what to call this story so I just like took a quote from what she thinks. Please leave a review and I will try and update as soon as possible. Enjoy :)

"Barnett, put your hands where I can see them!" Olivia stood less than five feet from the perp they had been trying to catch for three weeks now. Her gun was drawn, pointed at his chest. She could hear sirens in the distance; she knew it was Fin and Rollins. She and Amaro had chased Michael Barnett on foot. She had lost Nick a while ago, but she knew he knew where she was when she radioed him five minutes ago.

"Barnett put the gun down now."

He didn't answer. He just stood there, pointing the gun at Olivia's chest.

"Don't think I won't shoot you; because I will." Olivia readied herself.

Just as she was about to ask him to put the gun down one more time, the squad car Fin and Rollins were in came around the corner.

There was a loud noise. Olivia felt a sharp pain. She put her hand on her chest and fell to the ground; her blood beginning to pool around her.

"10-13! 10-13! We have an officer down." Rollins came running to Olivia while Fin arrested Barnett.

"Okay, Liv, you have to stay with me. Look in my eyes. Stay with me." Rollins had tears in her eyes as she applied pressure to the gunshot wound on her Sergeants chest. It was just below her right collar bone.

Nick and Fin came running to where Olivia and Rollins where. Nick was pale, he stood back a few feet. He was in total shock.

"Come on, Liv. Stay with us." Fin pleaded. He and Amanda were applying pressure to the wound.

Olivia began slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Liv the ambulance is just about here. Just hang on a little bit longer. Come on Liv."

The last thing she remembered was the paramedics jumping out of the ambulance before the world went black.

It was quiet. Too quiet. There was no sirens, or cars or anything. Just the wind slightly blowing through the trees. She sat on the front deck of her new home in Montana.

The town had a population of about 600 people. The street she lived on had 8 houses, 6 of which were actually lived in. Her house was one of the bigger ones on the street. It was two stories, had a deck that wrapped around the whole house, and a sunroom on the second floor above the deck roof. She had to admit, the house was beautiful; but it was big for only one person.

She hadn't met any of her neighbours yet. She had only moved in a week ago, and this was the first time she had actually left her house.

She looked at the time on her watch, 5:48 pm. She was beginning to feel hungry. She stood from her seat on the deck and went towards the door to cook supper.

"Excuse me?"

She turned around and saw a woman, probably about mid 30's standing on the sidewalk leading up to her deck holding a casserole dish.

"I noticed you moved in a few days ago and I wanted to welcome you to our neighbourhood. I made this casserole for you, in case you haven't had time to go get groceries yet."

She walked down the three steps from the deck so she was standing on the sidewalk in front of the woman.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that, but thank you." She smiled and accepted the casserole from the woman.

"I'm Iris Thompson by the way." She smiled kindly.

"Monica Baxter."

"It's nice to meet you, Monica. I live in the house just across the street. If you need anything like directions or something feel free to drop by. I also have two sons, Eric is nine and Weston is seven. They always are interested when there is a new neighbour, so if they knock on your door, just send them home."

Monica laughed slightly. "I don't mind. I love kids. And I'll be sure to get this dish back to you soon."

"Oh its fine. No rush. So do you have kids? Married?"

She shook her head. "No. No husband, no kids. I came from Chicago, I wanted a change."

Iris nodded. "Well welcome to Montana! It's boring yet peaceful here. You are pretty much in the middle of nowhere now, so there isn't a lot to do like in the city."

"I think that is the change I needed. Just a calm area."

Iris nodded. "Well I better go, I have three hungry boys to feed. I'll talk with you later, Monica. Bye!"

She watched as Iris left her yard and then went into the house. She locked the door behind her, still not comfortable with where she was yet. She set the casserole on the on the island and cut a piece for herself. She sat at the bar stool and began eating.

Tears filled her eyes. Soon the few tears turned to sobs. She was homesick. She hated being someone she wasn't. Today was the first time she had ever introduced herself as her cover.

Olivia Benson was dead. Her life in New York never existed.

She missed Fin, Amaro and even Rollins. She hated the fact that they thought she was dead. She hated the fact that all the people Olivia has ever known or worked with or helped thought she was dead. Olivia Benson, was dead.

Monica Baxter was alive. No one here knows that Olivia Benson ever existed. That's how it is supposed to be. Olivia Benson, the decorated Sergeant of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit, never lived. Monica Baxter, the realtor from Chicago, she existed.

She pushed her food away. She couldn't eat anymore. She missed the city. She missed everything about New York. She hated Montana. It was too calm and quiet. She hated the fact that she had to be a realtor now. She would give anything to have her life back.

She put the casserole into the fridge. It had been a long week and she needed rest. She climbed the stairs and went into her new bedroom. She put on her pyjamas and fell asleep thinking about her old life in New York.