Another attempt to purge my needlessly complicated feelings about Bensidy, and also because that line in their breakup had such a ring of prophecy. If you've had the misfortune of reading my other story, this one is about a million percent less anti-Cassidy (though still slightly angsty, because apparently I can't write anything else).
2014
He was waiting for her as she stepped out of IAB's interrogation room, only a day after she'd faced off with William Lewis for the third and final time. Olivia almost didn't notice at first, her thoughts racing and her stomach in a tight knot of anxiety in the aftermath of the interview.
She jumped when a hand touched her arm lightly, and she looked up to find Brian Cassidy staring back at her with concern.
"Hey," Cassidy said. "I heard what happened."
You and the rest of the world, she thought, but said nothing, nodding her acknowledgement.
He was looking at her closely. "How are you feeling? Are you... doing okay?"
"Fine," she said automatically. Maybe she was about to lose her job and maybe she was about to be charged with murder of the man who'd tortured her to the edge of sanity, but that somehow didn't even crack the list of the top five bad things that had happened to her in the last year. So yes, things were fine.
Cassidy shook his head, frustrated, and she couldn't tell if it was with her or himself. But when he looked back at her, there was only the soft-eyed concern.
"Do you... do you want me to come by or anything? Drop by after work?"
For a moment, she actually considered it. She'd found that the nightmares were almost worse this time. She woke up gasping in the night sometimes after a dream of blood and pain, a scream just behind her lips. She'd reach beside her out of habit, to reassure herself that she was at home, that she was safe. Only to find herself alone.
Brian had been obtuse and frustrating at times, but at least he'd been there. He'd been a force of consistency and predictability in her life, and she found that despite everything part of her still wanted him back.
But maybe that was just the fear speaking - the fear that had led them to rush things in the first place. He'd come over, and maybe he'd end up staying the night, and then one thing would lead to another. And then a year from now they'd be standing apart under the cold street lights, explaining to themselves as much as each other why they couldn't make things work.
And that would be unfair to them both.
She shook her head instead, trying for a smile. "I'll be fine," she said.
He smiled back. "I know you will."
And for some reason, she could almost believe it.
2015
Seeing an ex after a breakup was always an awkward experience, no matter how amicable or mutual the parting. While she and Brian were dating, it sometimes felt like they could go days without seeing each other, but in the weeks after their separation, it seemed as though they ran into one another every time they turned a corner.
Their meetings were always cordial, all bright smiles and exaggerated courtesy, but as brief as they could manage. Seeing him always left her feeling vaguely unsettled for a while - not with regret but with wistfulness. A small pang of melancholy for what could have been.
Perhaps he found these experiences as uncomfortable as she did, or perhaps their schedules simply shifted again, because after a while, she didn't see him for months, except as a brief flash of brown hair down a hallway, or a glimpse of his face as she walked out of the elevator.
So she didn't speak to him again until nearly a week after the new year. She was heading home, half her mind on a case, the other half on Noah, when she quite literally bumped into him at the door.
"Sorry," they both said at once, and then she laughed awkwardly, turning to slip by him. He stopped her as she passed by, his head tilted slightly.
"Hey," he said. "I heard you have a son now."
"Yeah," she said, and there was something like wonder in her tone. After all these months she still felt awe at this little scrap of life, who would watch her with wide eyes, who would smile and reach out for her in the morning cooing nonsense words. Even now it was hard to believe he might be hers.
Cassidy smiled, looking at the ground. "Congratulations. I know that's what you always wanted."
"It is," she said softly.
"Maybe I'll drop by and see him sometime."
"I'd like that," she said, even though they both knew he wouldn't. Even if either of them had time for a social life right now, he hadn't really shown much interest in children. Still, she found that she appreciated the offer.
They smiled at each other again and went their separate ways. As she walked down the stairs at the front of the building, she thought to herself that maybe they had finally reached the point where they could be friends again. Where they could nod to each other in the hallway without feeling strange.
And as fractured as her life had been, maybe that was worth something.
2016
When Olivia first joined SVU, it had been a unit famed for its high turnover. But for over a decade it had been one of the most stable squads in the precinct, and a childish part of her had believed it would last forever. But Elliot's departure seemed to have been the harbinger of things to come, and sometimes she thought she could almost see the familiar relationships dissolving before her eyes. Munch and Cragen had retired in quick succession, and Fin had finally quit too, only a month ago, after a particularly difficult case with a child molester.
Amaro and Rollins had been gone by then as well. Amaro had moved across the country -(even if I can't save my marriage, I have to be able to see my daughter)- and Rollins had transferred to Vice. Their replacements too, already seemed on the edge of departure. But by then Olivia was used to change. Everyone left eventually. Except for her.
She felt sometimes that she might become Cragen, ensconced behind her desk, reining in the hotheaded new detective, viewed as more of an institution than a person. The thought was amusing and frightening in equal measure.
But if people were temporary, the tension between SVU and IAB might very well be eternal. She strode into their squad room, halting before Cassidy's desk.
"What the hell were you thinking?" she said, cutting him off before he could speak.
Cassidy stared back at her, meeting her challenge with his own. "What are you talking about?"
"Detective Wilkins. You're recommending a two months suspension and a demotion. Why?"
Cassidy looked incredulous. "He put a guy in the hospital."
"He was defending himself," she hissed back. "That rapist threw the first punch, or did you not read that far in the report?"
"Yeah, that rapist who was a foot shorter and maybe half his weight. There's such thing as reasonable force, Liv. The department's cracking down."
"I've seen guys who went a lot further who didn't get half the punishment he did."
"Yeah, but Wilkins has a history. It shows a pattern, and if there's one thing Tucker is good at, it's picking out the guys who are gonna get worse down the line."
"Tucker, a good judge of character," she snorted. "You know, I never thought you'd still be on the rat squad after all this time."
There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other with something just below a glare, and Olivia thought she felt something shift between them. Tucker was rumored to be especially hard on his own people, but in Cassidy's case, it seemed to have done him good. He stood straighter now, met her eyes more squarely, had lost the ever present hint of sullenness in his voice. When he spoke this time, it was not with anger, but with a surprising thoughtfulness.
"When I first joined, all I could think about was getting out. Hell, I've been investigated. I didn't want to be the one throwing other cops under the bus. But after I did it for a while, I changed my mind. Our job is important too, Liv. Everyone thinks they have good reasons for what they did wrong. But if you keep giving it a pass, it becomes the new normal. We can't let that happen. If you weren't so caught up in your own loyalties, you'd see it too. I'm sorry. If he's meant to be a detective, he'll take his punishment and work his way back up."
A hundred retorts came to her mind, but none that could quite cover the proper mix of annoyance and shame stirring in her chest. She turned her back instead, walking out of the room without a word.
Later on, when Wilkins came into her office to turn in his resignation papers, furious tears in his eyes, she accepted them silently.
2017
It was the heady days of autumn, the air crisp and only slightly cool, the leaves in the trees brilliant shades of red and gold. The weathermen had been in paroxysms of delight over the perfect weather, so Olivia took Noah to the park, determined to enjoy it while it lasted.
Noah had picked up the idea of skipping rocks from a boy at preschool, chattering at her about it the entire walk over, so they found their way to a pond almost immediately. Her own childhood had never involved much in the way of skipping rocks, so they were nearly equally matched in lack of skill. They tossed pebbles into the pond with cheery abandon as ducks paddled frantically back and forth, unsure if the splashes were food or a threat.
"I don't think we can do it," she laughed finally, starting to set her final rock down.
"Can I try?" The voice from behind her was unmistakable, and she turned, still grinning. Cassidy stood on the walkway, his hair short and a little more grayed, his hands resting casually in his jeans pockets.
"By all means." She tossed him a flattish rock and he caught it one-handed before sending it skimming out over the water with a practiced flick of his wrist. It bounced across the pond six times before sinking beneath the surface. Noah's jaw dropped, and he stared at Cassidy with an awe that approached worship.
Cassidy chuckled, crouching down beside him. "There's a trick to it. You've gotta move your hand the right way. See? Like this."
The next rock managed a single wobbling bump along the surface, and Noah turned to her, glee written all over his features. "Did you see?"
"I did. Great job." She ruffled his hair gently, then turned to Cassidy, who was dusting off his hands. "Thank you. Really."
He grinned his boyish grin, framed by the gold of the trees. For a moment it was like no time had passed since they'd met, like she was staring at him from across the old squad room, dust motes dancing in the sunlight between them. It was like looking down at a crossroads that she'd passed long ago, seeing a different path unfurl into the distance. Maybe if they'd both made different choices in that crucial time nearly twenty years ago, they could have worked things out. Maybe they would have grown together, shaped one another, become different people that could have belonged together. Maybe a different boy would be standing between them now, older than Noah perhaps, but with the same brown hair and bright smile. Or maybe not.
The moment passed, and he raised his hand in farewell, heading back up to the path. She watched him go until Noah tugged on her sleeve asking if they could have a pet duck. -(I don't think we have room for a duck, honey.)- When she looked back up, he was out of sight.
They walked back home slowly, Olivia filled with such bittersweet nostalgia that she ached. When you gave some of your heart to someone, maybe a tiny part stayed with them forever, no matter your differences, no matter how solid and logical your reasons for breaking up. But looking at him now was more and more like seeing a stranger from another life. She had finally found something to anchor herself besides her job, but he had not, and their paths could only lead them further apart. Perhaps it had always been this way.
2018
Shots rang out in the station house just past noon. Olivia had been halfway out the front door, determined to eat her lunch away from her desk for once. She whirled around and raced towards the sound, drawing the gun at her hip.
Police stations were one of the relatively few places on the planet where as many people would run towards gunshots than away, so by the time she arrived the action was mostly over. Four uniformed officers stood with their guns drawn over a man screaming furiously on the ground, while another set clustered around Ed Tucker, who had apparently taken the brunt of the gunfire. Her eyes swept the room and fell on Cassidy, standing over his desk in the corner. He was wearing an abstracted frown, one hand braced on the desk as though in the midst of an intense conversation. The other hand was over his chest, clutching a spreading red stain.
She watched him fall in slow motion, his hands slipping and his legs giving way. She sprinted towards him before she knew what she was doing, pushing another detective roughly out of her path.
"Brian," she breathed, kneeling over him. "Hold on. You're going to be okay.
He blinked at her fuzzily. "How come you're always here when I get shot?"
"Guess I'm your good luck charm," she said tightly, pressing her hands over the wound in his chest. "You survived last time, didn't you? You're going to be fine this time too."
He winced, then shook his head. "Don't think so." He tried to grin, breathing in with a wet sound that filled Olivia with terror. "Live fast and die young, right?"
She managed a laugh. "You're not even young, Brian. That means you have to live."
He put a hand over hers, too cold against the warm blood. "I'm glad you're here," he whispered. "No one wants to go out alone."
She was about to reassure him again but his body shook beneath her, his breath rattling in his throat. Then he was gone. She stared at him, unmoving, until other officers pulled her away. People were trying to talk to her, their lips moving meaninglessly, their faces set in looks of concern. She ignored them, working her way out of the crowd before heading out of the squad room and up the stairs.
She went back to her office without even washing the blood from her hands, closing the door and lowering the blinds behind her. Alone in the darkness, she sat at her desk and cried over Brian Cassidy one last time.
