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A/N Very short
Ice
She watches them, the two new detectives. She can't remember their names and in some part of her mind she knows she should, but she can't bring herself to care.
She doesn't cry, she almost can't, parts of her soul feel frozen and she has turned that coldness into a mask of indifference. She knows her younger counterparts wonder at her demeanor, that they want to get to know her, want to learn something from her, but she cannot teach them. Her mother told her once that teaching comes from the heart. Olivia now finds it sad that a drunken, abusive woman had more heart to spare for her students than she does for her rookies right now, but at the same time she able to feel little guilt. Her capacity for that seems to have disappeared too.
She deals with the victims, the perps, the other cops in the myriad of ways she needs to do her job, but there is a difference now. She feels detached. While some may say that she is learning to draw the line, beginning to maintain healthy boundaries, she knows that's not the case.
The warmth is gone, gone from her tongue, because she can no longer say "I'm Benson and this is my partner Detective Stabler." Gone from her eyes because she no longer gets to see him smile at something she's said, gone from her heart because he is no longer beside her.
And all that remains of who she is is a block of ice.
