Disclaimer: She's not mine. In my dreams, though, she is. They both are. Oh and this alludes to femslash so if it isn't your cup of tea then don't read.
Just a quick pull, and all this will be over. All I have to do is squeeze the trigger and all my pain will leave my body like a bullet leaving a gun barrel.
I've been thinking about it a lot lately. Without her to fill the little time away from work I have, I've been given space to reflect. This is how I deal, how I handle situations when it seems like there's no end in sight.
Many nights I lay awake thinking of her, wondering if she has made new friends. I'm the one that she always turned to when she needed a friend. I wonder if she leans on them like how she leaned on me. I hope she never finds someone else like that, for I want to be her one and only.
The plan is perfect, flawless, even. Nobody will suspect anything and nobody will raise an eyebrow. Being killed in the line of duty is a norm in our society today. All the fingers will point toward Cesar Velez, or whichever druglord you have managed to piss off, marking your demise as nothing but a hit ordered by the mob. I can even picture the headline on the front page now, "DEA agent gunned down, mob hit likely." I'm sure there will be a big fuss about how you were a decorated officer but I am not interested in that.
All I am interested in is your death. After all, you brought me mine. For two years I have lived a widow's life, a mere walking corpse functioning on autopilot. I knew, from the moment I met you, that you would be a harbinger and I was right. You took her away from me, even tried to stop her from meeting me and my partner one last time. So now, I am returning the favor.
Who would have thought that it would be the easiest thing I would have to do, putting the plan together and waiting for my time. Of course, pulling the trigger was as easy as spotting a textbook child molester for me. After all that I have seen on this job, my gag reflex still is intact when I try to picture the moment your chest gets blown open. Only the thought of her is keeping me going. I've been going to the firing range more often the past few months, working on my accuracy.
One pull, that's all it takes to end the pain. I silently chastised myself for not thinking of this sooner. I knew you had everything planned out when the case was brought to your attention. Hell I'm sure she's not the first person that you had to deal with under such circumstances.
The logical, professional part of me knows that you did the right thing, but the grieving part of me is angry that you had let your emotions get in the way. You did not tell her about her options until it was too late. I know you did it on purpose, trying to cause what little ruckus you could for what had happened to your partner.
When this is over, perhaps I will be able to sleep again. It's been a long time since I had a good night's sleep. For some reason I sleep better whenever she's near. Maybe it's her, maybe it's not. One thing I know for sure, tonight is where all my pain will end.
I can hear your voice, screaming out in pain. What you feel right now is nothing compared to what I had to live with for the past two years. This is how I deal with my pain. I let go of the pain like how I purge this city of pedophiles and rapists. I hunt them down and get rid of them.
Gandhi once said that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Well I know that the statement isn't true, for I already was blinded by pain and loss the moment you decided to take her away from me.
Blissful peace, that's all I can think of right now. Surprisingly the pain has left, and now in its place a certain calmness I have never known before. You're lucky you died right away. It was a tough choice, choosing between causing you maximum pain and blood loss, and a quick and easy death. I opted for the latter, for I could not bear another day to know you were running around in the city while she's at a God forsaken place for an eternity.
This is the most I can do for her, all I need to do. Just a quick pull, and I can move on with my life. After all that's said and done, a part of the pain still remains, just like a bullet, leaving its shell when it's fired. The emptiness that surrounds me solidified my half-life, for the day Alex Cabot died, Olivia Benson died too.