Alex hasn't been back two days when Cragen calls her. She's not even sure how he knows that she is in New York.
" I need you to find Olivia."
"Hi to you too Don."
"Sorry. There's been a shooting. Elliot had to take down a teenager. He's done. We don't know where Olivia is. I need you to find her."
"For what? What do you mean Elliot's done? Don, what the hell?"
"Just go get her. Keep her safe. I would do it myself, but I've got about twenty IAB rats running around and the Chief of D's just got here and he is not going to let me out of sight anytime soon. Thanks Alex."
She wants to stay home. She missed her apartment while she was in Washington. She planned on sitting on her couch listening to New York outside the window, drink a glass of wine, go to bed early to be back in her office by seven.
"Fucking SVU," she mumbles to herself, grabbing her coat off sofa. "Fucking Olivia."
She wants to say she hates this, tromping all over the city looking for a lost detective, but the truth is she loves it, loves her tired feet, the old taxi cabs, the way New York slides all over her like a lover, a coat. She finds her eventually, slung over the bar, slamming down a shot of tequila. And oh, she looks good. She has never looked better than with someone else's blood in her hair, shaking hands, tired face. Olivia looks so perfect in the fall. Alex is surprised at her forgetting that, the way Olivia grows at the end of summer like blackberry, bearing fruit amongst her thorns as an offering for all the scratches on your ankles. She's not sure how she's going to approach this. She doesn't do things like this. But there's an empty seat right next to her and it is the obvious move. Olivia looks at her but doesn't say anything, just motions for another shot. While she is downing it, Alex looks her over. Blood that isn't hers is in a few places, under her fingernails, in her hair, on her sweater, but she doesn't look the worse for wear. No bullet holes, no concussion. This is okay, this isn't life or death. All the dying is over for today. She can do this.
Olivia is staring at her. She looks drunk. Olivia never gets drunk.
"Cragen said Elliot is-"
"He's gone Alex."
"How do you know? Did he tell you?"
"He didn't say anything."
"He didn't say goodbye?"
"No."
She knows better than to question this. She wonders what he is doing now, where he is. She wonders if Olivia thinks she has no one left.
…..
"Listen, Olivia," They have been at the bar for an hour now. They haven't talked. "Why don't you come home with me, I don't think you should be alone."
Olivia doesn't answer her, the fight Alex expected never arises, and soon they are in a taxi, in Alex's apartment, and Alex doesn't know how to handle this. Olivia is standing in her doorway with glazed over eyes and she looks so, so good and it is all so, so bad.
"I'm sorry," this is the first sentence the woman has uttered in over an hour and Alex can only look at her. "I shouldn't, you shouldn't have to. I can go. You just got back, you probably didn't even want to see me,"
Olivia's eyes are working across the room, her hands are scraping one another, scratching and pulling at cuticles. Alex has seen this before, when things got tough, the way Olivia would dig a nail into her skin, push down, the occasional pen pressed into the flesh of her thumb, it always made her hands ache to push the weapon away, grab Olivia's hands. This is her house now so she can do this, she can. She is holding Olivia's hands and they are so, so soft. Olivia is shaking from head to toe and this is killing her, it is too much.
"You've still got blood,"
"Sister Peg, she uh, she…"
"I know. Come on, you need to get this off of you"
Olivia stands in the middle of her bathroom. Alex swallows hard. This is proving more difficult every minute. The woman is exhausted. Drunk. Her mind, the rational part of her, tells her to leave, to let Olivia stand all alone in the bathroom, sob in the shower, and stumble out more pulled together than when she left, a better closet to hide the day in. But her heart, that demon that always pumped a little faster whenever she was in the room has her unbuttoning Olivia's blouse and whispering "it's okay," as tears fill brown eyes. Her only thought as she steps into the shower behind Olivia and fills her hands with soap is that she is going to get to share a bed with Olivia tonight, and it is all wrong but it might be all she ever wanted.