The aftermath of Season 3's episode 'Guilt'

Olivia's heart sank as she entered their apartment. It was only 5.30pm, but all the lights were out. She would have assumed that Alex wasn't yet home, but her eyes lit upon Alex's briefcase in the hallway. She then spotted Alex's jacket flung haphazardly over the back of the couch, and exhaled sadly. Quietly, she opened the door to their bedroom. The sight of Alex's skirt on the floor confirmed her convictions, even before she saw the miserable, huddled figure in the bed. Alex had one of her migraines.

Olivia sat on the side of the bed, and let her hand rest on Alex's shaking back. "How bad?" she whispered.

"Bad," Alex's voice was weak and laced with pain.

Olivia spotted the basin by the bed; it was still damp, as though it had been recently cleaned. "You've been throwing up?" it was more of a statement than a question.

Alex grunted.

Olivia stroked her forehead lovingly. "Okay," she whispered. She hated it when Alex was sick, and these migraines had been coming too often recently. She was going to have to talk to Alex about reducing her workload; the stress of the last few months had been overwhelming, and her body was telling her it was time to ease up.

Right now, Olivia knew that there was very little she could do. She saw the pill bottle on the nightstand, but if Alex had been throwing up, there was a very good chance she hadn't kept down any of her medication. She would keep a close eye for the next couple of hours, but she knew in her heart that she was going to have to persuade Alex to take one of the suppositories that she hated so much.

Olivia sighed as she picked up Alex's discarded clothing from the floor; her skirt, her pantyhose. She saw that her lover had crawled into bed in her blouse. When she next moved – likely to throw up, Olivia realized with a grimace – she would peel off the sweaty garment, and Alex's bra, and ease her into a nightshirt. She would find her soft NYPD t-shirt that Alex loved so much, and took so much comfort in.

"Liv?" Alex's voice was shaky and thin.

Olivia turned to look at her. "Yes, baby?" she answered, very quietly.

"Hold me?"

Olivia shucked off her jeans, and slid into the bed next to Alex, doing her best not to jar her. Very carefully, she pulled Alex into her lap. She placed a soft hand on Alex's forehead. "Try and sleep," she whispered.

"He died," Alex was barely audible.

"Who died?"

"Sam Cavanaugh."

Olivia's heart plummeted. This was the one case that had almost destroyed Alex. Alex blamed herself for the boy's suicide attempt, which had left him little more than a vegetable. For the past six months, Alex had been a regular visitor to the hospital, most often after midnight when Sam's mother had gone home for the night. Olivia always knew when she had been,

"Oh honey," Olivia couldn't think how to help. "I'm so sorry."

Alex reached out and grasped Olivia's hand. "Don't leave me," she pleaded.

"Never," Olivia promised. "Never."

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Alex had never felt pain like it. Even inhaling sent shards of pain up her spine. Every heartbeat pounded in her skull, causing waves of nausea that she struggled to control. She knew that vomiting would be agonizing. She tried to breathe carefully, to keep her rioting stomach under control. Even in her agony, she was dimly aware of Olivia's soft hand on her forehead, and the other gentling her back. She didn't deserve Olivia's love, but she knew that, right now, without her there, everything would just crumble.

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Olivia held her convulsing lover as she retched agonizingly into the basin for the fourth time in an hour. Alex's face was a ghastly grey, and the sweat poured off her as her body betrayed her.

When Alex's body finally calmed, Olivia lay her down gently on the softest of all their pillows. She placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "Be right back," she whispered quietly, trying not to react to Alex's moan of misery.

Five minutes later, Olivia was back at her side. She tenderly brushed Alex's hair from her forehead. "The doctor will be here within the hour, to give you a shot," she told her quietly. "But we're gonna have to ..." she didn't finish her sentence. Alex was so completely out of it that, Olivia prayed, she might not realize what was about to happen. Efficiently, Olivia donned the latex glove. She pulled down the quilt. Before Alex realized what was going on, Olivia had tugged down her panties and inserted two suppositories.

Olivia pulled Alex's panties back up, and tucked the quilt under her chin. Alex blinked, wondering if she had imagined what had just happened. She felt like her skull was splitting.

Olivia sprinted to unlock the door so that the doctor could let herself in, and was back at Alex's side in seconds. She saw her tears of pain, and knew that she had done the right thing. She prayed that the doctor would arrive soon. Only once before had Alex had such a severe migraine, and it had taken two morphine injections before the pain even began to let up.

"No hospital," Alex whimpered, as Olivia slid in beside her.

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"This is the worst I've seen her," the doctor spoke quietly to Olivia as they stood in the living room, close to the bedroom door.

Olivia nodded. "She's had a horrific day."

"I'll be back at 6am, to give her another shot. She should really be in hospital," the doctor said. "I know," she put a hand on Olivia's arm. "She doesn't want to go, and quite honestly the trauma of being taken in isn't going to help her. We'll give it 24 hours. I'll come back every four hours, or one of my colleagues will, to give her a shot."

"I don't care what it costs," Olivia tried not to cry.

"She's very lucky to have you."

In her life, Olivia had seen more trauma than anyone should ever have to see. She had given her heart and soul to victims who had suffered horribly. But this was the worst. For her, seeing Alex in such agony, and not being able to help, tore at her soul.

After 37 hours of unrelenting misery, Alex finally fell into a fitful sleep. Even though she was exhausted, Olivia tried to stay awake to watch over her, but soon she too drifted off, wrapped around Alex's traumatized body.

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Alex sipped cautiously at the camomile tea that Olivia had brought her. She had spent most of the previous 24 hours asleep. She still felt awful, but it wasn't the crushing, terrifying pain of before. Now it was like a hangover combined with unbelievable exhaustion.

"You should be at work," Alex's voice was hoarse.

Olivia shook her head. "I should be here," she said. "Alex...,"

"I know," Alex was tearful. "We need to talk."

"You need help," Olivia tried to stay calm.

"I don't think I can. C'mon Liv, you know me. I don't talk to counselors."

"You're going to have to," Olivia's voice was low, but firm.

"I can do this on my own."

"But you're not on your own. And I can't, Lex," Olivia gulped back tears. "I can't watch you do this to yourself. Not any more."

"I've always had migraines," Alex was stubborn.

"Not like that. You should have been in the hospital. I had to beg the doctor."

Alex blinked. She started to remember some of what had happened. Even through the blinding agony, she had always felt Olivia's hands on her, supporting her. Comforting her. Loving her.

"I had to watch you," Olivia continued. "And I couldn't help," tears were streaming down her face.

"You did help," Alex reached out for her hand, but Olivia jerked it away.

"No I didn't!" she was getting angry now. "All I could do was stay with you. I couldn't relieve your suffering. I don't think I can take much more of that," Olivia was frantic. "Watching you torture yourself. I'm sorry, Lex," she hurried out of the bedroom before she said anything she regretted.

Olivia collapsed on the couch, her head in her hands. She hadn't meant to castigate Alex in that way. She knew that the attorney was only trying to do what was best. And in the Sam Cavanaugh case, she had put herself on the line – professionally, as well as emotionally. Olivia knew that it wasn't Alex's fault he had taken the pills. It was Barnett's, his abuser. And Alex really was trying to cope with it. She had made such an effort recently to open up more to Olivia, to give her all to their relationship. And now Olivia had flung it all back in her face, blaming her for her sickness, even while she was still suffering. She heard a noise, and looked up.

Alex stood by the door, leaning heavily against the wooden frame. She was as white as milk, and even from the couch, Olivia could see she was trembling.

Olivia sprinted to her side and, supporting her heavily, led her to the couch. "Wait there," she commanded, returning in seconds with two warm blankets which she tucked around her lover. "Alex, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I should have ..."

Alex stopped her by putting her hand over Olivia's. "Don't apologize," she said, her voice still shaky and weak. "I haven't been fair to you. I thought it was just me that I was beating up. And I thought I deserved it. I do deserve it. But you don't. It's not fair of me to make myself sick, and then have you take care of me."

"You didn't make yourself sick deliberately," Olivia argued.

Alex gave a hollow chuckle. "Nobody would do that deliberately," she pinched the bridge of her nose as her still pounding head reminded her that she was not yet fully recovered. "And I know I can't stop myself getting migraines from time to time. But I can't keep putting you through it."

"You're not leaving me?" Olivia went white.

Alex smiled. "No. I'm not. I'm in this for the long haul. But you deserve for me to be the best I can. So I'll do it Liv. I'll see the counselor. If I can find a good one."

"We could try George Huang?"

Alex was grateful that Olivia said 'we'. "No," she shook her head. "I know him too well. And I'd rather keep this out of the department."

Olivia nodded, understandingly. She took both of Alex's hands. "We'll find someone you like. And I'll go with you, Lex. I love you so much, baby. I hate it when you're suffering."

"And I hate it that I'm making you unhappy."

"You could never make me unhappy," Olivia wiped away a tear that had fallen down Alex's cheek. "We'll fix this together, huh?"

"Together," Alex whispered.