Hellooo peeps!

Business first: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING YOU MAY RECOGNIZE! (this applies to all chapters)

I've never written an SVU fic before, but I had this idea and it just wouldn't leave me. I wrote it down and this is what happened. I'm still kinda sad about how that storyline played out on the show so here's what my returning-characters-loving-self cooked up.

I won't tell you who's returning, at least not until the next chapter, but you'll probably figure it out if you're not new to SVU.

Enjoy!:)

A young man is sitting in a window seat on a plane flying from Phoenix to New York. Excitement is slowly building in his chest and he can't wait to land and start exploring. He hasn't seen the city in about six years and can't really remember it, but the urge to visit hasn't left him since the day he graduated high school.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as we start out descent, please make sure your seatbacks and tray tables are in their full upright position…Thank you."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he looks back on the past year. His decision to work for a year before going to college really paid off. It gave him the chance have a less stressful and pressure-filled senior year of high school and to focus on his school work without having applying to college on the back of his mind at all times. He saw what the stress of getting into the "right" college did to some of his friends and he wouldn't have traded places with any of them.

More importantly, his year "off" gave him the time to focus his free time (because he actually had some, unlike during his senior year) solely on getting college applications ready. The fact that he didn't have any of that to worry about last year actually resulted in him getting better grades than ever. Colleges like that so, as mentioned before, working for a year while applying paid off. In every sense of the word. He made some money…and got accepted to all the colleges he applied to. NYU, Columbia and Princeton. He took a chance by only applying to those and he doesn't regret it. Now he needs to choose. NYU or Columbia? Princeton is out of the question, because it isn't in New York.

He can't explain it and doesn't quite know what to call it, but he feels this…pull? Towards New York. Always has. Now that he is getting ready to leave home and go to college it is getting stronger and stronger. He hasn't lived there in years and doesn't have a lot of memories from his childhood, so why this urge to return? He knows there must be a good reason, but he can't put his finger on it quite yet. He's missing something.

These last few years, getting through high school and then working for a year, were such a whirlwind of emotions. He needs to start over and New York feels like the best place to do that. The question remains: why?

He is not sure which one of the other two schools to choose. Most people would immediately go for Columbia…but he isn't most people, is he? That's why he is on a plane right now. He needs to visit both and then he'll choose. But for now, this plane needs to land, because his butt is getting all tingly and he won't be able to feel it anymore if he doesn't get up soon.

"This is it." His only thought as he walks onto the campus of Columbia is "This is it." This is where he'll be studying in a couple of months. Again, he can't quite explain why, but it just feels right. He just likes the vibe, for lack of a better word.

Walking around the campus of Columbia for a couple of hours only confirms what he already knew. This is the place for him. It feels right to be back in the city, he just wishes he had more memories of the time he lived here. He wasn't that young when they left, but for some reason he can hardly remember anything. Is his mother even still here?

He finds himself sitting on a bench in Central Park a few hours later, enjoying the sun. Spring finally arrived and the park is full of colors again. He's eating a pretzel and watching everyone around him. It's Sunday and there are people everywhere either jogging, walking their dogs, playing with their kids or just sitting around, enjoying the day, just like he is.

August has come and he can finally say that he lives in New York City again. It feels amazing. He just moved into the dorms and is staring down at all the boxes he needs to unpack. There are far too many for his liking and his grandmother insisted on giving him one more. Granted, it doesn't take nearly as much space and isn't nearly as heavy as all the others, but didn't he already have enough stuff? And what was with the cryptic message that came with it?

"You'll know when to open this." What the hell is that supposed to mean? He shakes his head and decides to leave it for now. It's a beautiful day so going to the park feels like a much better option.

He finds a spot under a tree and opens the book he's been reading. Searching for memory. Because that is essentially what he's been doing since deciding to attend college in Manhattan. As if finding lost memories could be as easy as reading a book about it.

All of a sudden, two police officers run past him, chasing some guy. Seeing these cops triggers something in him and he suddenly closes his eyes and leans back against the tree as he is flooded with memories of his past. Really, it feels more like a tsunami and all he wants is to close the friggin' book, run to his dorm and open that box.

You'll know when to open this. Now it makes sense.

A few minutes later, the flood of memories slows down enough for him to get up and make his way out of the park. Good thing he brought his bicycle or getting back to his dorm would take way too long.

The ride back feels like it is taking hours, even though it probably only takes him ten minutes, but that's enough to overwhelm him, it's enough for him to see her face every time he blinks and to start reliving the second to last time he ever saw her.

That particular memory almost makes him hit the car in front of him. It also explains his apparent "memory loss". Traumatic events can lead to that. If nothing else, that's what he learned from the 400-page book. No matter what anybody says, that event was traumatic. He now remembers it better than ever. The pressure on his chest from the emotion is getting unbearable and he wishes his dorm was closer.

Never in his life has he walked up a flight of stairs so quickly. Out of breath, he yanks the door open as soon as he reaches his dorm and his roommate looks up startled.

"Dude, what the hell?! The last thing I need is a broken door on the first day."

The roommate leaves the room right after so he ignores him and looks for the box he tossed onto his bed earlier. The same bed that currently hosts about half of his stuff. Finally, he finds it. It's really light and probably doesn't have much in it, but he needs to know if it's what he thinks it is.

He sits down on the floor, leaning against his bed and simply stares at the box for a little while, too overwhelmed to open it. So many emotions run through him and he isn't sure what to do.

He finally finds the courage to lift the lid. There it is. A single photo. It's of the two of them, but all he can see is her look. The same one that had the unique ability to calm him all those years ago.

It's her.

The reason he's always felt this need to come back to New York.

Now he remembers.

It's Olivia.

And voilà! Have you figured out who it is?

I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know in the reviews!

Chapter 2 coming soon.

Have a good day/night!

O.