A/N: Quick SoccerCop one-shot, angsty and full of feels, but not the way we're used to. Hope you enjoy!

Just Call Me Your Rock

It had been two weeks since Alison had seen Beth. Two whole weeks of only phone calls, stating that the police officer wasn't feeling well, that she'd see her when she wasn't contagious.

Alison wasn't buying it.

She knew how people sounded when they were sick; she was a mother, after all, and Beth didn't sound sick. But something was off. She sounded distant, distracted, so Alison did the only logical thing she could think of—she went to Beth's apartment to get answers. Yes, it was risky, but she was fairly certain that Paul would be gone; he seldom stayed at the apartment anymore, if ever.

She straightened up and knocked firmly on the door. After a few minutes of waiting, a groggy voice sounded.

"Yeah?

It was definitely Beth, but she sounded strange—like her mouth was full of cotton.

"Beth, it's Alison. Open the door, please."

And then the door flew open and Alison was being yanked inside. Alison crinkled her nose at the smell of stale beer and old fast food. She looked up to meet Beth's eyes, only to be greeted by her back.

"Alison, what the hell are you doing here?" There was that strange voice again; almost as though Beth had been in the middle of eating dinner when she answered the door, and had yet to swallow.

"I don't appreciate being lied to, Beth. You aren't sick, but there's something wrong. Tell me what it is." Alison heard a wry chuckle, and then Beth turned around. What Alison was faced with shocked her enough to the point of taking a step back, and covering her mouth in surprise.

"Judas Priest, what happened to your face!"

Beth chuckled darkly and then winced, her hand flying up to cup her cheek.

"That's pretty fucked up, considering we look exactly the same."

Alison's hands settled authoritatively on her hips, her tone reprimanding.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

And Beth did. She knew she must look like hell; one of her eyes was swollen shut, her other eye blackened from a right hook that she should've seen coming. Her lower lip was split open, and she was pretty sure she had lost a molar somewhere along the way, resulting in a puffed out cheek. She had wanted to avoid Alison for as long as humanly possible to put off the encounter that she as sure to be more painful than the beating she had received.

"Well. I was out for a run. I tripped, and hit my face on the sidewalk."

Alison rushed forward, fury blazing in her eyes.

"This, whatever it is you're doing, isn't cute. Tell me the truth; who did this to you?"

There was no way in hell that Alison would leave without hearing every detail, so Beth had no choice but to relent. "I did, okay? I did this to myself."

Some of the anger melted from Alison's face, replaced by confusion.

"Beth, I don't understand, what do you—"

"There's a place I go to—to blow off some steam. I've only been a few times, but they hit pretty hard, so—"

"A fight club, Beth!? You've been going to a fight club?"

Hearing those words leave Alison's mouth was too much, and Beth couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I mean, we aren't supposed to talk about it. It's a rule."

Alison was not amused.

"Remember what I said about not being cute?" Beth sighed in frustration.

"Listen, Ali, it isn't that serious." Alison reeled on her, and now Beth was the one taking a step back.

"Don't you dare do that; don't call me 'Ali' to try and placate me."

So there was going to be no reasoning with her. Alison had that look in her eyes, the one that said she was serious, and not going to be swayed by the silly banter that had become a regular occurrence between the two women.

"I just want to feel something, Alison. Something real."

Behind Alison's eyes, something shattered. "Well, okay then. I'll leave you to it."

She turned to leave, but Beth grabbed her shoulder softly, stopping her in her tracks.

"That's not what I meant, I'm sorry—"

Alison's voice broke, and she breathed deeply, trying to get emotions under control. "I thought I made you feel something, or were you lying about that as well? Actually, no, I know I made you feel things. I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching, and everyone else has seen it, too."

Beth clenched her jaw and looked away, but Alison placed a finger under her chin and brought them together so that they were eye to eye.

"I've felt your heart speed up when I pull you in close, and I definitely know I've made you feel something, when you're so wet that—"

"Okay! Yes, you, Alison Hendrix make me feel—too much, sometimes. But the stress of everything else—work, Paul, Maggie Chen, the entire clone scenario—sometimes it gets to me, and I need an outlet. Outside of what we have."

Alison's voice was soft, and Beth had to strain to hear it. "And what do we have, Beth?"

They snuck around like lovesick teenagers, they sent each other sickly sweet text messages, always informing one another when they were on their mind. They had soft moans between the sheets, and intimate words whispered against heated skin—but what were they?

"No, that's not what this is about. We'll talk about us another time. Right now, we need to focus on you. Sit down on the couch and we'll get you cleaned up."

There was no negotiating once the mom tone was out, so Beth did as she was told while Alison went looking for a first aid kit. While Alison was gone, Beth had some time to think—as if she hadn't been doing enough of that lately. She was falling apart at the seams, she knew that. But while she felt herself unraveling, she could also feel herself being patched back together—literally and figuratively—by the unwavering loyalty of the brunette now sitting beside her.

"You scare me like this. Seeing you hurt, it's too much. I already worry every time you go to work, thinking that it could possibly be the last time I'll see you. So this, whatever you're going through, has to be fixed. You can't let it get to you, or you'll collapse under the strain."

Beth reached up and wiped away the tears that had begun to fall down Alison's face.

"I'm sorry, Ali. I know I'm a mess."

Alison cupped Beth's hand against her cheek, caressing the back softly with her thumb.

"Yes, you are a mess—but you're my mess, and I'm not going anywhere."

The two women came together in a tight embrace, their bodies fitting together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. It was going to be a long road, and there were bound to be more tears, but they'd face it the way they were meant to face it—together.