TITLE: Lifetime: Pt. I - Realizations

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to JB for the beta. This is a companion piece/sequel to "Awakenings" which was originally posted in 2005. This sequel has been a long time coming.

DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

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Lifetime: Pt. I – Realizations

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To thine own self be true. Isn't that how it goes? I'd been fooling myself for long enough, allowing myself to live within the world of denial I had created. I was good at it too. I had myself convinced I could be happy, that I was happy. I was with someone who wanted to be with me and was there for me everyday. Love the one you're with. Another saying. Jesus, make it stop. Enough with all these mundane cliches festering in my brain. I could've probably gone on for the rest of my life believing in the lie I told myself everyday, but I couldn't do it to her. I knew what I had to do, but knowing what you have to do doesn't make the action any easier.

Why couldn't I have met her years earlier? Maybe things would've turned out differently. After the crap of a relationship I had had with the narc cop gone junkie, I could've used a girl like her in my life. Fresh, young, idealistic. Everything I was not. I had the opportunity too, when Serena had tried to set us up on a blind date. I had no idea who she was or what she could've meant for me in my life at the time. And to think that years later, we did end up meeting and our work relationship turned into something more. One could argue that it was fate -- that it was meant to be. That despite the obstacles that stood in the way of the first attempt at a set up, we still ended up together. People call that kismet.

I watch the early winter breeze snake through the trees in the park. All the trees have lost their leaves, their naked branches exposed to the elements of mother nature. I too feel exposed and bare now that I've allowed myself to look deep within my heart. The past year or so, I had felt full and complete, much like the trees here in the summer. But in the last few months, just as the woods here became more porous everyday from the falling leaves, my soul began to feel less fulfilled with each passing day. It wasn't her fault. She didn't do anything wrong. It was just a repressed truth that had threatened to surface and I had grown tired of fighting it.

Casey Novak was good for me. She was smart, passionate, sometimes unconventional in her job, and most of all, she had a huge heart. I loved her. I loved being with her and knowing that she was with me because she wanted to be and wasn't afraid to be; that meant the world to me. We understood each other and the stresses of our work. It should've been a perfect pairing. And it was for awhile. I had learned to put the past behind me and began to live in the present. I had put the memory of Alex Cabot away in a tightly sealed corner of my mind. And when she came back to testify against Liam O'Connor, her disappearance afterwards only reinforced the knowledge that her memory was where it belonged.

But then that day, that windy day, she showed up across the street from my apartment building and told me she loved me. I had always hoped that day would come but never in my wildest dreams did I believe it would happen. But as much as it filled my heart to hear the words spill from her lips, those same words tore my heart in two. That day began the unlocking of the memory of her and how I felt for her. The memory that I had so long ignored. And day by day, it ate at me and wore me down. And I fought it. I fought it every day, every hour, every minute.

"Hi." The words break through my thoughts and I look up. The breeze blows through her hair and she brushes the golden red tresses back from her face. "Elliot told me you'd be here."

"Hi," I greet her in return, trying to muster a smile. She sits down on the wooden bench beside me and leans back against the back rest.

"I can see why you come here," Casey says, looking out at the bare trees. "It's beautiful. Peaceful."

I simply nod.

"Liv," she begins, looking down at her hands which are enveloped in her favorite pair of wool gloves. "I can feel that things have changed between us. I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out what it is or what I've done - "

"Casey, it's not you," I say and cringe inwardly at the lame cliché.

"I know," she says looking at me. "I know you care about me and I cherish the time we have spent together. I love you and I know you love me too. And as difficult as it's been for me to admit this, I know it's not enough for you."

"Casey, I..." I start to explain, trying to find a way to let her know that none of this was her doing.

"When I first met you, I knew I was attracted to you," she cuts me off. "I also knew that Alexandra Cabot left a huge shadow, professionally, and I guessed personally. Despite my efforts, I fell in love with you. And over time, I saw the way you looked at me changed from colleagues to something more, and I thought that maybe one day you'd overcome your loss and see that I could be for you what you wanted her to be. When you told me you loved me, I believed it, but deep down inside, I still felt like I was competing with a ghost, a memory. But now I know she's not a ghost. She's still alive, and you still love her. I know that there will always be a part of you, a part of your heart, your mind, your soul that belongs to her."

"You deserve to be with someone who can give all of themselves to you," I tell her.

"You're right," she says and wipes away a tear that had fallen from her moist eyes. "I do. And you deserve to be with someone to whom you can give all of you."

"I'm so sorry, Casey," I offer, holding back the tears, a skill I had practically perfected over the years. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I know," she accepts and reaches over to grasp my hand. "I know."

I pull her to me and I feel her shudder as a small muffled cry escapes her lips. We pull apart and instinctively I reach up to wipe her tear streaked cheeks. With a breath, our lips meet in a soft kiss, our last.

"Take care of yourself," she whispers.

I nod. "You too." She stands and slowly turns and I watch her walk away. As difficult as it was and would be as we'd continue to work together, we both knew that it was better this way.

If I have learned anything from my past relationships, it was that a difficult break up was better than hanging on out of desperation. I had been in Casey's shoes before. I had loved someone whose soul was possessed by something else. And I hung on desperately. Seven years off and on. I didn't want what Casey and I had to turn into what I had gone through. I guess Casey was stronger than I was and she knew she didn't want to be in this situation anymore.

It didn't make things any easier that we still had to work with each other practically on a daily basis. We tried our best to be professional and kept our emotions in check, but at times, our armor would crack and harsh words would slip out. Despite our break up, I still loved her and cared deeply for her. But I think that that was what would throw her over the edge at times. I couldn't say I blamed her. I'd be fucked up and confused too if I someone I loved acted like they cared for me but at the same time, know that they didn't love me enough to be with me.

I remember that night at the Kastner Center for Juvenile Offenders after Shane Mills was raped and Casey was manhandling the center's administrator. I wanted to prevent her from getting herself into any worse trouble than she had already caused for herself but instead, she threw back at me that she didn't need my help. "I'm a big girl," she had said and the words had stung. But like I said, I couldn't blame her. Here I was, caring for her on the heels of our break up. A break up caused by the fact that I couldn't love her the way she deserved to be loved. That thought alone made me want to slap myself.

Over time, I was careful in how I showed that I cared for her and the bitterness slowly faded. Every once in awhile we'd have heated debates and arguments but we accepted that it was just who we were, how we did our jobs, and not because of any feelings we may have had for one another.

A year and a half I spent wandering around aimlessly in my mind and finding no answers, at least none that were satisfactory to me. I decided that it was time to swallow my pride and bitterness and go to the one person who had understood me in the past. Even when I behaved angrily and down right bitchy towards her when we met again years after she had left my life, she had proven to be forever the professional and was not the bad guy I had made myself believe. It was a quiet evening so I told Elliot I had an errand to run but that I'd be back to cover until the night shift came in. I found myself knocking on her door, no longer bitter or angry, but rather resigned. She looked surprised when she opened the door, but graciously invited me to come in.

"I think I'm codependent," I say, flopping down onto the leather couch. I look around the home office. It was warm and cozy yet at the same time professional and detached. I finally meet the brown eyes sitting across from me, on the other side of the coffee table.

"Are you asking me to interpret that as a shrink or as your friend...or..." Rebecca's question trails off.

"Or as an ex-girlfriend?" I finish for her.

She gives a small smile. "Yeah."

"All of the above?"

She nods, folding her hands on her lap and sits back. "So why do you think you're codependent?"

"I'm cursed with striving for unattainable love," I start explaining, "I think my life has been one huge experiment on codependency by some higher power. Here, let's see how much crap a person can handle in one lifetime and see what her breaking point is. I'm thoroughly convinced that's why my life is the way it is." I pause, "Do you even realize how many sleepless nights I have spent reflecting on this? I've come to the conclusion that the most significant relationships in my life have all had one thing in common - unattainable love." My shoulders slump with the sigh I let out. She pulls out a yellow legal pad and begins to write on it. I look up with a half hearted smirk.

"What, you gonna start shrinking me now?"

She smiles, tilts her head to the side. Elliot gives me that look whenever I ask an obvious question.

"It's what you came here for, right?"

"Not exactly." I see her eyebrow raise as she continues writing. I cut right to the chase,

"Why did you leave me?" I ask, not waiting for her to finish writing. The question has been with me for eighteen years

The black Mont Blanc pen stops mid-word. She puts the pen down on the pad and looks over at me. "I didn't leave you, Olivia," Rebecca answers softly. "I left the Academy."

"You left the Academy and went to Medical School, I remember," I say. "I also remember that you never even talked to me about it. Just one day 'Oh yeah, by the way, I'm going to med school instead." I take a deep breath and exhale, letting go of feelings I had so closely guarded over all these years. "It felt like the trust fund kid was done with slumming it with the blue collar crowd."

"I'm sorry, Olivia, that was not what happened at all," Rebecca apologizes, leaning forward, her forearms resting on her knees. "It was one of the toughest decisions I ever had to make. I never wanted to leave you. But when you wouldn't return any of my calls, I didn't know what else to do."

"So, what did happen?"

She takes a deep breath. "I was scared. I was scared to become a cop because I was scared of dying. And I didn't tell you about medical school because what if I had failed the entrance exam? I was scared of you seeing me as a failure. You were always so strong and sure of what you wanted to be. I wasn't. And I was afraid you'd think I was weak."

I nod my understanding. I had been so angry with her for so long, feeling like I had meant nothing to her, that I was just an experiment - a social one and a sexual one.

"I'm sorry I was so harsh with you when we ran into each other over Miranda's case. I thought I had gotten past the hurt and anger, but when I saw you again, as a doctor, everything just resurfaced."

"I know. I knew you needed to exorcise the anger towards me - something you never got a chance to do," she says and then slowly I see a smile on her lips. "But I also knew that once you got it out of your system, we'd be okay again."

"How'd you figure that?" I ask, curious and annoyed by her lingering smile.

She sits back in her chair. "Because you were still wearing the watch I had given you."

My annoyance turns inward. I'm annoyed at myself for being so transparent. And as quickly as the emotions had risen to the surface, they began to recede. "Well, you always did have good taste." I give her a smile.

"So do you think our relationship was codependent?" she asks as a part of her slips back into psychiatrist mode.

"Well, let's see," I say, sitting back. "A working class kid from a Catholic college and a single parent home meets the offspring of an Irish Protestant real estate mogul. We were doomed even before we started. But no, I had to take it on as a challenge."

"So I was just a challenge to you?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. I know a trap when I see one.

"You were everything my world was not. You brought a sort of peace into my life," I say. "The fact that never in a million years would your parents approve of you bringing me home just made it more exciting."

"Forbidden love."

"Wanting what I couldn't have. Unattainable love," I reiterate. "And it didn't stop after you."

"Detective Heather Samuels," she resurrects the name I haven't heard in a long time. Apparently she heard about that train wreck of a relationship.

I nod. "I loved her. She loved getting high. I came out because of her, because she accused me of being afraid of being myself. So I came out and stood by my woman. And then she disappeared without a word. I thought that if I did whatever she wanted me to do and if I loved her enough, she'd quit the drugs and just be happy with me. I've lived with an addict most of my life. I should've known better, that trying to make an addict love you is about as fruitful as pissing into the wind."

"That's the thing with codependency, though isn't it?"

"Yeah, I know," I sigh. "It all boils back down to Mom."

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End Pt. I – Realizations

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