Chapter 2

Evidently a permanent state of deadness comes easier for some people than it did for me. The realization that I was in fact alive hit me when bright florescent lights blinded me, almost making me wish I hadn't opened my eyes even the little bit that I had, and when my ears took in the beep-swish-whirring sounds of machines around me, I knew I must be in a hospital, my attempt having failed and all my senses miraculously still functioning without complication. I should have been grateful for this, I guess. But in the moment, I really wasn't.

I saw my Mom in my peripheral vision, and I had a vague sense that she'd been crying.

No shit, asshole. You just tried to off yourself, why wouldn't she be crying?!

The rational part of my brain spoke to me in times I most needed but least wanted to hear it, and I wish I could quell the loudness of it, rattling inside my head, making me feel worse than I already did after waking from my state of almost death.

"Baby, are you okay?! What did you do? What were you thinking?! Was it because of me?"

So many questions being fired at me, and not enough strength in my still half dead body to be able to process them correctly. Her cheeks were tear stained, wisps of her long blonde hair stuck to her forehead in some places where she hadn't brushed it back or fixed it after all the commotion and crying. The look in her eyes, although hazy and blurry when observed through my own, was undoubtedly a pained one. I had caused that pain, but the pain that had caused the swiftness of those actions in my room, with that note laid out on the desk, was in part due to her. She'd even asked.

Was it because of me?

The fourth and final of her rapid fire questions hung in the air between us like ringlets caused by the exhalation of cigarette smoke that lazily floated along the breeze, until their dissipation into nothing. That was what I so wished the question itself would do-dissipate. So that I, in my state of groggy-headed emptiness, wouldn't have to answer it. I couldn't look her in the face and say that yes, she had been one of the many yet also major reasons why I had decided to leave the world. I couldn't do that now, not here. Maybe not ever. So I lied. I became as fake in that moment as those oh-so-fake preening bitches in the bathroom at school. I pasted a kinda-sorta attempt at a weak assed smile on my face, and I let the lie come from my lips with an amount of apathy that frightened me.

"No Mom, it wasn't you. I swear. Can we talk about this later? I feel really sick, and these lights are making my head hurt."

As if ignoring my request, she kept talking. God, I wished just this once that she'd listen.

"I'd imagine sick would be putting it mildly. You're lucky to be alive right now. They almost couldn't save you."

And I wish they hadn't.

"Liv is here too. I called her for moral support when I found you.. the way I found you."

The thought of Olivia made being alive seem a little more bearable. There was something about her that I always liked, even if I couldn't pinpoint it and I'd only seen her a handful of times.

"I saw the note, Raye. I know what you were playing at."

Mom hadn't been able to bring herself to say the actual word; suicide, and I was glad of it. As if calling it something else, or not mentioning it at all made it seem less ugly.

"Olivia wants to see you, before she goes home."

Finally something to make you stop talking. I thought, and then felt the pull of my guilty conscience for thinking it.

I nodded my head as faintly as I could while still making the gesture noticeable to my mother. I just wanted the pounding to stop, and bobbing my head vigorously up and down was not the way to go about achieving that desire, so I nodded wordlessly, only a little, and watched the familiarity of her gait striding away from me, out of my room, as she'd done so many times before.

Mere seconds passed before I saw the brunette smile weakly, making her way to my bedside. As she got closer, my vision less obscured now having become accustomed to the brightness of the lights, I saw that she looked as if she'd been crying too.

Now you should really feel like a sack of shit. You like Olivia, and you've even upset her.

I wished so desperately again that the rational part of my brain would shut the fuck up and leave me with any shred of inner peace, before hearing her speak.

"Hey kiddo, I'm happy you're okay."

God, I love her. No goddamn questions. Sympathy, understanding and compassion. Why can't you be my mother, Olivia Benson?

"Thanks. I'm not."

Another thing I both loved and hated about Olivia, was that I couldn't lie to her. Unlike Mom, with her I wouldn't even attempt it. It was something in her eyes. They made you want to bore your soul, the truth of it, no matter how ugly it was at its core.

Upon hearing what I'd just said, she became stern, but not flip out angry, like Mom would have done. I appreciated that.

"Don't ever say that. I imagine you had a lot going on at the time of your.. decision...but people love you here too."

Her mind seemed to wander for a minute, eyes getting that far away starry look that cartoon characters get when they're in love or hit with something heavy that makes them dizzy. When I knew I had her full attention, I spoke again.

"It doesn't feel like it."

"I haven't told you this, but I do. And I'm here if you ever need to talk. Anytime."

She handed me a card with her number on it, even though Mom undoubtedly already had it. It made me feel warm, for the first time in a long time that she'd given me a card with her number, all my own, and hearing I love you from somebody who undoubtedly meant it had more significance to me than I ever could have told her.

"Thanks," I said lamely. Jesus. I was saying that a lot lately.

"No problem. I'll send your Mom back in. I gotta get home to Elliot. He's probably wondering where in hell I am and what happened."

So I watched her walk away and go home to her boyfriend, who I thought was super fucking gorgeous but would never say so. This time though, I felt like the person walking away from me, actually gave enough of a damn to come back if and when I needed her.

As she finally walked in the door of the apartment we shared together, I let out a slow breath of relief. I hadn't heard her pull up, but she wasn't hysterical upon arrival, which I took as a good sign. Probably meant that Raye was at least alive, even if in a possible vegetative state, though I tried not to assume the worst. It was difficult not to, in our job.

"Hi baby. Sorry I'm so late and didn't call you from the hospital a while ago. I should've."

Feeling her lips connect with mine, turned me to mush and all was forgiven. It was impossible for me to stay angry at this woman. People at the one six often thought I could be kind of a dick, and before I met her, before our relationship blossomed as it had done, I guess I was. It sounds so cliche to say 'she changed me,' but she did.

"It's okay. I know you had a lot going on, trying to comfort Alex and all. How's Raye? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, awake. Feeling like shit, but awake. I talked to her a few minutes before I left. She may be alive, but her spirit isn't, El. It's so sad. I don't know what's going on, but she looked at me like she needed me. I gave her my number, in case she actually does."

"That sounds like something you would do. You have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known in my life."

It was true. Despite everything she's been through, this woman continuously radiated copious amounts of love, and it was beyond my realm of comprehension exactly how she managed it.

"I just stand for what's right."

As I made love to her that night, I was ever so aware of just how incredibly lost and dead I would be if she decided to do something so swift and stupid as Raye had done, or if God forbid, a child we created together decided to do it, and succeeded. On the other side of that same thought, was the realization that she never would. I knew she stood for what was right, and I knew she was strong, I just hoped she had enough strength not to let 'standing for what's right' get her in over her head.

She looked at me like she needed me...

Everybody needs you, Olivia..everybody needs you.