[I'm SO sorry, I never intended to leave it this long between chapters. Work is relentless!]
Irenka looked up and smiled; she felt oddly relieved. Her favorite customer, the quiet, thoughtful blonde had been inexplicably absent for the past three days. She never came in on weekends, but Mondays to Fridays, she was there without fail.
The blonde nodded at her and gave a small, shy smile. She looked tired, Irenka mused. Tired and … sad, she concluded.
Irenka brought tea and a cookie to Alex, who smiled her appreciation. "Is good to see you," Irenka said.
"I'm glad to be here," Alex told her.
"Sick?" Irenka enquired softly.
"I'm better now," Alex tried to smile.
Irenka withdrew. She could tell that the woman wanted quiet and solitude, and she would not intrude.
Alex looked out of the window and shivered. The snow was getting worse. It had been snowing relentlessly for nearly two days now, and she worried about Olivia's safety. Olivia's job was dangerous at the best of times, but it must surely become more hazardous in such treacherous conditions. Alex had, for once, traveled by subway, not wanting to risk bringing her car out on roads that were unpredictable at best. She shivered minutely, realizing that the snow had started to penetrate her thick coat, and she had only walked a few hundred yards.
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Olivia Benson looked up from her desk. "Wha'?" she said irritably, realizing that Elliott was still talking. She had zero clue about what.
"Go home, Liv," he said gently. "It's turning into a real blizzard."
"I'll catch a few hours in the crib," she said, irritably. She wouldn't sleep anyway, she knew that. Her sleep had been interrupted and sketchy since Alex had been shot, but the last couple of months had been even worse than usual. Knowing that Alex was back, back in the city, even back in her own apartment, was almost more than she could bear. What did that mean about what they had shared? And those letters that Alex had written to her from Witness Protection. Alex had risked everything to keep in contact with her. And those letters; they were so beautiful. Did this now mean everything she had said was a lie? Olivia shook her head, trying to dispel the memory of her injured lover easing herself into the SUV. She looked up, to see Elliott holding out her jacket.
"Now," he said, firmly. "You want a ride?"
"You're leaving?" Olivia was confused.
"I sure am. Kathy just called and threatened," he winced and grinned. "Well, you don't wanna know what she threatened. But I'm going."
"You are so whipped," Olivia tried to inject some levity.
"Yup," he grinned, happily.
"I'll get the subway," Olivia stood and let him help her into her jacket. "But thanks."
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Alex started. She realized she had been dozing, and she didn't know how long for. She felt shaky, and wished she had been able to eat more in the last few days. She prayed that she had not missed Olivia's return from work. Not being able to talk to her, to touch her, was almost more than she could bear. But she could bear it if she had to. To protect Olivia. The truth would be too much for Olivia to handle. But she needed to at least see her, to reassure herself that she was safe. And then, maybe, once it was all over. Maybe then … Alex's heart contracted. It wasn't fair to expect anything from Olivia.
Alex picked up her tea, and realized it was almost cold. Irenka looked up and saw her inadvertent moué of distaste at the lukewarm liquid. A few minutes later, she brought a fresh cup to her. She patted her gently on the arm and withdrew.
Alex wanted to cry. She didn't know why this woman's kindnesses affected her so much. Maybe it was because she hadn't experienced much kindness in recent months. Surreptitiously she wiped away a tear. And then she saw her. Olivia.
Olivia struggled through the snow; it was only a few hundred yards from the subway station to her apartment, but the snow and wind were fierce. By the time she reached the doorway to her apartment block, Olivia was covered with snow.
She was still wearing that jacket, though, Alex saw. The leather jacket that she had given her for her last birthday before … before everything had gone so catastrophically wrong.
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Olivia sank into the armchair, and rested her head in her hands. She wanted a drink so badly, but she had deliberately avoiding keeping any liquor in her apartment since Alex had gone. She was afraid, as she had never been before, that she could turn into her mother. She had seen her mother taking solace in the bottom of a bottle, and that had led to disaster.
Alex had been so sweet when her mother had died. She died almost a year before they had gotten together, but the comfort and kindness Alex had offered had been way more than just a friend would give. Olivia felt hot tears burn. She swallowed. She stood and shook herself. She didn't care, any more. Just this once, she would get a half bottle of whisky. Feeling numb had to be better than feeling like she did right now.
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Alex took out her wallet and extracted a couple of bills. She saw Irenka watching her quietly as she shrugged into her coat. There was no point staying any longer tonight. Olivia was in safe, and she really should get home before the whole city ground to a halt. Cabs were still running; maybe she would catch one home. She felt cold and numb with exhaustion, but she knew she wouldn't sleep, not properly.
Alex strode out into the night, startled by how low the temperature had gotten. The sidewalk was slushy under her feet, as the salt that the city had spread melted it without, it seemed, making it any less cold.
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Olivia pulled her jacket up to her neck as she exited her building, trying to ward off the bitter cold. And then she saw her. It couldn't be. She took a few steps forward, convinced that it was just wish fulfilment. The woman was standing right in front of her, her hand out to hail a cab.
"Alex?" Olivia's voice shook as she placed a soft hand on her shoulder.
Alex whipped round and saw the one person she most wanted to see … and most wanted to avoid. Her heart raced as she tried to adapt to the shock. She swayed, her fragile grasp on her own equilibrium faltering. "Liv?" her voice was weak. The sidewalk shimmered in front of her, and then tilted. She felt sick. She reached out a hand to steady herself, but could find nothing to anchor herself.
Olivia tried to catch Alex as she fell, concentrating on protecting her head from the unforgiving concrete. They ended up in an inelegant heap, Alex's body cushioned by melting snow. The fresh snow kept coming down. Olivia looked at Alex's pale face, and shivered, remembering the last time she had been so white; she had been lying on the sidewalk then. But she hadn't been shot this time, Olivia forced herself to remember. She looked sick, but she was unhurt.
Olivia shook herself. Very gently, she placed a soft hand on Alex's cheek, relieved when she started to come around. "Let's get you inside," she said, after a few moments, and helped her to her feet.
Alex allowed Olivia to guide her to her apartment. She was in shock, and knew this shouldn't happen. But just the feel of Olivia's strong arm around her waist was too hard to resist. Before she knew it, she was on Olivia's couch, a blanket around her shoulders.
"You're like ice," Olivia's voice drifted toward her. "I'm gonna run the tub."
When Alex looked around next, she was alone in Olivia's living room. It was just as she had remembered, with the exception of a large, black and white photograph of herself on the table next to her. She remembered that day – Olivia had insisted on spending a day at Coney Island. Alex had initially protested, until she had realized that Olivia had never been. It was yet another thing that she had missed during her lonely childhood. So Alex had acquiesced, and the look of delight on Olivia's face had filled her with joy.
"Oh God," Alex realized what was happening. Olivia had suffered so very much; at the age of 33, she had seen more misery than anyone should see in a lifetime. She couldn't put her through any more. Shakily, she got to her feet. She saw a pad of paper by the phone. She tried to hold it together as she wrote the note:
Liv, I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry.
And then she left.
The temperature as Alex stood on the sidewalk, waiting for a cab, was colder than she had ever experienced. It was only then that she realized that she was soaked through. Her woolen coat, usually so warm, was dripping with ice. When the cab rolled up, she managed to get the door open with numb fingers, and gave her address.
It was barely warmer in the cab, and Alex's heart froze further when she looked up and saw Olivia's distraught face at the apartment window. "Can you turn up the heat?" her teeth chattered.
"Heater's bust, lady," the cabbie replied laconically.
By the time Alex got to her apartment, the cold had numbed her reflexes. It took her three attempts to get her wallet open, and she had no idea how she managed to make her way to the elevator. Her doorman wasn't at his post, and for that she was grateful. She wasn't sure she could formulate any words to explain her state.
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Hastily, Olivia flung on some dry clothes, and then pelted down the stairs, not waiting for the elevator in her building. She hailed a cab, and gave Alex's address. This was not going to happen again. And there was something wrong; she could just tell. She had never seen such depths of misery as she had seen in Alex's eyes. She didn't care what it took, she was going to take care of Alex. Somebody had to.
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Alex didn't even look up as Olivia let herself into the apartment. Olivia was surprised, though relieved, to find that her old keys worked. Alex was huddled on the couch, a tinge of blue around her lips. She wasn't even shivering. Olivia touched her face; it was ice cold. Alex didn't react.
Olivia could tell that Alex was in shock, and was also probably in the early stages of hypothermia. "I'm going to take you to the hospital," she said gently.
Alex blinked.
"I'm just going to get you some dry clothes, and then I'll get a cab, and we'll get you checked over."
Alex shook her head slightly. "No," she whispered weakly. "No hospital."
"Alex, you're sick. I'm going to take care of you."
Alex jerked away from her. "No," her voice was panicky. "No hospital," she was crying now. "No doctors. I can't … please … don't make me." She stumbled to her feet.
Olivia could see real fear in her eyes. "Okay, honey," she spoke softly.
"No hospital," Alex's breathing was coming in short gasps. "I'm … I can't .. it's ..."
Olivia stood in front of her, careful not to touch her. "It's okay," she said. "Alex, look at me."
When Alex's fear-filled eyes lifted to meet her own, Olivia felt her heart explode. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Alex was starting to shake though, and this was a good sign; at least her body was trying to warm itself up.
Olivia reached out tentatively, and was relieved when Alex allowed her to place her hand on her arm. "Okay, honey. I won't take you to the hospital. I swear. I'm going to try and warm you up here, okay? We're going to get you dry and in bed. I'm going to light the fire in your room, and then I'll get in the bed with you and hold you. Skin-to-skin, that'll warm you up gently. Can I do that?"
Alex reached out for her hand and grasped it surprisingly strongly. "I didn't cheat on you," she said, her voice shaking.
"C'mon," Olivia started to slide Alex's soaked coat off her shoulders. She suppressed a gasp. Alex was thinner than she had ever seen her … all apart from her belly. Olivia instinctively placed her hand on the cold flesh; she had imagined this moment, but it had never been like this. Alex was pregnant, five or six months by the look of it.
"I didn't cheat," Alex tried to stem her tears.
Olivia leant down and scooped her into her arms. "I'm going to take care of you now," she whispered, grateful as Alex buried her face in her neck. "It's going to be okay."