The sounds of the thundering storm outside found their way into her already tumultuous dreams. She awoke with a start at the violent clap of the rolling thunder. Instinctually, she reached out towards the other side of the bed. Feeling nothing but the cold sheets, the temporary relief that sleep had offered was quickly banished. As reality set in, so did the ache in her chest.
If not for the pain, she would forget she was even 'alive'. The loneliness clawed at her heavily bruised heart resulting in the painful clenching in her chest. Curling around one of her pillows, she allowed herself a few moments of self-pity as the sobs wracked her body. Burying her face in the pillow, she muffled her cries of grief in a futile attempt to gain some sort of control.
Unable to quell the pain, she rolled onto her back, clutched the pillow to her chest, and allowed the tears to fall. She thought she had run out of tears long ago, but the supply seemed limitless. But considering her pain knew no bounds, why should her tears?
Mere moments soon turned to minutes, and soon an hour had passed. Not that it mattered. Time had no real measurement when every moment contained immeasurable pain. So time meant nothing. Pain consumed everything. The irony was not lost on her even in her distraught state. How something as intangible as emptiness could consume anything, let alone everything. It was a phenomenon she would never be able to explain. But that's exactly what her existence was. It was nothing It had been consumed. Life didn't used to be this way. But then again, that was when it was a real life, not this pathetic, choreographed mockery.
Lifting her head off of her tear soaked pillow, she tossed the other pillow aside and flung back the sheets. For survivial's sake, it was necessary to leave the now all-too-big bed. She needed to not be stationary. She needed to move. She needed the activity to remind her that she was capable of deciding something for herself, on her own. No. That wasn't exactly it. She was fully capable. She was never incapable. A Cabot was never incapable. What she needed was a reminder that she did, in fact, still have free will. She needed to remember that she was entitled to it. Technically, free will was now a luxury, but she'd never accept that. She couldn't. That could be weak. That would be giving up. She refused to give up.
She needed her hope. It was the only thing still tying her to the life of Alexandra Cabot. Her determination to not let it go. Just like her memories of Olivia and their life together, she needed her hope to survive. She needed to believe that she would, one day, go home. Return to her life. Return to Olivia. That one day, she would feel safe again. In Olivia's arms.
Her mind lingered on the thoughts of Olivia, as it always did, without fail. Olivia was strong, determined, selfless, and unwavering. She found strength is this. She found strength in Olivia's strength, just as she always had.
Walking over to the window she was situated at earlier that night, she wrapped her arms around herself. Closing her eyes, she imagined that Olivia's arms were wrapped around her instead of her own. Her skin tingled as she fought to absorb every ounce of strength she could from the physical memory. The tears no longer streamed from her crystal blue eyes, but they continued to fall, leaving a trail down her flawless alabaster skin.
Opening her eyes, she was faced with her own reflection in the window. The darkness outside had endowed the glass with a mirror-like quality. Staring herself directly in the eyes, she stated with conviction I am Alexandra Cabot. Her face hardened with determination as a small bit of weight on her soul was lightened.
A flash of light caught her eye. A twinkle of a shooting star. Looking up, she once again traced the familiar path amongst the stars. Facing her reflection again, she vowed to herself with fervor that she would return to her life, return to her love. Return to herself. With Olivia's strength the support her, with Olivia's resilience to inspire her, and Olivia's love to guide her, she would find herself again. She promised herself, and she promised Olivia, that this life would lead them back to each other, one day. One day. And just like that, the bruises began to fade. The journey would be a slow one, but this was a start. A small, almost undetectable, smile graced her lips as her tears rolled over them. Thank you, Olivia Benson. You are always with me. Not a day goes by…