A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews – they're not all showing up with the story for some reason but I can see them in my email and appreciate the support and feedback! The next couple of chapters are going to be tough, but lighter times are imminent.
Rating: K+
Chapter 7: Loss
The gray, overcast day seemed fitting. Alex pulled her black pea coat tightly against her thin frame, shivering not so much from the cold than from the situation. Having opted for a pair of Toms rather than her normal stilettos, she felt smaller than usual, the gravity of it all weighing on her deeply.
She stole a subtle glance at her companion. Olivia was walking along silently next to her, hands shoved deeply into her pockets, face slack and largely unreadable. It had surprised the attorney when she had responded to her text indicating that she'd accompany her to the graveyard. Alex wasn't sure that she could do it alone. At the same time, she wasn't sure if she could do it with anyone other than Olivia. Part of her felt selfish, guilty for dragging Olivia on what was bound to be an emotional journey. But truthfully, she was desperate. Desperate to feel anything other than numbness towards the situation of her "death."
They continued to wander down the pathway at the Green-Wood Cemetery. The air was quiet other than the chirping of a few song birds and the rustling of November leaves. At first, Alex had tried to occupy herself by looking at the headstones, the names and dates, wondering about them. In the back of her mind, she wondered how many other tombstones were fakes, decoys of people lost but still living. People who had been like her.
Soon enough, they approached familiar grounds – well, familiar to Alex. The Harriman family burial grounds, where her New York ancestors had been laid to rest. Although similar grounds existed on her father's side up in Boston, her parents had long since made the decision to have their family buried in Brooklyn. Matriarchal in contrast to their traditional upbringing. Alex imagined that when they were making this decision, they were considering their own last will and testament, not that of their only child. Of course, this proved not to be true, at least not fully. While Alex's father had passed away during her first year of law school, her mother had believed she outlived her, passing away two years later while the attorney was in WITSEC. She had been told it was a stroke, but Alex had to wonder if grief had played a role.
The blonde fiddled with the bouquet of flowers in her hand – lilies, her mother's favorites – her mind lost in thought. A gentle hand on her back pulled her out of her thinking. "Over here," Olivia said softly, directing Alex off to the right. Alex swallowed heavily and nodded. Of course Olivia had become familiar with her family's burial plot too. The brunette had been at her funeral. The blonde couldn't quite imagine what the brunette had gone through, burying her lover who she knew was in fact alive. Alive but without guaranteed return. She didn't know anything about how Olivia was during that time other than the fact that she spoke at her funeral. The detective hadn't told her. Not during the Connors trial and certainly not after. Truth be told, Alex wasn't quite ready to think about that.
The two women walked stiffly over soft dewy grass, past engraved marble headstones bearing the Harriman surname alongside other derivatives, new identities picked up through love and marriage. Alex's heart twinged in pain as she realized that she used to think that her tombstone would bear the name Benson. But there it was, a few yards away. In between the headstones of Caroline Elizabeth Harriman-Cabot and Alexander H. Cabot sat her own.
Alexandra Caroline Cabot
July 23, 1974 – October 14, 2003
Beloved Daughter and Friend
Alex stopped short at the sight, raw pain of the moment hitting her hard. She thought that she would be okay, but actually being there threw her off kilter, knocked the wind straight out of her lungs. In the haze of her grief, she could make out the sound of Olivia's voice but not what she was saying, and she could feel herself being held steady by the brunette.
Eventually, a bit of the fog cleared, and she slowly came back to her senses. "That's it, Alex. You're okay. You're safe. Just breath," she heard Olivia instruct gently. Inhaling and exhaling with intention, Alex blinked a few times, clearing her vision. Gathering herself with all that she had, she took a step forward towards the headstones.
She visited her father's first, kissing her fingertips before placing them on top of the cold stone. She then stepped over to her mother's tombstone. She hadn't ever visited the older woman's grave, unable to face her own burial site. Olivia had since looked away, allowing the blonde privacy for such an intimate moment. Crouching down, she traced her fingers over the engraved text: Loving wife, mother, and friend. Tears pooled in her light blue eyes, and she placed the lilies down in from of the headstone. "I love you, Mom," she whispered into the air.
Trying to imagine that her mother was there with her, giving her strength, Alex finally turned her attention to her own headstone. Now that some of the angst of the moment had passed, blowing away with the brisk autumn wind, more than anything, it just felt odd. The absurdity of looking at your grave when you are very much alive was something that Alex wasn't sure that she would ever be able to put into words. She examined the tombstone solemnly, trying to come to some sort of peace with it. As she reached the foot of it, however, a previously unnoticed detail shocked her.
Flowers. And not just any flowers. Her favorite flowers.
Sitting at her feet were a small bunch of pink and purple peonies. There had clearly been there for a while, browning on the edges with fallen petals and limp stems; however it couldn't have been that long. Certainly no more than a month. Furrowing her brow, Alex looked up and around at the nearby plots, trying to see if there were similar flowers in front of the other tombstones. Perhaps the cemetery keepers put them out for those who were no longer visited. Instead of seeing more of the same flowers, however, she was met with Olivia's horror-stricken face.
"I – Alex, I –" the detective stuttered with fluster. "I – I thought they would have cleaned them up. I didn't think – I mean, I didn't notice. I'm so sorry."
And that's when it hit her. Olivia had left her the flowers.
The blonde's face crumbled, and she looked at her ex-lover in her pain-stricken mocha brown eyes.
"You – you came here?" she asked softly. Olivia sighed heavily but nodded. "What – when?"
Realizing that there was no way out of an explanation, Olivia swallowed heavily and cleared the lump out of her throat. "I came last month." The blonde just looked at her blankly, and the brunette braced herself for the inevitable and likely backlash.
Instead, however, Alex just uttered two more words. Broken. "Ho— how long?"
Olivia breathed out heavily, forcing herself to blink back tears, gaze now directed straight at the ground, unable to meet Alex's. "Every year," she began meekly. "Every October 14."
Alex's blue eyes widened in shock at the admission, both hands cupped over her mouth, realization hitting her with force.
Olivia had visited her grave every year on the anniversary of her death. And every year, the brunette brought peonies. The flowers that she had sent to the ADA's office after their first date. The ones that Alex must have mentioned were her favorite in passing long before she and the detective were ever romantically involved. Olivia was always like that. Remembering the smallest details about the blonde, demonstrating her care in the smallest acts of love.
But this? There was more meaning to this gesture than could be put into words.
Alex burst into tears, eyes flooding as they released years of pent up pain, of grief, of anger, of hope. Olivia hurried over to her, pulling the younger woman into an embrace, cupping the back of her head. And it was not long until she too began to cry.
To any passersby, it would have just looked like two women mourning the loss of a loved one who had died. In actuality, the couple was mourning the loss of the life together that they could have had.
*SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU* SVU*
Once both women's last tears had dissipated, they wordlessly moved back to Olivia's car, exhausted physically and emotionally. They reached the asphalt street, and the detective opened Alex's door before walked over to the driver's side of her _. Before she got in, however, she paused, palms flush against the hood of the vehicle. She sighed. "Alex?" The blonde looked up at her expectantly, truly unsure of what the woman was about to say. "I – I know that a lot has happened between us, and that we're – well, that things are different now. But I…" She breathed in heavily. "I miss you, Alex. As a friend." The attorney stifled back a grimace at the brunette's choice of qualifier, instead giving her an encouraging nod. "Do you think – well, do you think that maybe we could try again? Try being friends?"
Alex looked over at the woman on the other side of the car. The woman who she had and continued to deeply love. She wanted nothing more than for Olivia to take her back, for them to pick up where they had left off so many years ago. But she knew that wasn't likely. That was what made up romance novels, not real-life. She gave the nervously waiting brunette a sad smile. "I'd like that."
Olivia matched the upturn of her lips, and both women finally entered the car. They were quiet once more as the detective turned on the ignition and began to drive down the hill out of the cemetery grounds. When they reached the main road, Alex spoke. "Liv?" The detective turned to look at the blonde, who was pensive. Her cerulean eyes betrayed a glimmer of hope. "Do you think we- I can get the headstone removed?"
Olivia smiled at the younger woman, heart swelling. "Yeah," she said softly. Reaching over, she gave the blonde's hand a squeeze before returning her hand to the wheel and driving out of the gate.
