Alex's POV

I can do this. I am professional and rational enough to do this. I can remain calm and not lose my temper. I have to remain calm. Olivet won't ever clear me for work if I blow my top today.

I'm on my way to the ADA's office – or, I should say, my office. About this time of afternoon I'd be about to take my lunch with Olivia. I'd have received a text from her by now inquiring as to where I wanted to go, and I'd be anxiously awaiting her arrival to meet me. I'd give her a quick kiss before we left my office and over lunch we'd discuss anything but our current cases. Olivia and I have a strict non-work rule about lunch conversation.

Damn it, why did this all have to happen? Why can't Olivia and I return to the normalcy of our lives before this all happened? Why is it so difficult to get back there?

I got the phone call this morning while I was still in bed. From Casey Novak, of all people. She seemed surprised when I answered. I guess after our first less than civil meeting in front of the elevators outside the DA's office she was hoping to bypass me and leave me a message. I was civil to her on the phone; not polite, but civil. She asked me to come in this afternoon to discuss my rape case. Well, she didn't use the word "rape", but we both know what it's about.

I've been trying to overcome my bitterness towards Casey by telling myself that she's only filling in, the way I did early in my career when another ADA would take leave. It's not her fault she was asked, so I should try to keep that in mind and be as nice and receptive as I can. Besides, Olivia says she's doing a decent job as ADA.

"Are you nervous?"

Olivia's voice from the driver's seat startles me from my thoughts. I'm leaning against the window with my forehead, and I'm surprised to see we're almost at the office. I had been too lost in my thoughts to notice.

"I am. A little," I confess. No use in trying to pretend I'm not; Olivia knows me better than that.

"Well, you've been through so many of these meetings. You're going to ace it."

"Yeah, I've been through many of these meetings as the ADA, not the victim. It's not exactly the same thing."

A shudder goes through me as I use the word "victim" to describe myself. No matter how many times I say it, I'll never get used to that word being in reference to me.

"You'll do fine, Alex. Just keep calm and remember that Casey is doing her job just like you have to. Don't get angry."

I frown at her words. "No, she's doing my job," I say.

"Alex –"

"No, Liv, I should be prosecuting this case!" I'm getting worked up already and we're not even there yet.

"Alex, they would never let you." Olivia's tone is soft and reassuring but it's doing little to calm me.

"That isn't what I mean. I mean I should be prosecuting someone else's case. This shouldn't be mine. It shouldn't have been me."

That's such a selfish thing to say. I don't wish what happened to me on anyone, so why would I say that?

Olivia wastes no time giving an answer. She takes one hand off the steering wheel and takes my hand. She gives it a squeeze. "I agree with that, baby. It should have been someone else."

Neither of us says anything else about it. We both know we shouldn't be talking this way, given what we see every day on the job.

But your outlook on everything changes when you become a victim.

Too soon we have left the safety of our car and we step off the elevator and I'm walking down the all-too familiar hall towards my office. Olivia and I are hand-in-hand. Normally I'd be appalled at such a public display in my work place, but right now I don't care at all. The comfort feels nice.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Olivia asks as we approach my office.

"No. You're not supposed to. I'm sure it would be okay since I am who I am, but I want to do this right and by the book. I don't want any special favors." We stop in front of the closed door and I turn towards Liv and give her hand another squeeze. "So would you mind waiting in the reception area for me?"

Olivia smiles at me. She reaches out and brushes my cheek with her thumb, them gives me a light kiss. "Of course, baby. I'm so proud of you. You know where I'll be if you need me."

As I watch Olivia walk away a million emotions rush through me. I wish I could go with her. I wish I could get out of here. I wish I could go back to my bed and never leave, shut out reality forever.

But life doesn't work that way.

Reluctantly I turn towards the closed door again. I stare at the name on the front – "A. Cabot". Seeing those words so prominently displayed whenever I'd approach my door used to fill me with such pride. Now it just makes me feel ashamed.

Am I supposed to knock, or just go in? It's my office – why should I feel so out of place and awkward?

But if Casey is busy I don't want to just barge in, so I hesitantly raise my fist and knock on the door. It feels so foreign to me. This is something I never thought I'd be doing.

It takes her a few minutes to open the door. She was probably on the phone or maybe I'm interrupting a meeting. If that's the case I'd love to get out here.

Casey smiles at me unsurely, no doubt remembering our last encounter. I feel a bit bad about that. Maybe I should apologize. That would be the right thing to do. May as well go into this on the right track.

Casey holds the door open for me. "Thanks for coming by. Come on in."

She sounds just as awkward and unsure about inviting me into my office as I feel. I step inside without saying a word.

Immediately I want to turn around and leave. This is my office. My office, where I haven't been in weeks. My office, where I have spent countless hours pouring over cases. My office, with my plaques and photographs. My office . . . where I now feel like an outsider.

There's an open case file on the desk and I briefly look at the name on the corner. It's not my case file. It's not one I recognize. Must be a new case. A new case that I should be handling.

Casey hesitantly tells me to take a seat and I sit down in the chair in front of my desk. It feels so strange to be sitting here seeing someone else sit behind my desk. I can't even find the words to accurately description how it feels.

Then I notice it. My nameplate that sits so elegantly and proudly on my desk is gone. Instead, I'm looking at an identical one that says, 'ADA Casey Novak.'

What the hell is going on here? I'm immediately filled with anger.

Casey sees me looking at it and quickly says, "I'm sorry. I brought it from my office. I just didn't want anyone to mistake me for you."

Like that's ever going to happen, I think bitterly. You're flattering yourself.

Calm down, Alex; you would probably do the same thing. It's okay; it's not like she changed the name on the door. It's easily replaceable. Tone it down a notch.

I plaster a smile on my face and swallow my pride. "I want to say I'm sorry for that little…encounter by the elevators the other day. I was being rude. That's not normally me, and I'm sorry. It was just a rough day for me."

There. That wasn't so hard. I was the one who extended the olive branch. Good for me. I get a gold star for the day.

Casey looks a bit relieved at my words and the gentle tone I used to utter them. She smiles again. "It's okay. It's completely understandable, and I know how hard it was for you to come here today, so thank you very much for agreeing."

This is going well. I haven't leapt across the desk, strangled her and taken back my rightful spot in my chair yet. I can do this. I'm strong enough to do this.

Casey gets up and approaches my file cabinet and I watch her dig around for the file she's looking for. I find myself frowning; I hope she hasn't messed up my system too much. I have my filing just the way I like it.

When she returns again I see she has my case file this time. The frown returns. When I'm expecting a witness or victim, I make sure to have the relevant file ready to go. It's unprofessional to have to go digging for it and waste your witness or victim's time.

But I bite my tongue and say nothing about it.

"So how are you doing?" she asks me as sits back down and opens the file.

I feel myself stiffen. I don't like this. It's not an appropriate question. I'm well aware that she was probably asking out of respect, but we have no relationship outside of this case and as ADA she should know not to try and make it personal.

I close my eyes and tell her, "I'm sorry, but I really just want to discuss this case and go home, so can we do it quickly, please? Ask me only what you need to ask me and nothing more. I'm not here to make a friend and this isn't a therapy session."

So much for being polite, Alex.

Casey seems a bit surprised but to my relief doesn't attempt any more lame small talk. Instead she reads over something in the file – mostly likely only to avoid my icy gaze. I'm really giving it to her. I'm surprised she hasn't turned to stone yet.

"So you identified Corey Jenner in the lineup you viewed, and you were very certain."

"Yes, I remember. And yes, I was certain it was him. He had approached me in the bar earlier that night. Told me his name. Came onto me."

"But you told Elliot he had a ski mask on."

I frown. In a situation like this, it should be 'Detective Stabler', not 'Elliot'. You don't make anything personal. Where did this woman get her training?

I try to keep my answer as civil as possible. "He did. When he attacked me."

As soon as I say the word "attacked me" a sudden memory comes flooding back. I'm on my back in the alley and he's above me. He's in complete control.

"Then how do you know it was him?"

I hear her ask me this and I have the response at the tip of my tongue, but I can't make it come out. I can see him again, smell him again. I grip the armrests of the chair so hard my knuckles are turning white. I take a deep breath to try to calm myself.

"Alex? Are you okay?"

At the sound of my name I snap back into the now, leaving that alley and the sounds and smells of it behind. I'm back in the chair in front of my desk again, looking once more at the woman who just called me by my name casually.

I quickly stand, overcome with anger. "It's 'Miss Cabot', not Alex! You don't know me, we're not friends, and in a professional setting like this it's appropriate to call me Miss Cabot. If you don't have the proper respect for me than I'm not going to continue."

Casey seems taken aback and quickly apologizes. "I'm sorry, Miss Cabot. You're right. I thought it would make it a bit easier for you –"

"I don't need you to make it easier for me!" I'm shouting now, my intentions to be civil and polite completely abandoned.

"I'm sorry. Please sit down. I didn't mean to upset you."

I feel my heartbeat returning to normal and myself calming down gradually. I stay standing for a few more minutes before I sit back down.

I didn't mean to lose it like that. I shouldn't have lost it. She's going to tell Olivet and this is going to make things worse.

Casey eyes me suspiciously, as if she doesn't trust me not to blow up again. When she's finally satisfied I'm stable for the moment, she asks, "Can you tell me what happened?"

And that's when I lose it again. No, I can't tell her what happened. I can't tell Dr. Allen, or Olivet, or even the person I love the most in this world. So why would she think I could tell her?

I stand again. "No. You have it all in the statement. I don't need to repeat it." I'm shaking now. I'm so upset and angry. I just want this done and over with.

Casey looks regretful. "You know you have to tell me. I'm sorry. Elliot's report –"

"Detective Stabler's report! Not Elliot! You don't call him Elliot!" I'm yelling so loudly now that I'm surprised there isn't a group of onlookers outside the office.

"Miss Cabot, please calm down –"

But I don't stop. "You think just because you're doing my job that you're one of the gang now? Do you call Olivia 'Liv' too? You haven't earned the right to do that!"

I'm hurting myself here and I know it but I can't stop myself. I'm uncomfortable in this setting and I'm stressed and this is too much right now.

"You need to be re-trained. I'm not talking to you. I'll see to it that another ADA gets this case."

I turn around to leave when Casey stops me by reaching for my wrist. She doesn't touch me but comes close to it and that's all it takes to push me even further over the edge.

"Don't you touch me!" I'm breathing heavily now and I feel light-headed, like I'm going to pass out. I know I'm getting much too worked up and even on the verge of acting crazy, but I can't seem to control myself. And this terrifies me.

Casey starts to say something else, but I cut her off by quickly picking up a metal statue I keep on my desk. In one motion I throw it as hard as I can against the glass on the door. The glass immediately shatters and I hear it rain down on the floor below.

I run out of the office. My heart is beating a million miles per hour as I walk quickly down the hall. I'm in disbelief over what I have just done. I overreacted to the fullest extent of the word. I acted like a crazy person. There is no way in hell that Olivet will clear me to return to work any time soon; I just guaranteed myself that.

Less than ten minutes later I find myself in Liz Donnelly's office. I had told her secretary that it was extremely urgent and couldn't wait. And reading the desperation – almost panic – on my face, she had immediately let me go into Liz's office.

"Alexandra, is everything all right?" Liz rises from behind her desk as soon as I enter. A look of concern falls over her face.

I remain in front of her door and shake my head. I can feel my heart rate decreasing, and my breathing is slowly normalizing.

Liz approaches me, but I stop her by holding up my hand. I know she's no doubt heard about my attack and is concerned, but her concern is something I can't deal with right now. I want to get this done and over with quickly. I have had enough for today.

"I want you to be the ADA handling my case," I blurt out, not offering an explanation as to why.

"Casey Novak is filling in for you and has already been assigned the case."

I shake my head. "I – I can't talk to her."

Liz looks me at me for a good long moment before she asks tentatively, "Why?"

I can't get into this right now. I just need Liz to agree to take the case. "Liz, please. Take the case."

"I'll have to hear a good reason, Alexandra."

Why is she making this so difficult for me?

"I'm more comfortable with you. I know you. I – I can't talk about what happened to me with a total stranger. And I trust you, Liz. I trust you to handle the case appropriately." I feel like I'm going to burst into tears, but I manage to hold them back. "Everything has been so hard, but if you could do this, it would make this so much easier for me. Please." I'm practically begging now. I never beg.

After a moment of careful consideration, Liz relents. "Fine, Alexandra. I'll have the case transferred to me."

I let out a deep breath. "Thank you, Liz. I appreciate it."

She regards me with concern, and speaks in a soft, gentle voice that I've never heard her use before. "How are you holding up, Alexandra?"

Immediately, my anger returns. Liz doesn't need to treat me like a child – I'm an adult and I'm perfectly fine! I almost tell her so, but I bite my tongue. Liz is my boss, and she's just agreed to violate protocol and do me a huge favor. I don't want to do anything to jeopardize either my job or my trial.

"I'm all right," I say instead.

Liz nods. "I think Detective Benson is waiting for you in the reception area. I'll talk to Casey and give you a call."

Olivia's POV

I wait for nearly an hour before Alex comes into the reception area. She would appear as calm and composed as ever to an outside observer, but I know her too well. I notice the slight shaking of her hands and the resignation in her deep blue eyes.

I get to my feet and hold my hand out to Alex. "You ready to go, baby?"

To my surprise, she throws her arms around me and buries her face in the crook of my neck. I freeze for a moment, but then I hug her back, gently stroking her hair. Alex isn't usually one for public displays of affection, but she seems to need me right now and I'm happy to oblige her.

I hold her for several long moments until she pulls back and looks up at me. "Liz is taking my case."

I nod. I don't ask why – I know she'll tell me in her own time if she wants me to know. "You want to go home or you want to get something to eat?"

She shakes her head. "No; let's just go home. I'll make you something for lunch if you're hungry."

I kiss the crown of her head and take her hand. "Okay. Let's go."

When we get home, I start a fire in the grate and locate a bunch of blankets. I hope that cuddling in front of the fireplace will help Alex relax. Although she would never admit it to anyone, I know she's a big softy at heart, and she loves snuggling with me.

She's standing in the doorway, looking a bit unsure until I beckon her to join me. Then she comes to sit beside me and she lets me wrap my arms around her. She exhales deeply and I feel her body relax into me, and I smile slightly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. We sit like that for a moment, and then I gently pull Alex so she's lying down instead of sitting up. She immediately rests her head on my chest and I pull the blanket over us.

Her eyes are fixed on the flames dancing in the grate for several minutes. "He took something from me," she says, so softly that I wonder if she meant to speak aloud. "Something I'll never get back."

I hug her more tightly, wishing with all my heart that I could protect my Alex from all of this. "I know, baby," I say, my heart heavy with her pain.

She looks at me, and I'm surprised to find her eyes are glassy with tears. "I want it back, Liv. I want to feel safe again. I want to feel whole."

There are a million things I want to say to her. That she's safe with me, that things will get better with time, that I'm here for her no matter what. But none of them seem right. So I just kiss her forehead, my own eyes wet with tears. "I know, Lexi," I say again. "I know."

Alex falls asleep in my arms, and I hold her for hours, pressing kisses to her cheeks and hair and forehead and anywhere I can reach. It's not even dinnertime yet, but she's clearly exhausted, poor baby.

I feel my phone start to vibrate in my pocket around 5:00 and disentangle myself from Alex, not wanting to wake her when I answer my phone. Alex whimpers when I let go of her, but I carefully lower her head to the ground so she doesn't bang it and hurt herself, and she relaxes after a few seconds.

I answer the phone with a quiet "Benson," and pad out of the living room so I can talk to whoever it is without waking Alex.

"Detective Benson, it's Donnelly."

"Oh, hi, Liz."

"How's Alexandra doing?" she asks.

I glance at the sleeping form in the living room, buried beneath several blankets and looking at peace, for once, in her slumber. "She's all right, considering. She told me you're handling her case?"

"I am. Did she happen to mention why she asked me to handle her case?"

"No. She didn't say anything. I didn't ask." I can tell by Liz's tone that I probably should have. Some detective I am.

"I spoke to Novak. She says Alex had a bit of a meltdown while they were talking, which is why Alex asked me to take the case."

"What happened?"

"She got pretty upset and threw a glass statue against the door."

I can't believe this. "Alex?"

"That was my reaction, too. But evidently something happened to set her off. I just wanted to see if she was doing all right."

I look at Alex again. "I'll talk to her. Thank you for telling me, Liz."

There's a long pause. "Take care of her, Olivia," Liz says in a soft, almost gentle tone I've never heard her use before.

"I will."

Just as suddenly, Liz switches back into lawyer mode. "I'll give Alex a call over the next few days. She's going to need to come in to discuss the case with me."

"Okay. I'll tell her."

When Liz hangs up, I go back into the living room and knit my brows in concern when I see Alex tossing and turning slightly, her body trembling, whimpers slipping from her lips every few seconds.

I'm beside her in an instant, wrapping Alex up in my arms and holding her tightly. "It's okay, baby," I say quietly, kissing the crown of her head. "You're okay. I'm here."

She starts awake and looks up at me. "Liv?"

"Yeah, baby. I'm here."

She wraps her arms around me and buries her face in my shoulder.

I gently stroke her hair. "Alex, what happened with Casey?" I ask after several minutes.

Alex stiffens. "Who told you about that?"

"Liz."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Sweetie, I'm worried about you. I know something happened and I know it really upset you. I'm here for you, baby. Please, talk to me."

She shakes her head. "I can't, Liv," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

"Did Casey do something?"

"She's just – she's just unprofessional. It bothered me. I overreacted." She hesitates. "Was Liz upset?"

"No, baby. She's just worried about you, too. She wanted to make sure you were all right."

Alex sighs. "I'll give her a call later."

I can tell she doesn't want to discuss this further, so I change tactics. "Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Do you want me to put on a movie?"

She shakes her head again. "No. Just – just stay here. Please." She pauses and looks away. "Will you just hold me?"

I hug her tightly. "Of course. I love you, sweetie."

A tear slips down her cheek and I brush it away. "I love you, too," she whispers, and then suddenly her tears are falling more freely.

I kiss her cheeks. "Shh, shh," I say, trying to calm her. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm here. You're safe." I can feel her heart pounding against my own chest, and I wish once more than I could take this pain for her and bear it myself. I just love her so much.

Alex wipes her eyes. "I'm s-sorry."

"No, baby. Don't be sorry."

Alex burrows into my chest. "This isn't me," she says, her voice muffled. "I just want me back, Liv. Is that too much to ask?"