Title: The Shift
Rating: M
Summary: When Olivia is caught in the middle of a hostage situation with a white supremacist group, she's once again made to face her PTSD, leading to a very important conversation with her former partner.
A/N: I am so wanting them to have THE conversation and I think them both having PTSD is for sure the lead in. This will be what I think should go down in "Our Words Will Not be Heard" tied in with "Not Your Father's Organized Crime". The timeline of how things go down between shows feels like it's our prerogative. I hope y'all like it and please review!
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Another girl is in trouble.
Another girl is in trouble and Olivia Benson is as raw as she has felt in years. Elliot's unexpected return had left her reeling and she felt a shift in herself back to old habits, old thought patterns.
She very distinctly remembers the session with Lindstrom, after her second run in with Lewis, when she'd almost traded her life for a child's. She should've grown from that time. She had grown, but now that shift is there and she's 35 again and she's willing to do anything to keep this girl safe. She feels that intense need like she hasn't in years. Not since before motherhood had become her top priority. She feels a pang of guilt at the thought, but the shift has knocked the feeling back down.
The person she was after Elliot walked out was becoming hazy and she felt the cop, the woman she used to be, taking the reins.
And another girl is in trouble. And she would do anything to save her.
Anything.
Fuck the flashbacks and PTSD flair ups, she'd deal with those. Fuck the guilt of being a single mom. She'd deal with that too. Her son will be proud of this woman. This hero is his mom.
She see's her way in to where the white supremacist monsters are holding the girl and she doesn't hesitate to take her chance.
There is a standoff. Guns pulled by all parties, except the girl who was hanging by her hands in a position that was way too familiar for the old Benson to understand. Olivia refuses to lower her weapon, until one of the men places the barrel on the girl's head. Olivia can't handle the look in the girls eyes. She slowly lowers her weapon.
She feels the kick behind her knees and she falls forward. A man is feeling up her legs, looking for her drop gun and easily tearing it from her ankle. Another is tearing her bullet proof vest from her body. Her brain is skipping tracks. She's outside a granary in Brooklyn. The fingers pulling at her clothes belong to another monster she used to know.
She feels the kick to her stomach. A gun is slammed into her temple with a loud crack. Someone is beating her and she does all she can do to fight back, but they are laughing and she's in her old apartment and she can't figure out how they got there.
She feels the clink of the cuffs on her wrists and she could swear she was in the back of a stolen sedan or in a trunk or stuck to a table where she must aim a gun at her own head.
But that can't be right, that's not who she is right now. She's the Olivia Benson from before. The shift was there, she didn't have to face all of those horrors. Elliot was back and it was like he never left and this wouldn't have happened if he were there. It all can't be true at once.
But it is.
Suddenly, she's back in reality. The girl, not the child from the granary, is hanging from a hook that was screwed into a cross beam. She's crying for help and Olivia knew she had to be present- she had to help this girl.
She hears crude talk from the men- discussions about race.
"A pussy's a pussy." She hears one of them say behind his mask.
She feels her heart speed up as the men laugh in unison.
"Put a bag over her head and you could never tell what kind of filth she is." One of the men laughed, approaching the girl.
All at once, Olivia found her voice, "She's not the filth here."
"What'd you say, bitch?" They turned their attention toward Olivia- just as she wanted.
"She's not filth- you are. You are absolute, putrid scum. Scum that thinks the color of skin defines a fucking thing. Scum that thinks raping a child is funny."
The leader of the group leans down close to her face, but before he can speak, she spits squarely in his eye.
It's slow motion then- she feels her head hit the ground. She feels herself being lifted up to her feet by her hair.
"Ok, so you're brave, huh? Well how about this, it's your choice, we rape her first or you first?"
It's the same question she was asked long ago, she knew the answer instantly, but this time no answer was required from her. Fin and Kat bust through the door simultaneously with a half dozen uniformed cops.
It's over. But it's not over and she knows it.
After being looked over at the ER, Fin gets her back to her apartment and offers to stay. She tells him she's fine and then he offers to call Elliot. She mules it over, but remnants of the old her are still there and she turns down that offer as well.
Noah is, conveniently, at a friends for a sleepover. She will be able to agonize over the last few hours and dodge the vivid flashbacks from Lewis without the fear of disturbing her sweet boy.
She knows she's in for a rough ride for a while. She thinks back to her conversation with Elliot, in the car, and her heart breaks for him because she wouldn't wish this shit on another living soul. Especially not a soul she loves as dearly as his.
She takes a long shower. Tries to avoid looking at the bruising that litters her body, her face. The bruises that somehow make the scars that much more evident.
She can't help but feel the shift reversing. She's not who she was before- that was stolen from her. Stolen by Elliot when he left without a word. Stolen by all of her losses. Stolen by Lewis. She grieves for the old her, but knows, deep down, she's a better and wiser soul for it.
When she finally lays in her bed, she hears the phone ring across the apartment. Groaning, she decides to let it ring. If it's important, they'll try again.
She drifts into what she knows will be a restless sleep.