Stay

Chapter 1

A/N: Alright friends. Here I am, back with another story. This is the first time I've ever written for Cabenson, so we'll see how it goes. Thank you so much for your comments and follows! I really appreciate all of you! Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know what you like about this story or any other thoughts you may have. If you would like to connect via social media, my Instagram/twitter is faceinbud.

This story starts post 3x18 "Guilt" and will explore Alex and Olivia's blossoming relationship. I watched the episode recently because I love me some Alex Cabot, and this little plot nugget wouldn't go away. So now that In the First Degree and Dirt in the Carpet are finished, I decided to go for it. If you like this story, I encourage you to check those other ones out.

I need to add both a disclaimer that I do not own SVU or its characters and a trigger warning for SVU-related topics. I will try to be more specific when necessary.

It was raining. The type of rain that pummeled any metal that was unlucky enough to be outside and exposed to the harsh elements with enough force to vibrate the lobes of her brain. All Olivia wanted was an itsy-bitsy semblance of peace, of quiet, but she didn't think she'd ever receive such an irrational desire. SVU didn't leave room for peace.

An abrasive knock against her apartment door made her wince, and she grumbled irritably to herself as she rose from her bed, a feat that took some straining, and padded lugubriously towards the source of the unwelcome noise. It's not as if she had been sleeping, but she should have been, so whoever this intruder was, they didn't respect what Liv should have been doing. The incessant pounding continued, and Benson couldn't help the gasp that escaped her as she looked through the peep hole, squinting to ensure the person standing in the hallway was the person she thought she saw.

The brunette flung the door open. "Alex, are you okay? It's the middle of the night." She knew it was a dumb question. Alex Cabot was definitely not okay. She was drenched from head to toe, marble-sized globs of water falling from her flattened hair. The woman sniffed, not responding to the detective's inquiry as she shifted awkwardly on her feet. Alex was most definitely worse for wear, but the soft blush playing on her normally pale features struck the older of the two women. Despite being freezing, exhausted, desperate, and wet, the normally cool prosecutor was still so beautiful. Olivia's breath caught in her throat, registering that the sight of her colleague in her most vulnerable state had a significant effect on her. She cleared her throat to distract from the tension that had grown around them, licking her lips. "Alex?" she asked again when the blonde refused to meet her eyes. "Are you alright?"

The ADA worried her lower lip, crossing her legs to preserve warmth and to protect her shivering form. "How do you do it?" Olivia raised an eyebrow in speculation but didn't ask a clarifying question, instead waiting for the other woman to explain herself. Alex blinked her heavy eyes, a dull ache having built up in her eyelids from several days of relentless crying and sleep deprivation. "Losing victims all the time..." she continued dejectedly. This was supposed to be a temporary assignment for her, as Charlie Phillips and Liz Donnelly clearly did not think she had the fortitude to continue prosecuting these crimes longer than was necessary for her to get the inside information the Chief ADA had been searching for. She had fought against them at first. Alex knew she was a tough cookie and she did handle the case content better than an Assistant DA had in quite some time, at least at first. But Alex was beginning to question if her bosses may have been right. The things human beings were capable of doing to one another just…broke her somehow. And it's not like she hadn't been painfully aware of the horrible truth of sex crimes before, but having this kind of responsibility in a system that constantly worked to undermine her efforts? Alex was tired. She could see herself curling up into a ball the next time a jury returned a verdict of not guilty. It was probably a good thing she'd been suspended because she had some serious soul searching to do. "How do you keep doing this job, Liv?"

Olivia wanted to usher the exhausted woman inside and dry her pruny fingers, dripping hair, and shivering body. She wanted to…hug her. Benson had felt a sense of kinship with ADA Cabot near instantly upon meeting her. A single career woman, dedicating her life to putting perps away, albeit aloof at times—Olivia would be lying if she had tried to claim she didn't see the similarities. Detective Benson hadn't gone on a date in more than a year ("I think about rape all day" wasn't exactly a great conversation starter) and she hadn't done more than kiss in longer than that, but she knew she remembered what a spark felt like. It felt like a firm handshake and a waft of rose perfume as flaxen locks blew in the breeze created by the brisk walk of toned legs—

Why was she thinking about this? It was wrong, she told herself. Even if the two women hadn't been coworkers, one look at the disheveled woman said all Olivia needed to hear. At the very, very least, now was not the time. The only thing appropriate for the time was for Benson to invite the younger woman inside for tea, as Alex clearly needed a friend—and just a friend—right now, but the brunette was still so shocked that the person who plagued her dreams at night had just shown up at two a.m, that she remained frozen in place, slack-jawed and silent. "I..."

"I just got a call." Alex figured that if Olivia wasn't going to talk, she might as well fill the uncomfortable quiet between them. This was the kind of thing that the attorney should go to a therapist with, if she had allowed herself to be vulnerable enough to speak to one. But this was not a possibility for the ADA. If anyone knew her, truly knew her, it just wouldn't be safe. Olivia was her only option, and she'd be kidding herself if she said she hadn't just wanted to see her face, hear her deep but agonizingly gentle voice. That compassion, the kindness the woman directed towards victims—Alex dreamed of being on the receiving end of that kind of care just once in her life. Stick to the facts, Cabot, she chastised herself internally, her father's gravelly tone coming through. "Sam Cavanaugh died earlier today."

"Oh, Alex. I'm so sorry."

There it was. Alex could hear it, sense it in her breath when the brunette switched on "Empathy Mode." Though it was practiced to some extent, no doubt a protective mechanism, it was clearly genuine, and it was Cabot's turn to be at a loss for words.

She thought she could save him. A young boy violated, betrayed by someone he trusted, someone he should have been able to trust. Alex's idea to solicit a confession from Barnett had been something she was proud of, a promising attempt to spare Sam the retraumatization that testifying would surely inflict, and after everything that happened…the coma and—she just couldn't bring herself to stop trying. His childhood had been stolen and now the rest of his life, and Alex didn't stop it. She only made it worse.

And the look on Olivia's face now. Somehow, despite her rigid exterior and her years' worth of efforts to maintain a stoic façade, Detective Benson always managed to look at her in just the right way in the exact moment that would crumble—No. Alex's eyes watered and her vision blurred, red hot panic taking over every traitorous inch of her body. She just wanted to be close to Olivia, but she couldn't. She had to go. "I just…I didn't want to be alone tonight. I realize now how inappropriate this is. I'll…I'll go. I apologize, Detective."

Olivia's mouth was moving before she could stop it, her hand jerking forward to catch the other woman around the wrist. "No. Alex." The hold was gentle, but it scorched Alex's skin, the attorney not knowing if she should grant herself permission to feel what she was feeling. Olivia was safe, wasn't she? The brunette pulled her hand away the instant she saw the ADA's eyes widen in—What? Fear? Surprise? Arousal? Cabot was the definition of an enigma, never letting anyone see past the professional exterior that lived for nothing but putting rapists away. But was that her entire purpose, all that there was to her personality, her existence? No one could say for sure, and Olivia certainly wasn't an exception to that rule. But the detective's breath caught at the sight of the woman in front of her, someone she no doubt cared for in one way or another. Alex, although no longer trapped by Benson's enthralling touch, still looked like she was preparing for an escape. All Olivia wanted to do was to provide support, comfort, anything else the blonde was willing to ask for. She reached her arm out again, letting her fingers hover painstakingly over porcelain skin. "Stay."

A/N: I hope you liked this first chapter. Just a short introduction to see if there is interest. I should start posting the In the First Degree one-shots soon, so let me know if you have any requests for those. As for this story, I do have a general plan as to where it's going, but I'm happy to consider any of your ideas. Thanks for reading!

-Gabby