HEY EVERYONE. WOW, IT'S BEEN A MINUTE! I'M NOT SURE IF ANYBODY IS GOING TO BE INTERESTED IN THIS STORY ANYMORE BUT AFTER GETTING THROUGH THE WORST OF SOME SERIOUS PROBLEMS IN MY OWN PERSONAL LIFE, I'VE BECOME REALLY INSPIRED AGAIN AND READ THROUGH THE STORY SO FAR AND SO MANY IDEAS BEGAN FLOODING MY HEAD.
I KNOW I SAID IN THE LAST CHAPTER THAT WE'D FIND OUT IN THIS ONE WHAT HAD HAPPENED TO GRACIE AND WHY SHE'D INITIALLY LEFT SVU, SO I'M SORRY I HAVEN'T DONE THAT. I JUST WANTED TO DO A CHAPTER TO TRY AND CAPTURE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HOW SHE WAS ON THE OUTSIDE TO EVERYONE AROUND HER, AND THE CONSTANT TURMOIL SHE HAD GOING ON INSIDE CONSTANTLY. I'VE NEARLY FINISHED THE NEXT CHAPTER AND SHE FINALLY REVEALS ALL. I HOPE YOU ENJOY!/strong/p

Gracie's POV/p

Every time I sat down, I was straight back up. I couldn't stand still, pacing about my apartment despite being on my third glass of wine. The Xanax I got from my Dr after agreeing to return to SVU was sat on the coffee table and I'd been fiddling with the lid since I'd taken them from the bathroom as soon as I'd gotten home. I barely remember the journey back and it was only now that everything was beginning to sink in. To my amazement, it was the first time since I'd been working there that I'd even had to open the bottle and so far I'd managed to resist taking one. It wasn't something I wanted, I'd been on meds in the past one and I didn't want to take anything now unless I absolutely had to.

As I paced, I took a look around the place I called home and was still surprised at how I'd ended up falling in love with it. Out of the academy, the pay checks weren't exactly heavy but I wanted to get out of section 8 housing. Start fresh, a respectable job. And no matter how run down, somewhere that emI /emhad chosen to live - a false hope that it would all mean I could finally leave the past behind. At the top of a walk up, the door was still the original heavy metal sliding door. Full of damp, faulty heating and a bathroom that it turned out had had awesome potential but at the time I was reluctant to use it. It was barely liveable when I first moved in, a bit of an empty shell but slowly I'd been doing everything on my own, I'd learnt tricks to do things cheaply and I liked the individuality of it all. Although it was supposed to be a temporary solution, to get up onto the mid platform that my bed was on I was still using steps I'd made out of staggered old wooden fruit crates that were also doubling up as storage for the over flow of my copious amount of books. The kitchen was a long and ongoing project, that for the last ten years had consisted of a sink, appliances and a few shelves. But it was finally becoming something now I had finished up cycling two old work benches, making them into worktops that I'd found at a flea market. The lounge area was finally looking good with floor to ceiling shelving units out of different bits of wood and my hard work on the original hard floors had finally paid off and come up nicely.

I'd spent a lot of time imagining Olivia's apartment. Nice finishes to everything. Stylish, without being too modern. I'd often wondered if she'd see my apartment in the same way as I did, thinking about the perfection of her home in my mind.

Fuck

Olivia. Instantly my two minute distraction of admiring my work was gone and my stomach lurched and I took a big gulp of wine before sitting back down and picking up the Xanax. I'd really fucked up. There were so many things causing anxiety and an IAB investigation should have been what was at the forefront of it all. But it wasn't. No, it was the look on Olivia's face as she had come into that room and ordered me out. Despite the way she had snapped at me, there was something else mixed in with the harsh glare she'd given me. Disappointment. Even maybe a little bit of confusion. My feelings toward her had changed so quickly from an intense attraction to something deeper. My relationship with women had become complicated after my last relationship. The way I'd grown up had made me really cynical until I met my ex. She somehow managed to edge her way in to my heart and I'd let myself become vulnerable. My guard was down for the first time and falling in love with her was magical. The day I found her in her bed with someone else was the day I vowed to never let that happen again. I'd had more flings than I could count on both hands but never, ever let anyone close.

And then there was Olivia. This tall, dark, beautiful puzzle that I constantly thought about figuring out. I didn't think it was possible but I think she had built a guard around her as big as mine. Those walls were on strong foundations but I could feel them beginning to wobble when she was around me, and vice versa. But at the end of the day, she was my lieutenant and professional to a fault. My job emand /emwhat had been brewing between the two of us was now potentially on the line. WHY did I care so much about losing something with a woman that was not only straight, but with a woman that nothing had ever happened with?

How was I going to explain to her why I had lost it in that interrogation without letting everything that protected me crumble to nothing? There was a big part of me that actually emwanted/em to tell her everything that had happened which honestly felt insane. My past was something that I had locked up a very long time ago. A shrink didn't need to tell me it very much interfered with the present, but it was certainly not something I ever spoke about. I'd shared everything with my ex, who'd promised to hold it safely for me. Who'd also promised many things, none of which included cheating on me. Proving to me that trust was too sacred to give away. Olivia was the first person that I'd met since who I'd imagined sharing anything with. But I knew myself too well. I would end up telling IAB that I was remorseful for my actions and couldn't explain them. Despite what a mess my personal life was, my career was something I was so, so proud of. I was a woman, I was gay, yet I'd climbed the ladder fast and done it with nothing but hard work and sheer determination. Yet now… the self destruct button had been hit.

All of a sudden, it felt like I couldn't breathe. I stood again, grabbing another bottle of wine and sat back down on the sofa. But as I poured myself yet another glass of wine, the walls were caving in and it felt like there was an elephant sat on my chest. I opened the Xanax bottle and downed double my dose with my wine before sitting back and trying to take some deep breathes, hoping everything would stop spinning and somehow it would all spontaneously be okay.