Chapter 1

It was late. Olivia's apartment was quiet, and dimly lit. The dishes were freshly washed next to the sink and her living room was just how she left it. The privilege of needing a nanny to keep her household in order twitched behind her eyes, as this part of her life felt undeserving, after a week of living at the precinct.

She peaked into Noah's room. He had fallen asleep reading again. The pink biography "My Name is Your's" by a RuPaul All Star drag queen named Alaska, lay half open on the pillow. Olivia gently pulled it away and flipped through it to see if anything vulgar popped out at her.

Noah rustled around. His eyes peaked open.

"Don't worry, Mom. I won't repeat the swear words," Noah mumbled and rolled over back to sleep.

"I love you," she whispered back, placing the book on his shelf and kissing his head of curls.

The wine cabinet was calling to her, but she ignored it. The television seemed like a good way to wind down, but her mind wasn't into it. Eyes wide awakw, thoughts swirling, nothing to calm her but tea and silence. She eventually made her way to the bedroom.

Her nighttime regime began as she put on soft gray pajama pants and her favorite white t-shirt. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, sponged the makeup from her face, and stood in front of her bathroom mirror looking at her bare neck where the golden chains usually lay. Her heart beat double time and flashes of her life sat heavy and hard on her chest.

She let out a deep sigh and shook off the feelings as she patted the water from her cheeks with a towel. Memories and self doubt raced through her mind, insinuating she was missing something or doing something wrong. That feeling of being stuck is what weighed her down the most. She put on a good face in the presence of fear, but when nobody was around, it was easy to let it in like an old friend.

"And who cares," she thought as she put on some Sara Bareilles and gave into the blue of her oblivion. "Was fear really a bad thing?"

That was the question she asked herself every now and again when she would catch a glimpse of the tiny rectangle around her neck that read "fearlessness".

These days she felt a subtle layer of fear and anxiety all of the time. She had gotten so used to it by now that she was numb to its symptoms and a professional at hiding it.

The anxiety would hit her at the most random moments. While she was driving home from work, in an elevator, at the gym, or the worst, when she was having a happy moment with Noah. At work her mind was too consumed with the needs of others to notice a little thing like anxiety, so naturally she gravitated toward work, and always had. It was easy to forget about her own needs there. But in every other aspect of her life this heavy weight would sit on her chest and create a conscious wave of heart palpitations like the slow tick of an old wall clock in a quiet room.

She reached for the golden necklace that she had placed on the sink a few weeks back, and traced the edge of it with her finger.

Fearlessness.

For decades she'd been wearing this golden necklace and had even given countless necklaces away, just like it, to survivors. Preaching to them that their pain wasn't their fault. Repeating the same uplifting phrasing like 'This too shall pass' or 'Time heals everything.' She herself cringed at those catch phrases, because did time really heal everything?

If time were a healer she'd like to interrogate it. She'd like to scream at it.

When will I fill this great gap of loneliness!

Yet, she never got outwardly angry about her loss and fear. And the catch phrase words would fall out of her own mouth…time and time again. And so she prevailed, waiting for time to heal…everything.

Protecting the consistent happiness.

Cautiously wise.

Constantly convincing victims to face their fears, and though all of it was with good intent, she wondered if any of it mattered.

Really would any of them be alive if they had not shown their fear to begin with. She'd shown fear and she'd shown fearlessness. They both had their transgressions.

Most days she felt like her fearlessness may even be preventing her from truly living her authentic self.

After all she was the one person in the room who was expected to be the brave independent fearless feminin leader. The title was a burden to bear, but she loved it. It was like a dance. Show too much ego and you won't be trusted. Share too much of your vulnerability and even the most loyal ally would and could use you, and they usually did.

One mistake. One bad decision. Could lead to the end of her life as she…liked it. And that stress was like a sweet drug that fueled her to stay alive.

When the golden chain broke a few weeks ago, she lay it on the sink with the intention to fix it when she had time. A few days went by. And then a week went by. She noticed it was gone in a meeting and it almost took her breath away. She had forgotten it was at home and for a moment it felt lost. Her mind briefly blinked an image of it lying in the middle of a Manhattan alleyway. Gone forever. Muddied and tarnished. She paused and looked around wondering if anyone noticed her panicked reaction. They didn't, of course, and she breathed again feeling a hint of freedom this time knowing that she may not need to be labeled.

But the chain was safe and still shining like a badge of honor. She put the necklace back on the sink and smoothed several different creams on her face. It felt good to take care of herself.

The week had proven to be historically difficult, and next week would bring the aftermath and the paperwork and the funerals and public speeches. All of the things that she disliked about her job.

She was glad to have had Elliot by her side when they found that bomb. She smiled thinking about him. He'd kept her mind busy and her heart light. Together again in the midst of chaos. His warm body against her side. His eyes piercing and bright. The scent of his collagen filling her office and lingering there after he left. There was no ominous ticking clock when she was lost in the sands of time with Elliot.

It felt so foolish that she would think about him like a school girl would think about a crush, and ridiculous really, because most of the time she couldn't even bring herself to pick up the phone when he called her after hours. But he was her one indulgence when she thought nobody was paying attention. She knew deep down that he filled that void, and it scared her to fill that void. There were too many reasons not to let him in to fill the void. Too many responsibilities to let herself go.

And there it was again, the fear.

God forbid he have an outburst and someone judge her for loving him. And how selfish was that? She wanted him to be this perfect person he was incapable of being, so instead of loving him 'fearlessly' with no expectations, she just pushed all of his genuine advances away. The one man who had always loved her unconditionally, and she was embarrassed by his…visceral reactions to heinous acts of injustice. It's not like he was punching walls over a glass of spilt milk. He was raging to be heard. These situations were always life and death. And he wasn't afraid to advocate with everything inside of him, no matter who was in the room to impress or placat. But not her. Not the fearless leader, Captain Olivia Bensen. She would rather live with her secrets and hold back her emotions, than gamble and lose it all.

Suddenly her thoughts went to Amanda and the large pool of blood on the ground where she got shot. Sonny showing up just as the ambulance was leaving. He was grabbing at her, hoping for answers. His red intense eyes waiting for his fearless leader to tell him that his love was still breathing life into this harsh sick world.

"Love was so easy to lose in this life," she worried.

She stood in her bathroom frozen in contemplation. She held the necklace again only this time over the waste basket, the broken chain dangling. Sonny's unconditional love taking over her thoughts. She'd felt his situation before. The love. The loss. The grief. So many times. Over and over. You let a wall down, you let a person in, and you lose them.

"I can fear all of that and it's okay," she told herself.

The chain slipped through her fingers and into the trash can. As it hit the bottom with a tiny clink her phone buzzed in the other room. It was Elliot's ringtone. She turned off the music, looked at the chain, and then the phone...and then the chain again. The phone, practically yelling at her. She stopped and grabbed the necklace from the trash and placed it toward the back of her nightstand instead. She wasn't ready to let it go. She hadn't fully mastered its meaning.

The phone buzzed a fourth time and she answered it.

"Elliot?"

"Hey…," he replied, taken aback.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. You usually don't answer. I was just going to leave you a quick message."

"You got me right before I turned the light off. You..doing okay?"

"I won't keep you long."

"You seem upset."

"Yeah..ah…I'm fine. Just, I mean you know," he choked back his emotions and took a swig of beer. "I got home thinking Bernie would talk the thoughts right out of my head, but she must have taken a sleeping pill. You ever take sleeping pills?"

"Just my tea," she answered.

"You and that tea. Chamomile. Does it work?"

"Mmm, sometimes. I guess if I fall asleep on you, we'll have our answer."

"Yeah," he answered half listening. His eye fell on a stack of pictures laid out on the coffee table. He picked them up and flipped through them. They were old pictures of him and Olivia at work. One of them at the annual award ceremony. One that was taken by Tamara after Olivia won her first case.

"El, the shooting wasn't your fault," she finally said.

"Ah," he shook his head and tossed the pictures back on the coffee table. "Doesn't make it any easier. I should have known better. He wasn't ready. And I should have never let him on that case. I had that gut feeling and I let it slide because we had to beat the clock."

"Elliot, I know it's not easy to hear, but he was the safest choice."

"I'm just so…tired.."

"-of losing people," she finished.

"Yeah."

"Me too," she muttered.

"How is Rollins?"

Olivia sighed and lay back in her bed thinking about Rollins and Sonny and how hard the day was for them. "She was awake and out of surgery. We can only hope for the best."

They sat in their silence for a moment.

"Thank you…" Elliot spoke. "I'm glad you're still in my life, Olivia. I need you to know that."

"I value our friendship too," she smiled.

Elliot cracked a half smile and sat back up from his recliner to pick up his favorite picture of he and Olivia.

"I dug up some old pictures of the OG squad awhile back. I'm going to frame this one pic of us if that's okay. Don't worry our hair is good," he smiled and the warmth of it came through his voice and made Olivia soften with it.

"Yeah," She softly muttered. "You can..you should, do that. As long as you don't, you know, hang it somewhere weird like on your office wall or over a toilet."

Elliot let out a big guttural laugh. "You're lucky I don't have an office wall….Captain. Maybe I'll hang you in my car, dangling from the mirror."

"That's a hard nope."

He laughed and she followed suit. "Well…I'll figure it out."

"Thanks for calling me tonight. I really needed it," she yawned.

"The tea works," he whispered.

"It does," she whispered back.

"I'll let you go."

"Good night, my friend," she gave him that playful tone with a hint of flirt behind it and he immediately felt like he could close his eyes and go to sleep.

"Good night, my Olivia." he replied softly.

Olivia put the phone down, turned off her light, and thought about the good things she held near and dear to her heart that were worth overcoming fear for.

Her eyes closed and the phone rang again.

"You can't put it on your night stand either. That is also weird," she said without looking at the phone.

"Bell just called me. Nicole Merrick and her aunt were murdered this evening."

"What?"