Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own this show. I also don't own Third Watch, so
I apologize for stealing one of their lines.
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3:15 PM
Manhattan SVU
John
"So Vanessa's upset because her boyfriend comes home drunk again," Olivia says. I listen in from the next desk as she sums up the details of her latest rape case. "She goes over to his best friend's house to cry on his shoulder and the best friend takes advantage of her. She doesn't resist because she's mad at Michael and looking for revenge, but the next day she realizes what she's done and cries rape? That leaves us with no case."
Elliot shakes his head. "Maybe he didn't rape her, Liv, but the guy's still a class-A jerk. Taking advantage of your best friend's girl while she's crying over him? That's cold."
"He may be a class-A jerk, but there's no class-A felony involved," Cragen informs them. "This is a case for Springer, not SVU. Move on. The Branaugh case is practically begging for the two of you to take a crack at it."
They both nod, Olivia reaching for the file as Elliot grabs his notepad. I turn back to my desk, feeling ill. Todd McKenna and I certainly aren't friends and I didn't seduce Alex last night, but I did kiss her, and in my opinion that ranks me right up there with the 'best friend'. What was I thinking, taking advantage of her like that? How did I become a lowlife scumball without even noticing?
"I can practically hear the gears turning in your head," my partner observes, looking up from his paperwork. "What are you thinking?"
"That there's some serious synagogue time in my future," I reply, morose.
Fin gives me an intrigued look, but my expression must be enough to make him remember what the better part of valor is, because he merely shrugs and returns to work. Not even fifteen seconds after his attention returns to his reports, my phone rings.
"Detective Munch," I snap into the receiver.
"Hey, it's Dan Bromley, Homicide. You're with Special Victims, right?"
I roll my eyes. Bromley's a decent enough guy, but I can only handle him in small doses. He's way too eager to please for my tastes. "Right. Is there something I can do for you, or were you just checking to make sure your departmental roster is up to date?"
"I've got an individual involved in an assault who wants to talk to you. Asked for you by name, in fact. 'Detective Munch, Special Victims Unit'. That's what she said."
"Assault?" I ask, tapping my pen on my desk. "What, is homicide slow today or something?"
I can almost hear him shrug. "I was already down at Bellevue on business. I figured I'd give the uniforms a hand while I was here."
I try my best to quell the urge to do bodily harm to Bromley just for being so damn nice. "How very sporting of you. Does this individual have a name?"
"Cabot," he replies, and I feel my heart jump into my throat. "Alexandra Cabot. The fight was apparently between her and a Todd McKenna. Her name sounds kind of familiar, actually, but I can't remember why."
I curse colorfully, drawing Fin's interested attention. "Look, tell her I'll be there in ten minutes and stay with her until I show up, all right? I mean it. Stick with her and don't let anyone in until I get there."
"Sure thing," he replies, sounding curious but agreeable. My feelings about the brownnosing detective do a one-eighty as I'm flooded with relief at the knowledge that Alex will have someone to look after her until I can get to the hospital.
"Ten minutes," I promise again, and hang up the phone. Grabbing my jacket, I spring out of my chair, Fin hot on my heels as we make for the parking lot.
"It's Alex," I tell him grimly as we jog down the hall. "Dan Bromley called from Bellevue."
Fin chokes, nearly tripping over his own two feet. "Alex is dead?"
I freeze for an instant before I realize where he got the idea. "No, Bromley's just being his helpful self again, taking time off of homicide to work an assault case with some uniforms. Apparently Alex was involved in an altercation with Todd McKenna."
"The hotshot defense lawyer?" Fin asks as we reach the parking garage. I dig through my pockets for the keys, barely holding back an expletive when my partner produces them from his coat and hands them to me with a smirk. "Did a case come to blows in the courtroom or something?"
I don't say anything. I promised Alex I wouldn't. Instead, I grit my teeth and concentrate on seeing how many traffic laws I can break between here and Bellevue.
-----------------------
3:24 PM
Bellevue Hospital ER
John
Alex and Bromley both look up as I sprint into the room, my partner trailing after me. Bromley's leaning against the wall, half-watching the news on the ceiling-mounted TV with the sound turned off. Alex is sitting up in the bed, outfitted in one of the hospital-issue patient gowns, with a vivid purple bruise on her forehead and her left arm cradled in a sling against her chest. For a moment I can't decide whether I should go to Alex or hunt down McKenna, but she makes the decision for me when she sniffles. She's obviously seconds away from a teary breakdown.
I go over and sit on the edge of the bed, reassuring myself that I can always kill McKenna after I'm sure Alex is all right. At the edge of my vision, I can see Fin and Bromley leaving the room. My partner's never been good at dealing with hysterical women, a deficit that he's made abundantly clear to me and the rest of our unit. Right now it suits me just fine; I need to be here for Alex. My partner can keep Bromley occupied.
She tries to sit up straighter as I perch next to her on the bed, but I can tell that even that small movement hurts her. Her smile is strained and awkward, and I want nothing more than to hold her and tell her everything's going to be okay.
"Oh, Alex," I whisper, throwing protocol out the window and wrapping my arms around her. She collapses into my embrace, sobbing. I stroke her hair in a repetitive motion, murmuring anything soothing I can think of and praying she'll calm down enough to tell me what went down between her and McKenna before Fin comes back.
After a few minutes that feel like an eternity, her tears taper off, leaving her red-eyed and half-asleep in my lap. "You want to tell me what happened?" I ask softly, still stroking her hair. She looks up at me and I'm relieved at what I see in her expression. I can tell she's still upset, but I can also see a little of her usual perspicuity.
"When you dropped me off this morning I went to work like usual," she mumbles, so quietly that I have to lean in to hear her. "I was leaving the courthouse for lunch when he showed up on the front steps. He scared me half to death. He started apologizing for last night, saying how sorry he was and how he'd never do it again. Typical domestic abuser garbage." She gives a self-deprecating laugh. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to date him."
"Don't forget that you were smart enough to break it off the first time he hit you," I remind her, praying that last night really was the first time he ever hit her. "And you didn't fall for his line today."
She sighs wordlessly. "Anyway, I told him to get lost. Repeatedly. He kept apologizing, but when I told him I'd get a restraining order if I had to, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward. He said that he wasn't going to 'put up with that crap from any bitch'. I realized I was in over my head and I tried to pull away. That's when he slapped me, but he didn't let go of me. I tried to pull away again and he twisted my arm. I was afraid he was going to break it, so I stepped back but he just twisted it harder. I felt something pop in my wrist. I finally managed to jerk my arm away from him, and I pushed him away as hard as I could.
"All I could think about was getting away from him. I...he tripped, fell down the stairs. I didn't see him land; I fell the other way. I tried to get up but I leaned on my arm accidentally. It hurt so much I almost passed out." She sniffles again and I tighten my grasp on her, hoping she's not going to break down again. She recovers herself after a moment and continues, much to my relief. "Casey Novak showed up then. I told her that I had to get out of there, but she just sat down next to me and said I should stay still until the paramedics showed up. I looked over to see if he was coming at me again, but he was still lying on the stairs. Casey said she saw him hit his head..."
"Hey, it's okay now," I promise her, kissing her forehead lightly. "He's not going to get close enough to hurt you again, and if anything happened to him, it was self-defense. Novak can vouch for you."
Alex shakes her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She came outside just in time to see me push him. She didn't see the rest of it."
"Then there are other witnesses," I tell her firmly. "There are always at least two dozen people on the steps of the courthouse at lunchtime."
"Yeah, and some of them have video cameras." That's Fin, standing in the doorway. I didn't even hear him open the door. Alex, flinching closer to me at the unexpected interruption, obviously didn't either.
"Somebody has it on tape?" I ask, taking Alex's good hand and squeezing it reassuringly.
"Guy named Matt Dougan. He's the sheriff of Ainsley, Texas, population three thousand and two. He went down to the station right after it happened and talked to Cragen. Says he and his wife were touring the city for the first time, taking video of all the sights, and they wanted footage of the courthouse 'cause their son just got a job there working as a court clerk."
"Brian Dougan?" Alex guesses. Fin nods. "I met him last week," she explains. "He mentioned his parents were coming into town. He seemed like a nice kid."
"Nice parents, too," Fin replies. "They offered to donate the tape, the camera, and anything else we wanted into evidence, and they said if we want their testimony we've got it." Fin winks at Alex. "I guess you made a good impression on the son."
We both look knowingly at Alex, who's blushing at the implication that the Dougan kid has a crush on her. Occupied with our conversation, none of us see the new arrivals until Elliot knocks on the doorframe. He's standing just inside the door with Olivia in front of him, taking in the scene.
"We heard there was trouble," he says, glancing from Alex to me and back.
"Alex, are you all right?" Olivia asks, ignoring the rest of us and making a beeline for our ADA. I can tell Alex is trying not to start crying again as Olivia sits down next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Alex rests her head on the other woman's shoulder, closing her eyes as silent tears slip down her cheeks. Olivia brushes them away gently, looking over at me with a mix of curiosity and anger. I can understand her fury; none of us have ever seen Alex this low before. I shake my head, letting her know that I can't tell her anything. Alex is going to have to do that herself.
Sighing, Olivia merely sits there and lets Alex cry herself out, murmuring soft encouragement and knowing there isn't anything else she can do. I keep my grip on Alex's hand but return my attention to the two other people in the room. They're speaking quietly, but I can hear them if I listen closely.
"Novak called Cragen," Elliot is explaining to Fin. "We got here as fast as we could. What's the prognosis?"
Fin sighs. "He broke her wrist and tore something in her elbow. Doc says she's not gonna be using that arm for six to eight weeks."
"Son of a bitch," Elliot says flatly. "Do we know why he did it?"
"I haven't asked yet," Fin replies. "John might know."
"It was my fault," Alex says, obviously overhearing their conversation. She pulls away from Olivia to sit up on her own.
"Alex, it was not your fault," I tell her firmly, catching her gaze and holding it. "None of this is your fault. You hear me?"
"If I'd reported it the first time, this wouldn't have happened."
"Maybe not," I retort. "Maybe you were right and the charges would have been dismissed for lack of evidence, and he would've been free to go after you again. This time we've got him."
"Alex, what 'first time'?" Olivia asks, touching her shoulder lightly to get her attention. "Has he hit you before?"
She tries to take a deep breath, but it turns into a sob. "Yesterday," she admits, dropping her gaze to the floor. "We've been – dating, for a few months. Yesterday he pushed me into a door. It wasn't anything like this, though." She rubs her eyes tiredly. "I should have reported it. I was so stupid."
"No," I say sharply. All the heads in the room swing around to look at me, including Alex's. "Alex, you made a smart move last night. You did the right thing."
She looks up at me with wounded blue eyes, and I swear I'd kill or die to make her happy again.
"John, you were right. I should have reported it. This is my fault."
I release her hand and lean toward her, pulling her into my embrace. She comes willingly, resting her forehead on my chest as her good arm wraps around me in a tight hug.
"If that's true, Alex, I'm as guilty as you are."
She shakes her head, loosening her grip on me. "No, I made you promise –"
"Wait." Elliot sounds angry. "You knew about this, John?"
I stiffen, feeling Alex flinch. The last thing she needs right now is for one of us to get mad, and as a SVU detective, Elliot should know better. If I don't get to be pissed off about this, neither does he.
"Yeah, I did. You think you could tone it down a little?"
"No," he fires back harshly. "You knew this guy was after Alex and you didn't do anything about it? How could you let this happen?"
"Don't," Alex pleads, perilously close to tears for the third time in fifteen minutes. "Please don't blame John."
Elliot's preparing to give me what-for despite Alex's protests when Olivia springs up, grabbing her partner's arm and dragging him toward the other side of the room.
"Tap your helmet, Stabler," she snarls, releasing him once she's shoved him out the door. "What the hell are you thinking?"
We can't hear his response, but the sounds of their argument are faintly audible. Fin turns to the two of us, Alex still clinging to me for dear life, and shrugs.
"Guy's been wound a little tight lately," he confides to Alex, sitting down in the visitor's chair and leaning back, the picture of nonchalant relaxation. Alex starts to relax in an unconscious response to his body language. At least one of us is using our Special Victims training. "You know, with his wife splitting on him and everything. We've got to cut him some slack."
Alex's jaw drops. "I had no idea," she says, glancing over at me before returning her full attention to Fin. "She walked out?"
"Ran off, actually," I inform her. "With the kids' math tutor."
"Ouch," she mutters. "Well, maybe now he and Olivia can finally get it together." Fin and I exchange disbelieving looks and Alex rolls her eyes. "Oh, right, like the two of you didn't see it coming."
"That's not it," Fin says. "When John heard about it, he said the exact same thing."
I look down at Alex, who's smiling faintly. "You know what they say about great minds," I reply, with just the right amount of exaggerated arrogance to earn me a laugh from the woman in my arms.
"They think a lot?" she guesses. Fin snorts.
"Yeah, that must be it," he says, his tone indicating the opposite. "Alex, are you pressing charges against McKenna?"
The question comes out of left field, forcing Alex to respond without having time to agonize over it. Score another one for my partner, who's handling this better than the rest of us combined.
"Yeah," she replies, toying with the strap of the sling. "Yeah, of course."
He shrugs, still looking unconcerned by the whole thing. "We should probably get your statement taken care of, then. We've got four currently unoccupied detectives running around the building. Any preference?"
A smile creeps onto her face. "Anybody but Stabler. I vote we leave him to his nervous breakdown."
"Second," I chime in. Fin winks at me.
"John, why don't you go see if Stabler has killed Benson yet? Alex and I will take care of business in here."
"Sounds good," I reply, realizing that my partner knows I'm emotionally involved with this situation. If we're going to get a good, impartial statement, I can't be the one taking it.
I give Alex's hand one last squeeze and head for the door, watching out of the corner of my eye as Fin produces a notebook from his pocket. Once I'm outside the room and out of their line of sight, I lean back against the wall, trying to come to terms with my rage over what happened to Alex. I'm furious with myself for not keeping an eye on her today, and I'd really like five minutes alone in a room with McKenna. I've been standing there for at least fifteen minutes, beating myself up for letting this happen, when Stabler and Benson show up.
"So, did you take a cold shower?"
"I'm sorry, John," Elliot replies, looking properly contrite. "I shouldn't have gone off like that. It was inappropriate."
"I guess we'll keep you anyway," I tell him. It's as much of an apology as I'm going to give him, and he realizes that and accepts it for what it is.
"We checked on McKenna," Olivia says. I glance over at her.
"And?"
"And he's in a coma," Elliot informs me. "Apparently he took a blow to the head."
"Alex said Novak saw him hit his head on the courthouse steps."
"That'd do it," Olivia agrees. "Docs think he'll probably come out of it, but it won't be today. We've got the uniforms who picked up the case hanging out in the ICU, waiting for him to come around so they can arrest him."
"She is pressing charges, right?" Elliot asks quietly, obviously not wanting to push the issue with me after our earlier tête-à-tête.
"Fin's taking her statement now," I reply. "I followed your example and decided to take a walk."
"You know you can't blame yourself, John," Olivia says, sounding tired. "You had no idea he would try anything with her again, or that the level of violence would escalate so fast."
"Maybe," I mutter. "I still feel responsible."
"News flash, John," says Elliot, clapping me on the shoulder. "So do the rest of us. We all love Alex. The fact that something like this happened to her on our collective watch is hitting us all pretty hard."
"She's going to need us to back her up for a while," Olivia adds, giving her partner a firm look. "We're going to have to put aside our personal feelings about this and just be there for her."
"I read you," Stabler tells her grudgingly. I nod as well; she's right. Alex has to be our first priority.
Fin comes out of Alex's room, closing the door behind him. "She's getting dressed," he explains, answering our collective unasked question. "I'm finished with her statement. She's doing all right."
"Good," Elliot sighs. "I could take her home –"
"I'll do it," I interject. Elliot and Olivia trade glances, his inquisitive, hers quelling, and finally he shrugs.
"Tell her to call if she needs anything?"
"That goes double for me," Olivia puts in.
I nod at both of them and they head for the exit. Fin and I look at each other for a moment, and then he straightens up.
"You know, John, I think I'll catch a ride back to the station with those two. You just worry about getting Alex home in one piece."
"Thanks, Fin," I say, but he waves me off.
"I'll call you if I hear anything more about McKenna," he replies, and takes off after Olivia and Elliot. I wait a few moments and then knock on the door to Alex's room.
"Come in," she calls. I walk in to find her fumbling with the top button on her shirt, trying to fasten it with only one hand. I contemplate going over and helping her, but decide that she needs the chance to prove she's still able to function independently. If she wants help, she'll ask. She gets the button taken care of a second later and glances up at me.
"Now what?" she asks.
"Now we get out of here," I reply. "My place or yours tonight?"
"You don't have to-"
"I know. But if I'm not with you, I'm going to spend the whole night worrying about you."
She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Your place," she says finally. I don't ask for an explanation of her choice. I merely pick up her winter coat, waiting for her nod of acquiescence before helping her slide her good arm into the sleeve and resting the other side of the coat on her shoulder. After I've finished buttoning it up, I reach for her scarf and hand it to her. She wraps it securely around her neck, smiling ruefully.
"I know it's not even December yet, but I hate the cold," she admits. I chuckle.
"And you live in New York why?" I ask teasingly. She shrugs.
"The ambiance," she offers, with a lopsided smile. "And the people."
I wink at her, holding the door as we head for the admitting desk to sign her out so that I can take her home.
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3:15 PM
Manhattan SVU
John
"So Vanessa's upset because her boyfriend comes home drunk again," Olivia says. I listen in from the next desk as she sums up the details of her latest rape case. "She goes over to his best friend's house to cry on his shoulder and the best friend takes advantage of her. She doesn't resist because she's mad at Michael and looking for revenge, but the next day she realizes what she's done and cries rape? That leaves us with no case."
Elliot shakes his head. "Maybe he didn't rape her, Liv, but the guy's still a class-A jerk. Taking advantage of your best friend's girl while she's crying over him? That's cold."
"He may be a class-A jerk, but there's no class-A felony involved," Cragen informs them. "This is a case for Springer, not SVU. Move on. The Branaugh case is practically begging for the two of you to take a crack at it."
They both nod, Olivia reaching for the file as Elliot grabs his notepad. I turn back to my desk, feeling ill. Todd McKenna and I certainly aren't friends and I didn't seduce Alex last night, but I did kiss her, and in my opinion that ranks me right up there with the 'best friend'. What was I thinking, taking advantage of her like that? How did I become a lowlife scumball without even noticing?
"I can practically hear the gears turning in your head," my partner observes, looking up from his paperwork. "What are you thinking?"
"That there's some serious synagogue time in my future," I reply, morose.
Fin gives me an intrigued look, but my expression must be enough to make him remember what the better part of valor is, because he merely shrugs and returns to work. Not even fifteen seconds after his attention returns to his reports, my phone rings.
"Detective Munch," I snap into the receiver.
"Hey, it's Dan Bromley, Homicide. You're with Special Victims, right?"
I roll my eyes. Bromley's a decent enough guy, but I can only handle him in small doses. He's way too eager to please for my tastes. "Right. Is there something I can do for you, or were you just checking to make sure your departmental roster is up to date?"
"I've got an individual involved in an assault who wants to talk to you. Asked for you by name, in fact. 'Detective Munch, Special Victims Unit'. That's what she said."
"Assault?" I ask, tapping my pen on my desk. "What, is homicide slow today or something?"
I can almost hear him shrug. "I was already down at Bellevue on business. I figured I'd give the uniforms a hand while I was here."
I try my best to quell the urge to do bodily harm to Bromley just for being so damn nice. "How very sporting of you. Does this individual have a name?"
"Cabot," he replies, and I feel my heart jump into my throat. "Alexandra Cabot. The fight was apparently between her and a Todd McKenna. Her name sounds kind of familiar, actually, but I can't remember why."
I curse colorfully, drawing Fin's interested attention. "Look, tell her I'll be there in ten minutes and stay with her until I show up, all right? I mean it. Stick with her and don't let anyone in until I get there."
"Sure thing," he replies, sounding curious but agreeable. My feelings about the brownnosing detective do a one-eighty as I'm flooded with relief at the knowledge that Alex will have someone to look after her until I can get to the hospital.
"Ten minutes," I promise again, and hang up the phone. Grabbing my jacket, I spring out of my chair, Fin hot on my heels as we make for the parking lot.
"It's Alex," I tell him grimly as we jog down the hall. "Dan Bromley called from Bellevue."
Fin chokes, nearly tripping over his own two feet. "Alex is dead?"
I freeze for an instant before I realize where he got the idea. "No, Bromley's just being his helpful self again, taking time off of homicide to work an assault case with some uniforms. Apparently Alex was involved in an altercation with Todd McKenna."
"The hotshot defense lawyer?" Fin asks as we reach the parking garage. I dig through my pockets for the keys, barely holding back an expletive when my partner produces them from his coat and hands them to me with a smirk. "Did a case come to blows in the courtroom or something?"
I don't say anything. I promised Alex I wouldn't. Instead, I grit my teeth and concentrate on seeing how many traffic laws I can break between here and Bellevue.
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3:24 PM
Bellevue Hospital ER
John
Alex and Bromley both look up as I sprint into the room, my partner trailing after me. Bromley's leaning against the wall, half-watching the news on the ceiling-mounted TV with the sound turned off. Alex is sitting up in the bed, outfitted in one of the hospital-issue patient gowns, with a vivid purple bruise on her forehead and her left arm cradled in a sling against her chest. For a moment I can't decide whether I should go to Alex or hunt down McKenna, but she makes the decision for me when she sniffles. She's obviously seconds away from a teary breakdown.
I go over and sit on the edge of the bed, reassuring myself that I can always kill McKenna after I'm sure Alex is all right. At the edge of my vision, I can see Fin and Bromley leaving the room. My partner's never been good at dealing with hysterical women, a deficit that he's made abundantly clear to me and the rest of our unit. Right now it suits me just fine; I need to be here for Alex. My partner can keep Bromley occupied.
She tries to sit up straighter as I perch next to her on the bed, but I can tell that even that small movement hurts her. Her smile is strained and awkward, and I want nothing more than to hold her and tell her everything's going to be okay.
"Oh, Alex," I whisper, throwing protocol out the window and wrapping my arms around her. She collapses into my embrace, sobbing. I stroke her hair in a repetitive motion, murmuring anything soothing I can think of and praying she'll calm down enough to tell me what went down between her and McKenna before Fin comes back.
After a few minutes that feel like an eternity, her tears taper off, leaving her red-eyed and half-asleep in my lap. "You want to tell me what happened?" I ask softly, still stroking her hair. She looks up at me and I'm relieved at what I see in her expression. I can tell she's still upset, but I can also see a little of her usual perspicuity.
"When you dropped me off this morning I went to work like usual," she mumbles, so quietly that I have to lean in to hear her. "I was leaving the courthouse for lunch when he showed up on the front steps. He scared me half to death. He started apologizing for last night, saying how sorry he was and how he'd never do it again. Typical domestic abuser garbage." She gives a self-deprecating laugh. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to date him."
"Don't forget that you were smart enough to break it off the first time he hit you," I remind her, praying that last night really was the first time he ever hit her. "And you didn't fall for his line today."
She sighs wordlessly. "Anyway, I told him to get lost. Repeatedly. He kept apologizing, but when I told him I'd get a restraining order if I had to, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward. He said that he wasn't going to 'put up with that crap from any bitch'. I realized I was in over my head and I tried to pull away. That's when he slapped me, but he didn't let go of me. I tried to pull away again and he twisted my arm. I was afraid he was going to break it, so I stepped back but he just twisted it harder. I felt something pop in my wrist. I finally managed to jerk my arm away from him, and I pushed him away as hard as I could.
"All I could think about was getting away from him. I...he tripped, fell down the stairs. I didn't see him land; I fell the other way. I tried to get up but I leaned on my arm accidentally. It hurt so much I almost passed out." She sniffles again and I tighten my grasp on her, hoping she's not going to break down again. She recovers herself after a moment and continues, much to my relief. "Casey Novak showed up then. I told her that I had to get out of there, but she just sat down next to me and said I should stay still until the paramedics showed up. I looked over to see if he was coming at me again, but he was still lying on the stairs. Casey said she saw him hit his head..."
"Hey, it's okay now," I promise her, kissing her forehead lightly. "He's not going to get close enough to hurt you again, and if anything happened to him, it was self-defense. Novak can vouch for you."
Alex shakes her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She came outside just in time to see me push him. She didn't see the rest of it."
"Then there are other witnesses," I tell her firmly. "There are always at least two dozen people on the steps of the courthouse at lunchtime."
"Yeah, and some of them have video cameras." That's Fin, standing in the doorway. I didn't even hear him open the door. Alex, flinching closer to me at the unexpected interruption, obviously didn't either.
"Somebody has it on tape?" I ask, taking Alex's good hand and squeezing it reassuringly.
"Guy named Matt Dougan. He's the sheriff of Ainsley, Texas, population three thousand and two. He went down to the station right after it happened and talked to Cragen. Says he and his wife were touring the city for the first time, taking video of all the sights, and they wanted footage of the courthouse 'cause their son just got a job there working as a court clerk."
"Brian Dougan?" Alex guesses. Fin nods. "I met him last week," she explains. "He mentioned his parents were coming into town. He seemed like a nice kid."
"Nice parents, too," Fin replies. "They offered to donate the tape, the camera, and anything else we wanted into evidence, and they said if we want their testimony we've got it." Fin winks at Alex. "I guess you made a good impression on the son."
We both look knowingly at Alex, who's blushing at the implication that the Dougan kid has a crush on her. Occupied with our conversation, none of us see the new arrivals until Elliot knocks on the doorframe. He's standing just inside the door with Olivia in front of him, taking in the scene.
"We heard there was trouble," he says, glancing from Alex to me and back.
"Alex, are you all right?" Olivia asks, ignoring the rest of us and making a beeline for our ADA. I can tell Alex is trying not to start crying again as Olivia sits down next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Alex rests her head on the other woman's shoulder, closing her eyes as silent tears slip down her cheeks. Olivia brushes them away gently, looking over at me with a mix of curiosity and anger. I can understand her fury; none of us have ever seen Alex this low before. I shake my head, letting her know that I can't tell her anything. Alex is going to have to do that herself.
Sighing, Olivia merely sits there and lets Alex cry herself out, murmuring soft encouragement and knowing there isn't anything else she can do. I keep my grip on Alex's hand but return my attention to the two other people in the room. They're speaking quietly, but I can hear them if I listen closely.
"Novak called Cragen," Elliot is explaining to Fin. "We got here as fast as we could. What's the prognosis?"
Fin sighs. "He broke her wrist and tore something in her elbow. Doc says she's not gonna be using that arm for six to eight weeks."
"Son of a bitch," Elliot says flatly. "Do we know why he did it?"
"I haven't asked yet," Fin replies. "John might know."
"It was my fault," Alex says, obviously overhearing their conversation. She pulls away from Olivia to sit up on her own.
"Alex, it was not your fault," I tell her firmly, catching her gaze and holding it. "None of this is your fault. You hear me?"
"If I'd reported it the first time, this wouldn't have happened."
"Maybe not," I retort. "Maybe you were right and the charges would have been dismissed for lack of evidence, and he would've been free to go after you again. This time we've got him."
"Alex, what 'first time'?" Olivia asks, touching her shoulder lightly to get her attention. "Has he hit you before?"
She tries to take a deep breath, but it turns into a sob. "Yesterday," she admits, dropping her gaze to the floor. "We've been – dating, for a few months. Yesterday he pushed me into a door. It wasn't anything like this, though." She rubs her eyes tiredly. "I should have reported it. I was so stupid."
"No," I say sharply. All the heads in the room swing around to look at me, including Alex's. "Alex, you made a smart move last night. You did the right thing."
She looks up at me with wounded blue eyes, and I swear I'd kill or die to make her happy again.
"John, you were right. I should have reported it. This is my fault."
I release her hand and lean toward her, pulling her into my embrace. She comes willingly, resting her forehead on my chest as her good arm wraps around me in a tight hug.
"If that's true, Alex, I'm as guilty as you are."
She shakes her head, loosening her grip on me. "No, I made you promise –"
"Wait." Elliot sounds angry. "You knew about this, John?"
I stiffen, feeling Alex flinch. The last thing she needs right now is for one of us to get mad, and as a SVU detective, Elliot should know better. If I don't get to be pissed off about this, neither does he.
"Yeah, I did. You think you could tone it down a little?"
"No," he fires back harshly. "You knew this guy was after Alex and you didn't do anything about it? How could you let this happen?"
"Don't," Alex pleads, perilously close to tears for the third time in fifteen minutes. "Please don't blame John."
Elliot's preparing to give me what-for despite Alex's protests when Olivia springs up, grabbing her partner's arm and dragging him toward the other side of the room.
"Tap your helmet, Stabler," she snarls, releasing him once she's shoved him out the door. "What the hell are you thinking?"
We can't hear his response, but the sounds of their argument are faintly audible. Fin turns to the two of us, Alex still clinging to me for dear life, and shrugs.
"Guy's been wound a little tight lately," he confides to Alex, sitting down in the visitor's chair and leaning back, the picture of nonchalant relaxation. Alex starts to relax in an unconscious response to his body language. At least one of us is using our Special Victims training. "You know, with his wife splitting on him and everything. We've got to cut him some slack."
Alex's jaw drops. "I had no idea," she says, glancing over at me before returning her full attention to Fin. "She walked out?"
"Ran off, actually," I inform her. "With the kids' math tutor."
"Ouch," she mutters. "Well, maybe now he and Olivia can finally get it together." Fin and I exchange disbelieving looks and Alex rolls her eyes. "Oh, right, like the two of you didn't see it coming."
"That's not it," Fin says. "When John heard about it, he said the exact same thing."
I look down at Alex, who's smiling faintly. "You know what they say about great minds," I reply, with just the right amount of exaggerated arrogance to earn me a laugh from the woman in my arms.
"They think a lot?" she guesses. Fin snorts.
"Yeah, that must be it," he says, his tone indicating the opposite. "Alex, are you pressing charges against McKenna?"
The question comes out of left field, forcing Alex to respond without having time to agonize over it. Score another one for my partner, who's handling this better than the rest of us combined.
"Yeah," she replies, toying with the strap of the sling. "Yeah, of course."
He shrugs, still looking unconcerned by the whole thing. "We should probably get your statement taken care of, then. We've got four currently unoccupied detectives running around the building. Any preference?"
A smile creeps onto her face. "Anybody but Stabler. I vote we leave him to his nervous breakdown."
"Second," I chime in. Fin winks at me.
"John, why don't you go see if Stabler has killed Benson yet? Alex and I will take care of business in here."
"Sounds good," I reply, realizing that my partner knows I'm emotionally involved with this situation. If we're going to get a good, impartial statement, I can't be the one taking it.
I give Alex's hand one last squeeze and head for the door, watching out of the corner of my eye as Fin produces a notebook from his pocket. Once I'm outside the room and out of their line of sight, I lean back against the wall, trying to come to terms with my rage over what happened to Alex. I'm furious with myself for not keeping an eye on her today, and I'd really like five minutes alone in a room with McKenna. I've been standing there for at least fifteen minutes, beating myself up for letting this happen, when Stabler and Benson show up.
"So, did you take a cold shower?"
"I'm sorry, John," Elliot replies, looking properly contrite. "I shouldn't have gone off like that. It was inappropriate."
"I guess we'll keep you anyway," I tell him. It's as much of an apology as I'm going to give him, and he realizes that and accepts it for what it is.
"We checked on McKenna," Olivia says. I glance over at her.
"And?"
"And he's in a coma," Elliot informs me. "Apparently he took a blow to the head."
"Alex said Novak saw him hit his head on the courthouse steps."
"That'd do it," Olivia agrees. "Docs think he'll probably come out of it, but it won't be today. We've got the uniforms who picked up the case hanging out in the ICU, waiting for him to come around so they can arrest him."
"She is pressing charges, right?" Elliot asks quietly, obviously not wanting to push the issue with me after our earlier tête-à-tête.
"Fin's taking her statement now," I reply. "I followed your example and decided to take a walk."
"You know you can't blame yourself, John," Olivia says, sounding tired. "You had no idea he would try anything with her again, or that the level of violence would escalate so fast."
"Maybe," I mutter. "I still feel responsible."
"News flash, John," says Elliot, clapping me on the shoulder. "So do the rest of us. We all love Alex. The fact that something like this happened to her on our collective watch is hitting us all pretty hard."
"She's going to need us to back her up for a while," Olivia adds, giving her partner a firm look. "We're going to have to put aside our personal feelings about this and just be there for her."
"I read you," Stabler tells her grudgingly. I nod as well; she's right. Alex has to be our first priority.
Fin comes out of Alex's room, closing the door behind him. "She's getting dressed," he explains, answering our collective unasked question. "I'm finished with her statement. She's doing all right."
"Good," Elliot sighs. "I could take her home –"
"I'll do it," I interject. Elliot and Olivia trade glances, his inquisitive, hers quelling, and finally he shrugs.
"Tell her to call if she needs anything?"
"That goes double for me," Olivia puts in.
I nod at both of them and they head for the exit. Fin and I look at each other for a moment, and then he straightens up.
"You know, John, I think I'll catch a ride back to the station with those two. You just worry about getting Alex home in one piece."
"Thanks, Fin," I say, but he waves me off.
"I'll call you if I hear anything more about McKenna," he replies, and takes off after Olivia and Elliot. I wait a few moments and then knock on the door to Alex's room.
"Come in," she calls. I walk in to find her fumbling with the top button on her shirt, trying to fasten it with only one hand. I contemplate going over and helping her, but decide that she needs the chance to prove she's still able to function independently. If she wants help, she'll ask. She gets the button taken care of a second later and glances up at me.
"Now what?" she asks.
"Now we get out of here," I reply. "My place or yours tonight?"
"You don't have to-"
"I know. But if I'm not with you, I'm going to spend the whole night worrying about you."
She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Your place," she says finally. I don't ask for an explanation of her choice. I merely pick up her winter coat, waiting for her nod of acquiescence before helping her slide her good arm into the sleeve and resting the other side of the coat on her shoulder. After I've finished buttoning it up, I reach for her scarf and hand it to her. She wraps it securely around her neck, smiling ruefully.
"I know it's not even December yet, but I hate the cold," she admits. I chuckle.
"And you live in New York why?" I ask teasingly. She shrugs.
"The ambiance," she offers, with a lopsided smile. "And the people."
I wink at her, holding the door as we head for the admitting desk to sign her out so that I can take her home.