First off, the traditional disclaimer. I don't own L&O:SVU. Dick Wolf and NBC do. Secondly, the characters of Alison and Alvis I own. Everyone else is property of Dick Wolf. Although, I wouldn't mind owning Munch. Thricely, this is my first SVU fict. I am trying my best to keep it from being ooc, but if you spot anything ooc, please tell me, and I'll do my darndest to fix it. Thank you!
CT
John woke to the sound of loud banging and loud voices. In his half awake mind, he thought he was still dreaming, but after a moment the voices became clearer.
"You're worth more dead than alive. I should just kill you now!" A male voice cut through the paper thin walls of his apartment.
"DAMMIT! If that's the way you feel, kill me now, you bastard!" a female said.
John sat up with a start. The new couple who moved in last week was at it again, but this was worse than previous times. He heard a loud crash and then…. Silence. Police mode kicking in, he quickly grabbed his robe and his gun to check out the situation. He made it next door double time and pounded on the door three times. "Open up, Police!"
The silence still pervaded the atmosphere, but he could hear the sounds of rustling and threats of "if you say anything, I'll kill you" in the background. He pounded again. "If you don't open on the count of three, I'll kick the door in! One.. Two.." The door opened with the chain still attached. A very flushed man in his mid-30's peeked his head through the crack.
"Yes sir," he said tentatively. He was taken aback by John's wardrobe for a second, but then said, "Is there a problem, officer?"
"Yeah. It sounds like there was a pretty big fight going on in there."
"Oh," the man said, flustered. "My girlfriend and I were watching a movie. We must have had the volume up too high," he said, obviously lying.
"Well, I'd still like to take a look around and see if everything's alright."
The man looked behind him quickly, shooting a warning glare at someone behind him and closed the door. It opened up a few seconds later. "Well, come in," he said nervously. "It's still kind of a mess since we're still moving in."
John looked around, and it was as if a tornado had hit the place. Broken beer bottles were all over the place, couch pillows thrown haphazardly, and in the middle of all of this sat a young female, no more than 20, with a tear stained face and a very visible bruise starting to form on her eye. John's brow furrowed with concern as he asked, "Is everything alright?" The girl looked in fear. The man shot her a look, but she must have reached her breaking point.
"No," she whispered. "Arrest him. This is the third time he's beat me up this week."
"YOU BITCH!" The man reacted with anger and leapt towards the girl, arms outstretched as if to choke her, but John reacted quickly, tackling the man mere inches from the girl.
"You are under arrest for assault and anything else I can think of on the way to the station house. You have the right to remain silent…."
John had called for backup and two uniforms escorted the man, now known as Alvis Winchester, back to the SVU squad. John called in an ambulance for the girl.
"What's your name, sweetheart?"
"A-alison. Alison Jameson," she said, still not looking him in the eyes.
"How long has Alvis been beating you?" She tensed at the question, but something inside of her, an inner strength, gave her the courage to answer.
"Two weeks. He also raped me," she said, her voice barely audible. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes and sobs quickly overtook her body. John touched her hand and she quickly melded into his arms as she began sobbing uncontrollably. "He said he was going to love me forever."
The paramedic then showed up, knocking on the door frame lightly. "Alison, these people are going to take you to the hospital to get you checked out," he said as he felt her whole body tense up.
"I figured. Will you come with me in the ambulance?" she asked, so insecure.
"Sure.
On the way to Columbia-Presbyterian hospital, John called Cragen and explained the situation to him.
"Ok, I'll send Olivia over there."
The ambulance pulled up to the ER, and Alison was wheeled into an open room. A nurse came in. "I'm going to have to do a rape kit. First-"
"You need me to take off my clothes over a paper, bag them separately, and then collect evidence and take pictures." At seeing her taken aback, Alison explained, "Before I moved here, I was a rape counselor. I know the procedures."
Olivia showed up soon after and helped her go through the ordeal. Alison was silent the whole way through until the vaginal exam when she started whimpering.
"Shh. It's ok. It'll be over soon," Olivia said.
"I know. It's just that I feel like I'm reliving the whole trauma again. There should be an easier way."
"I agree."
"You know, I've been where you are too many times to count. But nothing could have ever prepared me for this," she said, soberly. "I thought that I would be ok with a RK if I ever had to go through it, but you just don't know how bad it is until you're the one on the bed being prodded and poked."
Olivia, not knowing what to say, squeezed Alison's hand and rubbed her hair.
The nurse caught Olivia's attention and said, "We're almost done. We just need to get pics now." Olivia grabbed the Polaroid and starting with Alison's face, began taking pictures of the bruises and scrapes all over her body. The nurse left the room to get a pair of scrubs for Alison since her clothes were evidence. She leaned back on the bed closing her eyes.
"What are you thinking, Alison?" Olivia asked.
"I'm too smart to get myself to this. I was a rape crisis counselor for a year, before I moved here, and I should have known that Alvis was what he was. I saw it day in and day out, but I was too blindly in love to see it. Or even want to see it. 'Oh, he'll change' 'He's just stressed right now' DAMMIT, I should have known better."
"I know this doesn't make it any better, but there's a saying. 'Hindsight is 20/20'. Sometimes, something can be right under your nose and because it's too close, you just can't see it clearly."
"I know. I just.. I just wish I'd listened to my parents. 'He's too old'… well, I thought that wouldn't be a problem because my parents are the same age apart as we were. I'm 21, he's 30. He looks older because he's had it rough. But I should have left when he stopped going to meetings and when he started drinking again. I always said that I would," she said, sighing. "I'm tired, and I need to try to sleep," she said, wearily. "Will you stay with me until I go to sleep?" she asked.
"Sure"
