Running Away

She didn't know where she was going, it didn't matter anymore. All she was aware of was the tears flying down her cheeks and the feeling that she had to escape. As the cab drove at reckless speeds under her command, she sat in the backseat, tightly curled into a ball, as if to protect her from the onslaught of emotion that was bursting to break free.

Up and down main streets and alleys the cab drove, eventually coming to a stop, she hopped was far enough from the airport and any of the memories that she had left behind. She quickly paid the driver and hurried into the hotel, as if afraid that she stayed too long outside, someone would recognize her. She stopped by the lobby, gave a false name, that she hoped couldn't be traced to her and hurried into the elevator and then her room, where she collapsed on the bed, exhausted.

When she woke up the following morning, she was momentarily disoriented, not recognizing her surroundings. After a few confusing seconds, the events of the previous day caught up with her, and soft tears began to fall down her cheeks. She didn't understand why she was crying, she just knew that this flood of emotion was new and she hated it.

She reflected on when she had first known that she had loved Elliot. It had been in the second year that she had been partnered with Elliot. The convict, a man named Roger Silver, had been holding a gun against his wife, and then made to pull the trigger at her partner. She had shot him, directly in the chest, but had never regretted because she knew that if her partner died, she would not survive.

Now that he had broken her heart, however, she was beginning to doubt that. He didn't need to be dead for him to break her heart. Every time that his wife had shown up at the station, she had been jealous but able to keep it under control. Every time that he had mentioned Kathy, she had felt her heart crack slightly, but it had always mended shortly after when he comforted her, gone out with her, or called her just to check on her safety.

Knowing that the only way she could heal was to reflect on her memories and eventually when she thought about him, she wouldn't be overwhelmed by sadness, despair and heartache.

Flashback Begin

A rape victim had come forward, and after explaining what had happened, had declared that it was her fault.

"It's never your fault," Olivia assured the victim.

"You don't understand. I'm evil. My father raped my mother, I'm the reason she committed suicide. It's my entire fault."

"Trust me, I do understand." Olivia had said quietly, and pulled Elliot aside and requested that he leave her and the victim alone.

"I do understand. I'm also a child of rape. I know what that guilt is like."

'What did you mother say to you?" the girl asked.

"She told me everyday that I was a mistake. That I was no good, that I should have been dead. She drank every night and beat me regularly. Trust me; I know what it is like."

"My mother told me everyday that I should kill myself to save her the pain. I tried so many times, but it was like there was something stopping me. I wish it would have worked, then I wouldn't be here."

"Don't say that." Olivia said gently, though still stern, "You might think that you're a mistake but you always make a difference in someone's life and without you that difference wouldn't have been made. Out of every bad situation comes something good, so don't dismiss yourself that easily."

"Thank you! You have no idea what a relief it is to talk to someone that knows what I'm going through. Thank you very much, detective."

After they had left the hospital, Olivia had been very quiet. Elliot, ever curious, asked her what she was thinking about.

"My birth," she had answered simply.

"What? It's not like you can remember it, so what good is it thinking about it?" Elliot asked gently.

"Not so much the actual birth, but the nature of my conception." She muttered.

"What do you mean?" Elliot asked, there was something not right about that statement.

"I'm a child of rape. My mother was raped, and I never knew my father." She said quietly, her voice breaking as she shared her painful secret with someone that didn't share her past.

"Oh, I'm sorry Olivia" Elliot said apologetically, though this was apparently not the right thing to say.

"I don't need your pity!" she spat angrily.

"I'm not pitying you." He stated, "I'm just saying that I'm sorry you had to grow up with something that painful buried within you."

"Oh," she whispered. "You know she was right."

"Who was?"

"The victim. We only cause people pain, so why were we even allowed to be born?"

"Don't say that. Don't you dare say that Olivia." He said hurt and angry, though he didn't understand why "If you weren't born, we wouldn't get these people off the streets. If you weren't born, you wouldn't have been able to help that victim. If you weren't born I would still be fighting with Kathy. If it weren't for you Don would still be an alcoholic," he held up his hand as he saw her open her mouth to interrupt. "and Munch would still be depressed from his divorce. You've helped a lot of people, Liv. It's time you realized that!"

"Thank you." She whispered quietly, her response was soft but the sincerity and force of her statement rebounded deep within him.

Flashback End

She decided that she needed a shower before she reflected upon her next memory. She turned on the water and undressed, but before she could get in she heard a knock on the door, ignoring it, she stepped under the warm spray of the shower. Her body began to prune when she got out, and after drying herself off, she changed back into her clothing, laying on the bed once more. A persistent knocking on the door changed her mind, and she walked over to it. Looking through the peep hole, she gasped as she recognized the person standing on the other side.