Disclaimer: A little refresher, I don't own them. I wish I did but hey, everyone wants something they can't have!! Also I blame my muse for everything. The creative liberties and all. Oh, and if you want to bash the pairing or femslash in general, please don't do it here. I've had enough of that crap to last a lifetime and I'm barely legal.

A/N: Wow, this is dark. I apologize now for people wanting to cut themselves after reading it! I'm trying succeeding? to get into Alex's mind figuratively and literally and fish out those deep emotions she so obviously has, but keeps under wraps. So here we go!! I promise the next chapter will not be so dark but it's about 2am and I've been listening to the moonlight sonata on repeat since I started this… oh, Beethoven how depressing you are…

A/N 2: thanks to everyone who reviewed and favorite/alerted this and my other story… I get all of those via email and boy did I have a lot!! So I appreciate it. And anyone else who wants to comment, feel free!

Peac3&Lov3 --katie

The sky is dark. Black almost, but the stars are a brilliant, bright white. The sensation I'm feeling can only be described as floating. My body feels weightless and it's discomforting really, because if I closed my eyes I wouldn't know if I had a body at all. I'd just be this head, floating around in open space. Nevertheless I do have a body, and even though some parts of it hurt more than usual, it's still there. What happened earlier comes barreling back into my conscious thought and it makes my head ache. I remember coming out of the bar. A little buzzed, I hate to admit, and very disheartened. My mind starts to tread down the path we got to talking about earlier, and I quickly refocus myself to continue the course I've been treading, and re-treading for hours. The fall air was very nice, a good change of pace to the heat wave that hit the city earlier so I just threw my jacket over my shoulder instead of putting it back on. I remember Olivia purposefully walking in front of me, and me being slightly confused, but brushing it off all in the same thought. I remember her looking back at me and giving me her cute little half-smirk which, I've always just wanted to wipe off with a huge kiss. Somehow I don't, and before I can really smile back, her face contorts into panic, confusion, and surprisingly compassion. I mean I know we were friends and all, but this look was a whole different ballpark altogether. I also remember the bullet. The feeling of that little piece of pointed metal ripping through my skin and muscle, tearing all of the hard work I'd put into having strong shoulders to pieces in an instant. It hurt like all hell. It all went very fast but once I hit the ground, my shoulder was burning like someone shoved a torch through it. Olivia was there in an instant, like any good cop, and if I weren't already dazed from the sheer force of that little piece of shit ripping through me, the worry in her eyes would have sure done me in. Of course all of my powers of observation went to shit as soon as I felt her pushing down on my wound. God did that hurt. I vaguely remember hearing some shots and some awful crunching sound but I wasn't trying to pay attention to that. I was trying to listen to what Olivia was saying, for some reason however, there was a loud rushing sound in my ears, my vision was starting to fuzz, and of course I remember thinking...



Well shit, I think this is it. I spend three-plus years at SVU, no political career I promised my grandmother I'd have, no husband and two point five kids to make mommy and daddy proud, not even a damn cat to miss me when they're washing my blood from the sidewalk and clearing out my no- so-homey-home.

To put it bluntly, there I was, thinking I was spending my last moments on a dirty sidewalk outside a bar, and I'd accomplished nothing in my life. Sure I had a great educational record, but I hadn't LIVED. Hadn't done anything I actually wanted for myself. Closest I came was the tattoo on my shoulder that stupid bullet probably just ripped through, my one measly act of teenage rebellion.

When I finally did completely lose it, all I had to do was look up into teary, rich, chocolate brown eyes, and I knew that none of that really mattered now. I didn't really care that by becoming a criminal lawyer for the state, I'd essentially snubbed half of my family, and by getting shot, here, on this disgusting sidewalk, I'd slighted the other half, no! All I could think about was how I'd so fucked up in letting this amazing catch of a woman go, and how incomplete my life really was. And when I finally slipped into my own conscious all I could do was cry. It's a moderately funny, soul shattering mental image if you dare think about it. The hard-nosed District Attorney Alexandra Cabot was floating in her own mind crying her eyes out. Quite an image.

Ah, but we don't want to think about that. The logical part of my mind has been running through what happened exactly for as long as I've been out, most of the time in slow motion, and frankly I'm sick of it. The right brained side of me is floating here, aimlessly in the stars, wondering if I'll ever come out of this rut I'm stuck in. Wondering if the doctors stitched me up well enough that I should be waking up and going home soon, or if I'm doomed to roam the stars forever. And also wondering when the stars of my mind started to look so much like the face of a female detective I've been trying so hard to avoid. No avoiding her now. Hopefully she'll come to my rescue and save me from the dark place I'm in, and then we can live happily ever after.

Hah.

Or maybe we can just start with coffee. Either way the stars are still shining brightly, she's still watching me from the sky, and I'm still floating here, willing my mind to release me.