A/N: So, I'm pretty sure you all either: a) hate me, or b) have completely forgotten this fic and have only returned because you got a little notifier in your inbox or something. And for that, I sincerely apologize. I didn't realize it had been over a year since I posted the first chapter of this fic until about two days ago, so I got to work continuing. As always, feedback and constructive criticizm are always appreciated.
Lights flashed red and blue from atop a police cruiser as it pulled up to join the three other squad cars at the block-long crime scene. Alex sat wrapped in a blanket on a gurney in the back of an ambulance. She watched silently as everything seemed to crumble around her. There were people everywhere; Alex's cheeks burned with embarrassment every time someone looked at her.
"She's a big girl, she doesn't need a ride-along. You can meet us in the ER at St. Vincent's." Alex only caught the tail end of Detective Benson's argument with the paramedic. She pulled the blanket tighter as the overweight man hoisted himself into the back of the ambulance. Her eyes met with Olivia's for a split second before the doors swung shut and the ambulance was in motion. Alex craned her neck to see out the back windows, only to be blinded by headlights as they turned onto another road.
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Detective Olivia Benson dragged her palms over her eyes and down her cheeks as she watched the ambulance drive away. She crossed the street, stepping over a police barricade, and yelled for her partner, Detective Elliot Stabler. "Hey, El, I'm meeting the vi--Cabot at St. Vincent's. Did you get a statement from the register girl?" Elliot nodded briefly before turning his attention back to the cup of coffee he'd been nursing for the past half hour. He watched as lights flicked off in the windows of the surrounding buildings. For those people, the night was ending. For everyone on the street below, it had only just begun.
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"Is there anyone we can call?" The nurse's tone was sickeningly sweet, and combined with the pitying look in her eyes it was enough to make Alex want to vomit.
"No," Alex barked, "there isn't. In fact, I'd appreciate it if you'd just get a doctor in here, get the rape kit started, and leave me alone." The nurse's face immediately hardened, and she nearly collided with an older man in a white lab coat who was coming through the door.
"I'd prefer a female doctor," Alex said calmly as she shifted uncomfortably on the table.
"Ms…" the doctor glanced down at the chart in his hand, "…Cabot, I assure you, I've done this before. You can trust me."
The scared, introverted woman in the exam room was suddenly replaced with a livid, seething creature. "I can 'trust you?!' You've 'done this before?!' That is NOT the issue here. I don't care if you do a rape kit twice a day, every day; I am NOT comfortable with you doing mine. Find me a FEMALE doctor, and expect your superiors to hear about this." Alex lay back on the table and crossed her arms awkwardly. She felt uncomfortable, exposed, and wanted nothing more than to rewind her life and reject the invitation to Langan's party, that bastard.
"Legally, you can't do a rape kit without the consent of the patient or, if necessary, her legal guardian. Since you don't have her consent, I suggest you step outside, doctor." Olivia's voice was stone cold, and everyone paid it attention. The doctor turned to her and sneered.
"And who are you?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Detective Olivia Benson, Manhattan SVU. Now, doctor, I'm going to ask you again to step outside and find Ms. Cabot a female doctor." The doctor, realizing that he had lost, left the room, muttering under his breath every step of the way.
"Thank you, Detective," Alex sighed as stared at her bloodied palms.
"Olivia, please."
"Olivia." Alex mustered up a small smile for the woman who had essentially rescued her.
"If you'd like, I can take—" Olivia was interrupted by Alex, who already knew what was coming.
"Please, Olivia," Alex looked up as she pronounced the name, "can we take this one step at a time? I promise to cooperate later. You have my word." Olivia couldn't respond. She didn't know what to say. Normally victims were in so much shock that they could barely remember their own names, let alone the details of their attacks. Alex was so…methodical, procedural about everything that Olivia couldn't help but think it was a result of her profession. Both she and Alex saw this scenario day in and day out, but it was different, very different, when the victim was her coworker, her friend.