Media Darling

Alexandra Cabot was a woman of reason, logic, and composure. These were principles she held dear-- things she prided herself on. She didn't want it to be any other way. She loved the fact that people heard her name and felt fear when they knew they would have to face off against her. She wanted to have that edge. She wanted to be a competitor and an intimidating opponent. She had a brain and she wasn't afraid to use it. She could talk her way out of most situations, and she could rationalize nearly anything.

This, she could not rationalize.

How could this have happened? How could this be real? She almost let herself believe that it was all a joke—she wanted it desperately to be that way. Maybe Elliot had a sick sense of humor? But she knew it wasn't true. She knew that wasn't possible. She knew that Olivia was really hurt and that she really had to go. She only let herself think for a moment that if Elliot hadn't been there, if he had been severely hurt, she wouldn't have even been told.

Who would have called her? No one knew about them besides him. She would have waited for her to come home, waited for hours, maybe days and it may have been precious time that Olivia had needed her that she hadn't been there.

Elliot sent a patrol car to come get her; he refused to let her drive. She was grateful for that; she didn't think she could have even if she wanted to. She actually felt bad for the poor kid who had come to pick her up. She couldn't explain it to him why she was acting like a crazy person. She couldn't explain it to herself. Nothing focused the love that she felt for Olivia like the thought of her not being there. She looked in the rear view mirror of the car and saw his young face riddled with confusion. Maybe she was just getting older, but the new patrol officer couldn't have been more than 22. He couldn't possibly understand what it was like to feel like your life was ending when it had only just begun.

While Alex would have loved to believe she was able to keep it together, she knew she was falling apart. Her breath was coming in gasps and more than once the kid asked if she was okay. She tried hard to be rational. She tried to keep the tears to herself, but they flowed out of her eyes against her will. Elliot's voice resonated in her head, "She needs you now."

She wished that she knew more. She wished that Elliot had told her more. She wished Elliot had told her less.

The entrance doors to the ER were blocked with flashing lights. Black and white's, unmarked cars, and even members of the press were haphazardly parked in front of the entrance, while the hospital security guard stood irritated in the middle, trying to sort of owners and make some kind of semblance of order. It happens anytime an officer has been injured…or has died, Alex thought. Had things changed? Alex felt her throat go dry.

She didn't think there was enough air in the world to fill her lungs and she started to feel lightheaded. Her pulse started to pound in her throat, the intense fear flooding through her body.

"She needs you now."

She pushed the fear from her mind.

"She needs you now."

Unsteadily, she pulled herself from the car before the kid could even officially park it. Instead, he came to a quick stop.

"Miss Cabot," he called after her, struggling to put the car into park quick enough to catch up with her. "I'm supposed to be with you," He yelled.

Alex couldn't hear anything but her own heart beat in her ears. She rushed towards the main ER doors and through the focus of activity. Fighting the crowd she pulled herself against the main desk and breathed, "Olivia Benson," to the nurse behind the counter. "Can you tell me where she is?"

"Press?" She asked and Alex looked at her blankly. For a moment she thought it was a trick question, but from the serious look the nurses face, she could tell the woman definitely expected an answer.

"What?"

"Are you with the press?" She asked again, patiently.

"No," Alex said, slowly. Why would she even…?

Only then did Alex look behind her. The front lobby of the ER was set up with camera crews, photographers, and local reporters. It was a zoo of people she absolutely did not want to see. She quickly turned herself back around to try to explain when she heard it.

"Alexandra Cabot?" Someone said her name again and then her position. A whisper flew through the room. She knew the voice and she recognized one of the cameramen as a regular reporter from the court house. "Is this an SVU detective?" he screamed at her. She swallowed hard, suddenly incredibly conscious of the fact that she was still wearing her pajamas.

Alex stared at him her face paling. She had nothing to say. She had a swirling mass of feelings that she hadn't even begun to unwind, let alone share with these people. "Miss Cabot, can you comment on the detective's injuries?"

"Uh," She said, before another question was hurled at her.

"Miss Cabot, can you verify that the officer is in critical condition at this time?" God, which one, she wondered.

"Miss Cabot, is it true that the subject of the investigation was not apprehended? If the officer dies, will you be adding murder to the charges?" Was there really a chance of that happening? Horrible images danced through her head.

"Is it true that you were friends with the detective injured?" Someone asked. You could say that, she thought, swallowing deeply.

Alex stared at them wide eyed. How did they know so much when she knew so little?

She didn't care to be ADA Cabot right now. Right now, she was just Alex Cabot. And she was terrified because the love of her life needed her and she wasn't there for her. She was scared because she didn't know what was wrong or how bad. She was scared because Elliot was so vague and no one would tell her anything.

"What interest does the DA's office have in this officer's injuries?" a reporter yelled loudly, a question that echoed through her mind. Her face went blank—her mind went blank.

"No comment," she managed to say, hearing questions fire at her. She turned her back and looked over the counter at the nurse. "Please." She whispered. Behind her, she could hear her 22 year old savior pushing in behind her shoving the press back.

To Be Continued...