A/N: Told you I was going to update soon :) In return, please actually read this and don't just scroll down!

First things first: Thank you so much for all your reviews, favorites and follows! They mean the world to me, although I have to admit I hadn't really expected this story to have that much of an impact. Although this may sound egocentric, but I started writing this story for me, not for anyone else, hoping it would help me sort through some things. Therefore, seeing everyone so eager for some deep, dark revealations makes me kind of nervous, because I don't want this story to turn into some generic, overly tragic and dramatic worst-case scenario.

As for this story, my intention is to convey deep, authentic emotions and not a "quick fix" of superficial and broad sensationalism. Sometimes things can be pretty bad already without having to be 'the worst thing that could have happened'. And for some wounds, it takes you a while to notice how deep they go and how much they hurt. And then you're torn between actual, terrifying pain and the mean little voice inside your head telling you to just 'pull yourself together and get over it'.

Eventually, this is what this story (really) is about: Being torn - Hence the title, *Shattered*, as in 'feeling like you've been smashed into pieces that you doubt will ever fit together again'. It's about trying to make sense of the fact that you don't seem to be able to keep it in(side) any longer because there's this giant hole that your mind, your sanity, your sense of integrety and safety just seem to be pouring out of and you don't know how to stop it. This story is about learning that being hurt and scared doesn't mean you're weak. That being human comes with being vulnerable sometimes - and that there are people out there that are never going to use that against you - people you can trust. So I guess ultimately, this story is about the surprising, confusing, scary realization that maybe - just maybe - you don't have to pick up the pieces alone if you allow yourself to let someone in...

(wow - this turned out a lot longer than I had expected it to be... Please let me know whether anyone actually read this!)

Chapter 5

They ate in silence, which neither of them seemed to mind. Being busy eyeing the blonde from time to time, it took Olivia longer than usual to finish her meal. Alex, too, seemed to be eating at a much slower pace, and Olivia couldn't help but wonder whether she was doing it on purpose so the 20 minutes she had promised the detective would be consumed by a wordless lunch alone, legitimating kicking Olivia out of her office without actually talking to her – but without breaking her promise either.

When Alex finally stuffed the plastic fork and napkin into the empty to-go container, twenty-two minutes had passed. They both knew the time precisely because their eyes had locked after glancing at the clock on Alex's desk. The blonde looked away, guiltily biting her lip. Olivia took that as a not-so-subtle cue to leave, but she realized she couldn't. Not yet!

"Alex?" The brunette started gently. "You've made it more than clear that you're not ready to talk about it, but there's one... thing I just need to ask you, okay?"

Alex's breath caught and she couldn't help but avoid Olivia's gaze. Shit. She tried to control her breathing, forcing herself to breathe in and out, in and out. Oh god. Oh god. Oh... Granting the blonde a moment to compose herself, Olivia patiently waited, this time knowing better than to touch Alex. Instead, she repeated her friend's name softly, waiting for Alex to bring up the courage to look at her.

"Hey" Olivia said softly, acknowledging the brief eye contact Alex had forced herself to. Olivia felt dumb when she opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again, but she knew she had to phrase her question carefully if she didn't want to scare Alex off. Another moment of suspenseful hesitation had passed. Liv sighed, knowing this wouldn't get any easier.

"I'm not going to ask you what happened" She finally started, "- and as I said: You don't have to tell me. But please..." Olivia sighed. It was part of her job description to ask difficult questions! So why was this so hard for her? The answer was as simple as it was obvious: Because it was Alex. That's why it was so hard. So scary. And so unbelievably necessary for her to ask, even if she was afraid of the answer:

"Are you safe?"

Alex gasped, surprised at her friend's question.
"I don't know" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and despite the confused look on Olivia's face, Alex had to admit to herself that it was true.

Safe how? She sensed that Olivia's question had predominantly aimed into the direction of domestic abuse. And with regards to that, she was safe: Eventually, there was no one waiting for her in her apartment, willing to harm her. At least not physically. And – well. No one else. No one real. But was she safe in her own mind? Safe in her own body? It surely didn't feel like it...

Alex visibly cringed at the memories that were flooding her mind.

Hands on her body.

Emotions twirling around in her mind.

First excitement.

Then doubt.

Then shame.

Utter fear.

And then, suddenly... pain.

Oh god. No. No! No-no-no!

Silent pleas that never left her mind - pleas she had never said out aloud:

I'm sorry, I can't.

Please stop.

I need you to stop.

Please don't!

Stop.

Stop!

STOP!

The impulse to just run and never turn around - to hide in a hole and never ever come out.

A strangled cry that never came out of her mouth.

A wave of disgust washing over her.

Then... darkness.

If it had truly been a safe place for mind, it wouldn't have shut off completely, would it? So why couldn't she remember anything that had happened afterward? Post-traumatic amnesia. The term had intruded her mind over and over again. But it couldn't be anything like that, right? She wasn't traumatized, right? I mean – eventually, nothing had happened. She should just get over it - should have gotten over it months ago.

Except that she hadn't.

Suddenly, Alex couldn't breathe, and more psycho-terms fired around in her head. Panic attack. Flashback. Trigger. But they all didn't apply to her, right? She wasn't reliving anything – just remembering it. And it wasn't like she really, genuinely couldn't breathe. She knew how to breathe. She just had to remind herself of how it worked: Unclench your jaw. Let go. Breathe in slowly. Feel the air streaming into your lungs. Breathe out. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. See? If this were a real panic attack, she couldn't be coaching herself, right?

She knew who she was (ADA Alexandra Cabot), knew where she was (in her office) and with whom (Olivia). Oliva! Fuck! Liv was here. She was here. Watching her. Judging her! She had to be, right? But she couldn't let her see this! Alex turned away abruptly, only afterwards realizing that her sudden movement must have looked like she were jerking away from some invisible attacker.

"Alex? Alex! Look at me! It's me, Olivia – it's just me."

Of course it was, but that was bad enough already! Alex clenched her eyes shut. It wasn't like she was trapped in some dark part of her mind she couldn't escape from. She just didn't want to. And that was an important distinction, right? She was in control. For now, it was simply easier to let Olivia think she couldn't hear her. Maybe it was rude. Manipulative, even. Morally wrong, for god's sake. Okay. But at least she was in control. It was a conscious choice. A bad, unfair choice maybe, but her choice, wasn't it?

Of course, if she really weren't able to hear Olivia's voice – if she really didn't know where she was or whom she was with or that everything was just in her head, she'd be in trouble. But she was just faking it. She was in charge. She was okay. Right?

"Alex? Can you hear me? Please. You're scaring me." Olivia paused, desperately trying to hide the panic in her voice. "Please... I... I just need to know whether my words are getting through to you, okay?" A hiccuped breath was the only response she got at first, but Liv decided to go with it. "You're safe, sweetie." She whispered gently and let out a sigh of relief when Alex finally did open her eyes. But her friend's low, fragile, timid voice broke her heart.

"Then why doesn't it feel like it?"