DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolf…with some play given to USA. All supplementary characters are completely fictitious.

WINDOW

Chapter 4: Let Go

Delicate fingers clutched lightly at the sleeve of Detective Benson's jacket, the leather creaking and sighing slightly under the pressure. Olivia heard a slight intake of break as the lights flickered on and through a thick plate of glass she watched the Medical Examiner, Melinda Warner draw back the pale sheet to reveal the face of their most recent victim.

"That's her…That's Tawny. Oh god."

Liv felt the grip on her arm tighten then suddenly go slack and quickly reacted, swooping to support Lucy Maguire as she faltered. Lucy hung in Olivia's arms like a rag doll; the only indication of life was the occasional heave of the sobs now emanating from her grief-stricken form. Benson nodded to her partner in the room behind the glass as Warner pulled the sheet back up. Olivia wrapped comforting arms around the young woman and walked her, unsteadily, over to a chair; sinking down, still clinging.

It had been less than ten minutes since they had been introduced, but Lucy Maguire had struck a chord with the detective; she resonated with something deep within. Olivia looked the girl over trying to define just what this something was. Lucy was no more than twenty-five, shorter and, had current circumstances been different, very attractive. Her auburn hair was pulled into a short shock of a ponytail and her dark brown eyes were shrink-wrapped with new tears to follow those that had already carved a path down her olive-blush cheeks. Now her compact body was drawn up on the chair and she simply rocked, hugging her knees to her chest and shaking her head in disbelief, the frequent stray tear trailing down the salt-chapped cheek.

"It sounds stupid." Lucy whispered. Olivia jerked her head at the unexpected sound of the girl's voice. For the first time in a long while, Olivia had no words of comfort to offer, so just cast the most sympathetic gaze she could on the young woman. "Stupid…" Lucy repeated, almost to herself. "At least I know. I know…I would rather know than just be left wondering."

Olivia cocked a manicured eyebrow. "Wondering?" The detective was uncertain how to proceed, so did as best she could.

"Where she was. It's worse…not knowing. Where she is. You think: is she safe? Is she…alive?" At this point Lucy broke down once more and Olivia put a comforting hand on her shoulder before pushing off to go and meet her partner, leaving Lucy for the briefest of moments. Elliot Stabler greeted his partner just before she reached the door. They knowingly regarded one another and spoke of the situation at hand, their voices hushed.

"She's taking it pretty hard. What did Warner say?" Olivia hissed in a whisper.

"Same thing Fin already told us, Tawny was slashed post mortem, rape kit positive, and severe bruising a lacerations. Says she was killed in the room, so it wasn't a staged dump." He hesitated, "Do you think we'll be able to talk to her," he jerked his head inconspicuously toward Lucy, "anytime soon?"

"Dunno, why don't we drive back to the station and from there we can take a quick statement from Lucy, then I'll drive her home." She glanced over at Lucy, drawn up into the chair. Her eyes glistened and she seemed to realize that the detective had left her and looked about in a frenzy before briefly locking eyes with Olivia. "She's been through a lot. We need to be gentle, this will only get harder…for everyone." Olivia spoke those last words only partly for Lucy, wincing inwardly, and never breaking her gaze with the girl, even as she addressed her partner.

Letting her partner drive, Olivia opted to sit in the back with Lucy, now a deadweight slumped, exhausted, against her shoulder. Pondering this new weight, physically and emotionally, her thoughts turned inward. This case was forcing her to bring up parts of her life she was more than happy to let lay dormant. She had been successful, so far, with her attempt to keep her private life private, and though she had tried to convince herself that this was all for the best, her resolve was being slowly but surely shredded. She had decided that the job was all she needed, as long as she had that, she didn't have to deal with people, with feelings and all the combinations of the two therein. She could burry all those feelings she never dealt with. If they rose to the top there was always some new case to weight them down again, or push them aside. She was running from herself and, as was the trend lately, she was losing.

Lucy forced her to look at her life with scrutiny. She got worked up over this case, and for good reason: it struck a little too close to home. The guys never really talked to her about her love life, but they got the gist of things after all the failed attempts to set her up with what's-his-name from homicide or vice or wherever. They didn't ask, she didn't tell. She didn't date anyway, so what did it matter if she dated women or men. The choice was never a factor, so it was never really made clear. Don't ask, don't tell. Work was her one great love, and that was enough…wasn't it?

She had learned this the hard way. When she was still in her first years in the academy she had met a woman with whom she shared some of her more memorable nights. Rebecca…Rebecca Hendrix. They were still young: rookies. They had gravitated to one another quickly forging more than just a solid friendship. Olivia had fallen. Hard. She had always known she was attracted to women, so her relationship seemed normal to her. Natural. It just felt right. With Rebecca, things were not as simple.

While Olivia wanted to shout of her newfound love to all the world, Rebecca was hesitant to make their relationship public. The force could be hard on women trying to make it in a "man's world." She kept telling Olivia that she wanted to make it on nerve, determined to have a perfectly unblemished record. She didn't need the guys on the force leering and making rude gestures and she certainly didn't need their forced smiles and plastic kindness. So she stayed decidedly, indefinitely, in the closet. Things were very different for the future SVU detective. When they were together, Olivia didn't think about politics of the academy, her head was clouded with the complete elation of finding what she could only describe as love. When they were together all Rebecca could think about was "DYKE" scrawled in red permanent marker on the file that would follow her around for the rest of her career. It filled her with resentment and fear. When word got around that Hendrix and Benson were "fucking", the rumors flew and more than a few colorful words were spat at the pair in passing. Tolerance, though preached and taught, was not practiced by many of their peers. Rebecca became insolent, ornery; Olivia became confused.

Olivia looked at their situation as an opportunity to strengthen their relationship, to face down adversity, hand in hand. In the end, Olivia stood alone. Rebecca was so ashamed of all the rumors and the prospect that this one "mistake" --she had yelled this at Olivia; that was all her love was in the end, "A stupid mistake!"-- would haunt her for the rest of her career, that she ended up dropping out of the program to pursue a career in medicine. Olivia was heartbroken and swore off not only relationships, but also any sort of discussion thereof when work was a factor, regardless of whether the subject was male or female. Since her life was her job, work was always a factor. It was easier to be alone. Then, at least, no one could hurt you. But that didn't stop her from hurting…

"You okay?" A faint voice drew Olivia back into the present as she blinked back the tears she hadn't realized were streaming down her face.

"Yeah…yeah. Fine…" She said, still in a haze. They were in the sedan out in front of the stationhouse. How long had they been sitting in the car? Pull it together, Liv. You can do this. Liv gently retracted an arm from behind Lucy Maguire and realized that her passenger had fallen asleep, the last hour or so had been a rather exhausting ordeal. Lucy stirred and turned puffy, slowly waking, eyes up to Liv.

"Today has been pretty hard. I don't want to draw it out any more than I have to." Elliot's voice was low and gentle when addressing Lucy, "I have to get a quick statement, and then one of us can take you back to your apartment, if that's alright?" He was at Lucy's door, extending a hand to her. Lucy broke eye contact with Olivia and grasped Elliot's outstretched hand, pulling herself from the car. Olivia was left alone for a brief second before Elliot stuck his head in.

"Come in whenever you're ready. I can take care of her," He cast a sympathetic look on his obviously flustered partner, "why don't you call it a day?" The brown-eyed detective nodded absent-mindedly before sliding across the seat and emerging from the door Elliot had left ajar. She wandered into the stationhouse and found her way to the women's restroom and, locking herself in the last stall, hugged herself and began to cry, silently, at first but then with great heaving sobs, sinking to the ground and holding her face in her palms.

She hadn't noticed the creaking of the door or the clicking of heels coming to a halt in front of her stall. The door swung inward, and there, a lithe blonde woman beheld a woman of stony resolve crumbling before her eyes. ADA Cabot had never seen her detective like this. Her detective… And without even thinking, was suddenly on the floor beside her. Alex knelt beside the dark-haired woman, who, having run out of tears was simply shaking. Olivia looked up, recognizing, for the first time that she was not alone and a frenzied look crept across face. Alex noticed this change and brought soft hands to capture Olivia's face. Her thumbs wiped the remaining tears from under the detective's eyes and her fingers wove through Olivia's short, brown hair. Detective Benson gave a self-conscious sniffle and at that moment, Alex did something completely out of character: there, kneeling on the cold tile floor, she drew Olivia into a tight, solid hug.

While a new wave of emotion hit Olivia and tears again began to flow, she was stung with the realization of what was transpiring. The woman she would not allow herself to care for, the statuesque, composed blonde was kneeling on the floor of a bathroom stall in a suit that probably cost more than Olivia could make in three months…holding her. Just holding her. Olivia gave into the sensation. She let herself go as she cried, once more, uninhibited, on Alex's shoulder.

Alex too had to stop and consider her actions. When Elliot had mentioned that Olivia was a bit shaken up, Alex was off like a shot looking for her. Finding her here on the floor, vulnerable and in need, it was all Alex could do not to simply scoop her up and cradle the detective in her arms. Wrapped in an embrace and happily accepting Olivia's tears, Alex let her emotion get the better of her. She held tight…tighter, and felt the older woman relax into her embrace. Slowly Alex pulled them both to their feet. "Let me help you home," Alex breathed gently, Liv's face still buried in her now tear-stained neck. A brunette head rose slowly from a soggy shoulder and nodded consent, as Alex lead them out of the stall.

After a quick splash of water from the nearby sink, Alex had gathered their things, hailed a cab and in a blur, Olivia found herself at the door of her apartment, fumbling with her keys, still half leaning on the younger ADA. Upon entering, Alex took in her surroundings and remarked, "Okay, you got us here, now let me do the rest." Alex led Olivia across the living room and down the hall she assumed lead to the bedroom.

"Here," Liv croaked and indicated the door on her right. Alex led Olivia through the door to the bedroom. She released her hold on Olivia and let her rest on the edge of the bed.

"I'll give you some privacy…" the blonde ADA said lingering over the interior of the bedroom, "Why don't you change and I'll make you some tea." With that Alex turned on her heel and left the room. She laid their coats across the back of the couch and busied herself in the kitchen, poking around for tea bags and mugs, and trying hard not to think about Olivia changing in the next room. After the tea was made, she stripped off her now tear and mascara stained blazer, putting it with her overcoat and went to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth for Olivia.

Olivia was just settling back onto the bed in a tank top and a pair of NYPD sweats, when she heard a soft knock at the door. She gave the all clear and Alex pushed open the door, bearing two steaming mugs of hot tea and a washcloth draped on her arm. She had taken off her blazer and was wearing a well-tailored light camisole with her charcoal skirt. She placed the mugs on the nightstand and paused for a moment, with washcloth in hand.

"May I?" She asked referencing the edge of the bed. Olivia nodded and the young blonde sat down on the edge of the bed facing the detective. Slowly Alex brought the washcloth to Olivia's tearstained face and the detective sighed, melting into the warmth. Alex was gentle and the touch was almost more than Olivia could bear. "Alex…" she let it escape from her mouth without thinking, "I…there's so much…I just…you wouldn't..." Olivia was getting worked up, wanting desperately for Alex to understand. The younger woman just smiled and gave a look so intensely empathetic, that the detective simply gave up, sinking back down into the pillow and eventually drifting to sleep, the sensation of Alex's soft touch on her face still lingering in her dreams.