A/N- Okay, this is what happens when I get writer's block. I lose all capability to write about the story I want to write about and random words pour out of my fingertips to my keyboard and they form this. This is a short, rather sad, story that I think I like. I've finished it, and it's a six-part tale. If it gets good reviews (hint-hint) I'll post the other five pieces up. If not, then I'll take this down and continue. NOTE-This has absolutely nothing to do with my other fic, Daughters of SVU. This is a product of insane boredom and writer's block.
Disclaimer- Not mine. Duh!
Pretty Please?- Reviews. I love them. I'll post the next five chapters sometime in the next five days if I get lots of reviews telling me if this story is good or bad or messed up or completely out of character. Who knows?
Story Summary- She didn't want to be his. She didn't want them to be his. Angsty E/O.
"Casey, I'm scared," Olivia admitted softly. She sat on the floor of her bathroom, holding that stupid little stick in her hand. Casey rubbed her back gently from her position on the edge of the bathtub, watching the stopwatch count down the three minutes of waiting. She didn't want to say anything, she didn't want to upset her best friend. Could Olivia really be pregnant? It was hard to believe. Not hard to fathom, but hard to believe, actually.
"Liv, it's time. Want me to look for you?" Casey pried the stick from her hands and glanced down. The nervous woman bit her lip and waited patiently. Casey embraced her and mumbled something in her ear.
"You're going to be a wonderful mom." The mother-to-be nodded and broke down, crying and leaning heavily on the young lawyer. Casey simply let her hold on and waited for the tears to stop.
It wasn't supposed to happen this way. It wasn't real, it couldn't be. If this was happening, then it was all real. And what would have to happen would break her heart all over again.
"Liv, do you know who your baby's father is?" She knew that this question could potentially hurt her. In fact, she was expecting it. What she didn't expect was her friend's reaction. She had burst into tears all over again and turned away.
"It only happened once, Casey. It only happened once!" were the only words she could say.
He had come to her a broken and angry man. She had let him in, because what else could she do? He was her best friend, her protector, and right now he was the one who needed protecting. He had weaved his fingers in her hair and kissed her, hard. It wasn't really love, not the way a man who is in love with a woman kisses her. It was love in the sense that they were best friends. She would be there for him, and he needed her. Actually, at that time, he had needed nothing more then her body. She had let him have it, because maybe it would help him. She was blind when it came to his well-being. She cared so much for him, but couldn't let him care for her as well. She was marked as unlovable. It helped her in some ways and hurt her in others. She had let him have her, and they hadn't even been protected. How could he have known that the last time she needed to take that pill they had been working through the night on a tough case? How she had thought she wouldn't need it, not until he was knocking on her door. He couldn't have known, and she wouldn't hold it against him.
She hated that, once they were finished and dressed and he was getting ready to go, she had spoken.
"What happens now?" She still shudders at the thought of those words.
"I don't know," he had replied, then left. For the first time in their partnership, she hadn't been the one to leave, at least not yet. He had closed the door and drove away, leaving her confused and upset and worried.
The worst part had come the day after. She had come to work, same as usual, only this time he wasn't sitting across from her. The captain's door opened and he walked out, with their boss looking after him with a pleading desperation in his eyes. He stormed away, not even bothering to look back. That was when the captain beckoned her into his office.
"He's leaving. He's going to work in Queens." She remembers shaking her head fervently, hoping that this was some sort of sick joke. She remembers running out of the office and onto the roof. The door was locked, she was alone, and she cried. The sky was her only witness, and it wasn't talking.
The next few weeks were miserable. She was partnered with the cynical senior detective, and nothing he could say would bring the smile back to her face. Her job wasn't a joy anymore, it was a nightmare.
Then came the day where nothing came. Nothing. She was worried, usually her body was like clockwork. She checked her calendar and manually counted the days. It was certain, today was supposed to be the day. With her nerves eating at the edge of her mind, she waited until the next day. Again, there was nothing. The same thing happened for the next five days. It wasn't coming.
On the fifth night, she called her friend with a clear trace of fear in her voice. Casey Novak comforted her on the phone, didn't ask questions, promised to pick up a test, then left. True to her word, she arrived holding a small plastic bag and a sad smile on her face. They disappeared into the bathroom, and Casey offered the other woman a little privacy. Then the countdown began. Three minutes of pure torture until the truth. That one little word that made possibly the strongest woman in the NYPD burst into tears appeared on the test. There wasn't much else to do. She was happy for her friend, but her friend was too busy crying to notice how happy she ought to be.
"Liv, why are you crying?"
"Because there is only one thing I can do right now and I have to do it." She took a deep breath and released her friend. She glanced around her apartment, around the place that she had come to know as a home for at least a decade now. Briefly, she had left it, but that was because she had had to leave. She had left Elliot and fled to the Feds. She worked with them in Oregon, undercover. It was a break she needed and felt he did too. He was angry with her when she returned, but slowly they worked into something that resembled the friendship they had once had.
Then he showed up at her apartment, and everything shattered.
"What do you mean, there's only one thing you can do now? Are you talking about having an abortion?" Casey was surprised that she would think of having one. She never seemed the type to do that. In fact, Casey was often jealous of the way she could handle children.
"No, not an abortion, I couldn't do that." The weeping woman stood up and looked out her window. The city was enveloped in rain and fog, a kind of day that matched her mood right now.
"What are you going to do, then?"
"Leave," she said simply, a sad smile on her face. "The only thing I can do now is leave."
"You're going to leave? What about Cragen? The squad? You can't just leave. They will all want to see your baby. They'll want to help you. Are you going to tell them?"
"No. It's better they don't know. Maybe, one day, I'll send everyone a postcard. But I'm going to leave. It is for the best, really. I have just one favor to ask of you."
"Anything."
"I know where I want to go. I know that it will be terrible, living alone and having a baby growing inside of me. In eight months, I am going to call you. I want you to fly out to me if you can. I can do everything else on my own, but I'd like you to be there when my baby is born. That shouldn't be kept from my best friend, the one person who cares about me." She knew the rumors flying around her and the previous ADA, Alexandra Cabot. There had never been any kind of relationship like that, but she had bonded with each lawyer simply because it was nice having a female in their midst. After being 'one of the boys' it was a nice and welcome change.
"I'll be there, Liv. Wherever you are." She felt a rush of sympathy towards her best friend.
"I want to drive you to the airport. Call me with your flight plans, okay? You shouldn't have to leave alone." Casey couldn't exactly say she was shocked. When in doubt, the detective ran. It was simply what she did. Usually, she came back. This time, she was seriously beginning to wonder whether this time would be the first time where the goodbye was permanent.
"Captain, can I have a word with you?" she asked, taking a deep breath. This part would be the hardest. He would ask questions, try to find answers when she didn't want to say anything.
"Sure. What's up?" He sat down and looked at her, trying to read her body language. Something told him this wasn't good.
"Tomorrow I'm leaving SVU." There, she said it. Now, wait for the explosion.
"What? You've already picked the date? Where're you transferring to?"
"Not transferring, Don. I'm leaving."
"What?" She saw the confused look on his face.
"I'm leaving. I'm going away." His face fell with a new look of knowledge.
"You're running away," he accused quietly.
"I don't know if or when I'll be back." Truth be told, she wasn't sure if she could allow herself to come back.
"Does this have anything to do with Elliot?" Her captain always was smarter then he let on.
Yes! "No, it isn't about him. It's for me."
"How long will you be gone?"
"At least a year, probably more," she whispered, wanting nothing more then to crawl underneath something and hide.
"You know, you'll always have a job here waiting for you. No matter what," he told her. Gently, she unclipped her gun and lifted her badge off of her neck. She put them on his desk and walked away.
Munch and Fin followed her, knowing something was up the second she stepped out. They didn't notice that there was no weapon on her hip and no badge on her person. They couldn't have.
Munch yelled her name, chasing her onto the sidewalk.
"What do you want, John?"
"What happened?" She had called him John. She didn't typically do that unless she was very mad or very appreciative of him. His guess right now was that she was mad.
"Nothing," she called over her shoulder. Fin ran up to her and caught her wrist. She turned around to jerk away and Munch grabbed her other arm.
"What's wrong?" Munch asked.
"Where's your gun?" Fin asked, noticing the empty holster. That was all it took for her to start crying once more.
"I'm leaving," she told them. "I'm going away, and I won't be back for a long time. Now, let me go!" She pulled back and took off towards her apartment, but the duo caught up with her once more.
"What happened? This isn't like you!" Munch exclaimed, but the crying woman simply sped up and eventually they stopped following her. She paused at a corner and turned around. They were standing, looking at her, a few yards away.
"Take care of Elliot, Casey, and Cragen for me. Goodbye," she sobbed, and disappeared into a crowd of people.
Running away was her thing. She ran away when she was afraid, nervous, angry, and needed to deal with things. It was the one impulse she had a hard time keeping in check. When in doubt, run. It was very simple. And now, it was another reality.
She didn't want these belongings. She didn't want to see the suits and sweaters and jeans that she had worn everyday to work. She left a few days of outfits behind in a drawer. She would keep the rent up on this place. If something happened where she was going, then she could run away. Except, if that happened it wouldn't be running away. It would be running back to a slightly safer place.
She fingered the gold necklace that she always wore around her neck. It was the only piece of jewelry she planned on taking with her. The rest would be locked away in the small safe of the apartment. If she was lucky, she would forget how to open it.
Her apartment looked rather lonely. She had dumped all the food, packed away all her silverware and plates into an overlarge suitcase. She had created an account with the local bank where she was going and bought a little cottage online. The internet was wonderful. She had went to the neighborhood library and logged on, found a realtor, and it was done after a call on her cell phone. Next was a car. She couldn't help but get a sedan similar to the one she and her partner had driven for so long. It would be exactly what she and her child needed. That was done over the phone, and she arranged where she could pick up the keys. Then she bought a new cell phone number and disconnected the old one. Perhaps Casey would be given that number before she left.
Her plane ticked was tucked safely in her coat pocket, next to her cell phone number. Her bag, stuffed with the basics, was sitting next to the door. The buzzer rang, a startlingly loud sound in the soon-to-be vacant apartment. Minutes later Casey appeared, wearing a tank top and khaki capris, not her usual court attire. After a few moments of meaningless small talk Casey glanced around the apartment for a final time.
"You're really going, aren't you?" she asked, and both of them instantly fought back tears.
"I have to," the runaway whispered, picking up the duffel bag and arranging the strap around her shoulder. "Let's go."
"Is there anything you want me to do for you, while you're gone, I mean," Casey offered. They both stood at the edge of security. Once she passed through the metal detector, she was as good as gone. This was goodbye.
"Check up on my place every once in a while, if you have the time. Don't let Cragen fall back onto the bottle on my account. Make Fin make peace with his son, and find Munch someone who'll care for him. You need to enjoy your life and your job. You do it so well. Make sure Elliot doesn't do anything stupid. You might be able to get through to him." She felt her voice crack and sniffed quietly.
"Anything else?" Casey asked, crying softly herself.
"Don't tell them anything. One day I'll have to explain myself, but I can't yet. Don't tell them about my baby, don't tell them any lie or truth about why I left. They'll annoy you, plead with you, and argue with you for any detail. Just remind them that eventually I'll come home. And don't change your phone number. In a few months, you're going to get a phone call. Don't forget that I want you there. Just, don't tell them anything, ok? The overprotective bunch of morons will find me out and they'll bring me back to New York before I'm ready."
"I won't tell them anything, but it'll be hard. On me, on all of us. You never noticed how Cragen looked at you like you were his daughter, how Munch was always quick to protect you. Fin would admit things to you that he wouldn't tell anyone else. I don't get how you can leave all of this so suddenly." Casey was confused, and she had a right to be. The golden girl of the unit, the one that held them together, was breaking them up.
"Because it's what I do, Casey," she whispered, bowing her head. She embraced the lawyer and cried for a long moment. Both women were unsteady on their feet and beyond sobbing.
"If you don't call me in eight months, I'll come after you and bring you back to the city myself," Casey threatened, laughing amidst her tears.
"Goodbye, Casey. Don't forget about me, ok?"
"I never could. Goodbye," Casey replied. The woman who had been a detective, who had only encountered another goodbye that could bring a reaction like this, hastily wiped the tears away from her face and joined the security line. She refused to look back until she had stepped through the metal detector and had reached a turning point in the corridor of the airport terminal. Then, she turned around and waved at Casey before rounding the corner.
Olivia Benson had successfully run away yet again.