A/N: It sure has been a long time since I wrote an A/O fic! This one will take a while to get to the A/O, but it'll be worth the wait, I promise! In the meantime, reviews make me very happy!

Oh, and I still don't own SVU.

A predatory smirk formed on Alex Cabot's face as she got ready to cross-examine the newest defendant. She wasn't just going to cross-examine him; she was going to grill him so hard that he'd be crying for his mommy in no time.

"So, Mister Grant," she said briskly, easily faking nonchalance. Her voice was crisp, cool. "Your girlfriend of one year came home with a confession of infidelity and a plea for forgiveness. You were furious, but before you could do anything, you had a blackout. When you were aware again, you were standing over her, holding a knife, shocked and dismayed to see that she was bleeding from a dozen stab wounds, in addition to damage to her genital area caused by being sodomized with said knife. Is this correct?"

"Yes," the man said, still confident. For now, at least. It wouldn't last long. "I don't know what happened, or how, or why. It's like I was just there, and then next thing I knew, she was hurt. And my senses were just so hyperacute, you know? I could smell the coppery blood, and hear every breath, and everything."

"And you believe that you should not be held accountable for your actions because of this? You believe this allows you to fit the criteria for temporary insanity?" Alex asked, wording her statement carefully since she knew she was dangerously close to making the defense attorney raise an objection. With her next statement, she would do that deliberately, forcing Grant's hand at the same time, and she didn't want to wear out her welcome before then.

"Yeah, I do!" Grant said. "I was suffering from- what did your shrink call it- Brief Reactive Psychosis!"

"Mm-hmm," Alex said, casually looking at her fingernails. "Awfully convenient, though, isn't it? That after all the troubles you've had with your girlfriend, and all the stresses in your life, you only became psychotic on the night she was murdered?"

"Objection, your honor!" the defense attorney, Mila Sullivan, called.

"Sustained. Watch it, Counselor," Donnelly said dryly.

"Allow me to rephrase," Alex said. "Do you know the statistics relating to psychosis? Do you know how unlikely it is for a person in a psychogenic fugue to return to themselves to find they have committed any sort of criminal act, let alone murder?"

"Well, it may be unlikely, but- but it has to happen to someone!" Grant exclaimed.

She had him.

"Or, even likelier, it didn't happen to you at all. You quoted our psychiatrist in an incomplete fashion; you said he talked about Brief Reactive Psychosis as an explanation for your symptoms. However, our psychiatrist also said that you did not meet the criteria, and yours was just another sham psych defense."

"But I-" Grant began.

Alex cut him off. "Could the legal writer please read Doctor George Huang's testimony as it is written on the record?"

The scribe, a short, homely woman, stopped typing and began to read aloud. "ADA Cabot: Doctor Huang, you interviewed the defendant. What did you find?

"Doctor Huang: Though he claims to have no memory of the incident, and attempts to back that up by claiming to have experienced several tell-tale symptoms of Brief Reactive Psychosis, the defendant was clearly faking. He had clearly done shallow research of the topic and thought he had to show all the symptoms in textbook fashion to fit the criteria; it is quite obvious to me that his psych defense is false."

"Thank you," Alex said when the woman had finished.

Before she could continue, Grant cried, "I didn't- I just lost control- and then the knife was right there-" And then, he very wisely stopped talking.

It was all Alex could do not to cheer. "What was that? I couldn't understand you."

Hours later, Alex was jubilantly walking out of the courtroom. She'd gotten a conviction, all right. And she had been able to absolutely plow the scumbag in the process. This was certainly shaping up to be a nice day, as nice as her job allowed, at least.

"How did it go?" Olivia asked as she walked towards Alex. Olivia had been busy with another case, along with George Huang. They had been working with another ADA and had agreed to meet her after they were done testifying to find out how her case had gone. They'd all put a lot of effort into it, after all.

"Guilty on all counts," Alex said, grinning. "George, your advice was absolutely perfect. Grant was lying through his teeth the whole time and needed someone to drill through his story to get him to reveal all the holes. I gave him the rope; he hung himself."

"That's great, Alex," George said, smiling back at her. "I'm glad that my advice helped."

"His brother didn't even bother to say goodbye to him when he was declared guilty. Just stood up and left," Alex said as they walked towards the courthouse doors. "Maybe he saw the light and realized that Grant isn't worth it. He's lucky he didn't' get charged with obstruction after all he did." She shook her head. "Making a false confession despite all the forensic evidence we had… What was he thinking?"

"Just an older brother's protective instinct, Alex," George said smoothly.

"Yeah, I guess so," Alex replied. "Good thing we got that cleared up before we went to trial. That would've created quite a mess."

Now they were near the entrance of the courthouse. George opened the door and held it open for both women, then followed them outside. Alex and Olivia simultaneously said, "Thank you," as the door closed.

"Good job, and good luck on your next case, Alex," Olivia said, stopping on the courthouse steps. "I have to head back to the one-six to work on a new case the captain told me about this morning." She turned to George. "And George, I don't remember if I told you already, but he thinks we might need you to drop by and give us a profile for this one."

The trio began moving again, and soon reached the bottom steps. "You didn't tell me, but that will be fine. I just have to go to the FBI building for a little bit first," George said. "I have some important business to take care of."

"Alright, then. See you two later," Olivia said. She smiled as she turned in the direction of her parked car and started to head to it.

George turned to Alex, smiling softly. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty hungry. Would you like to go get something? My treat."

"Sure," Alex said. "Where do you want to go?"

"Your pick," George replied. Though his stoicism wouldn't allow him to show it, he felt happy and proud on both their behalves. They had both put so much effort into the case, and only Alex would have been able to try the case as perfectly as she had.

"Well, I seem to remember a Chinese restaurant you said I just had to try," Alex said playfully, "And I'm feeling adventurous."

"Prepare to eat the best food ever prepared," George said with exaggerated solemnity. "Are you ready?"

Alex laughed. "Very. And you know-"

George didn't hear the rest. As an FBI agent, he always remained vigilant of his surroundings; it had been drilled into him ever since Quantico. The drills at Hogan's Alley had honed his sight and hearing, and as a result, he saw a flash of metal that most wouldn't have seen until it was too late.

The realization that someone had just pulled out a gun took only a split-second. The realization that it was aimed in their direction- possibly at Alex- took only one more. But that was enough to severely limit his options. He could get his own gun out so he could fire back, or he could ensure that Alex wouldn't be hurt. He would normally choose to protect the public first, but Olivia hadn't gotten far- she'd be able to apprehend the shooter in no time. He trusted her.

That meant his job was to protect Alex, and he only knew of one way to do that. He didn't mind, though. The instinct to put others before himself had always been in him, almost to the point that it was a weakness. He'd take a bullet for almost anyone, assuming they were a good person, and with Alex Cabot, the decision was so easy that he didn't even have to think about it.

He only had a few seconds to act, though. He had to move faster than he ever had.

"Alex, look out!" he cried, tackling her.

He had collapsed on top of Alex before he heard the earth-shattering sound the gun made- so loud that it damaged his eardrum- and he didn't even register the shouts of fear that erupted around him.

The bullet entered through his back, and he could feel an exit wound near his navel. It was several seconds before he felt the pain, but once it started, it blanked everything else out. It felt like a hot piece of metal being rammed into his torso constantly.

He felt Alex carefully shifting him off of her. He saw, rather than heard, her cry, "George, what- are you-"

He couldn't speak. He felt the warm blood pooling under him, and saw Alex's look of shock and horror when she noticed it.

"L… Lex… Pressure…" He whispered.

It took Alex a minute to understand, but then she nodded and pulled his shirt up, pressing her hands into the bleeding exit wound. It would have been better if she could press the wound on his back, but she knew better than to move him without stabilizing his head. If his spine had been damaged, she would make it worse.

George couldn't stop himself from moaning once Alex's hands started pressing. The pressure intensified the pain to an unbearable level; he barely managed not to scream, and that was more from weakness than anything else.

He shivered from pain and the slight cold. He was slipping into shock quite quickly, he thought worriedly. Bullet must've nicked something…

"Someone, call an ambulance already!" Alex snapped at the crowd that had formed. Thank god she'd taken a first aid class when she'd been in witness protection, she thought gratefully.

"George, hold on," she pleaded desperately, even though she knew he probably couldn't hear her well, if he could at all.

Her hands trembled as she saw George fighting to keep his eyes open. He was bleeding out so fast.

"George, hold on," she said again. She set a hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently, so that he could at least feel that someone else was there.

She didn't even register that anyone else was there, until Olivia set a hand on her shoulder and asked, "Alex, what happened?"

Alex jumped, then looked at the detective. "I don't know- one second we were talking, then George was pushing me aside, and-"

"Well, we found the shooter. A uniform is taking him into custody," Olivia said, kneeling next to her.

Olivia set a hand on George's other shoulder and asked, "George, do you hear me?"

She got no response.

"I think the sound the gun made damaged his hearing. I know my ears are ringing pretty badly," Alex said. "It was painfully loud."

Olivia turned to her worriedly at that, worry clear on her face. "Are you hurt?"

"No, nothing other than my ears. He…" she bit her lip, trailing off. She replayed those few seconds in her head, and realized, heart plummeting, what George had done.

"He took the bullet for me," she said in a choked whisper. Her eyes became wet, though she at least had enough self-control to hide it. "He must've seen the shooter, and… and…" Her throat felt too tight for her to continue.

"Shhh, Alex, it's okay," Olivia soothed. "The ambulance is almost here. He'll be okay."

Alex closed her eyes and nodded, overwhelmed with an emotion she had not felt in a long time.

Helplessness.

She'd been afraid, panicked, even, and she wasn't afraid to admit it. But helplessness just didn't mix with Alex Cabot.

Until now.

George saw the vague outlines of the two women above him and tried to say something, anything, but his strength was failing. He was losing too much blood, too fast, in spite of Alex's efforts.

He wanted to give in and sleep, lose the pain and weakness, but he knew there would be a good chance he'd never wake up again. But if the damage was as bad as he suspected, his efforts wouldn't matter in the end.

That was okay with him. It was better him than Alex. She was an amazing friend, an amazing ADA, and an amazing person all-around, and he didn't want to deprive the world of her.

He didn't realize his eyes had closed until he felt a hand on each shoulder. He managed to blink at them again, but that was all.

He thought about the people closest to him. He sent out a silent, "I love you," to his family and his lover, and that was all he could manage.

His strength was completely drained. His eyes slid shut, and unconsciousness followed soon after.

"George!" Alex shouted, rubbing his shoulder as she desperately tried to awaken him again. "George, wake up!"

"Alex, he's lost too much blood. It won't do any good," Olivia said softly. "But the ambulance is here."

Alex blinked and registered the sound of sirens. She saw the ambulance stop in front of the building, and several EMTs climbing out with a backboard and stretcher.

"I'm riding with him," Alex said firmly, looking from Olivia to the paramedics. Olivia knew better than to argue with her, and instead just nodded.

"Okay, miss," a middle-aged man said smoothly. He slid the backboard under George, and he and his partner, a woman, lifted him onto the stretcher. They rushed it back to the ambulance, Olivia and Alex following.

"I'll follow you!" Olivia said as Alex climbed in.

Alex nodded and mouthed, "Okay."

Then the doors were closed and the sirens back on. She watched the EMT's taking George's vitals and trying to find a good vein to put an IV in.

She felt numb. Shocked. She kept replaying the last few minutes in her head, trying to make sense of it all. Talking to George and Olivia. Olivia leaving. George pushing her away and then… this.

"George, please, please hold on," she whispered to her friend. They had been so close for so long, ever since George had joined the squad. And if he died…

"No," she whispered to herself, shaking her head. That couldn't happen. It just couldn't. She wouldn't be able to handle it.

"If you die, I am never going to forgive you, understand?" she said to the unconscious man. "And you know how scary I am when I'm angry. Last time you got on my bad side, you swore that that wouldn't happen again. So you'd better survive this."

She set her trembling hand on George's knee, feeling her heart hammering. She remembered when she'd been shot, how hard it had been to hold on, with the pain, the fatigue, and confusion. That had just been a shoulder wound; she could hardly imagine what George had felt before he'd lost consciousness and how hard it would be for him to fight it.

Alex couldn't remember ever feeling this helpless before.

"Please, George, just hold on," she whispered, voice cracking.