Disclaimer: It all belongs to Dick Wolf. C'est le vrai.

I have scars all over my arms and legs. Scars over scars over scars, because when I was a stupid little kid, I thought no one could hurt me more than I could hurt myself. I was wrong. All it did was cause me more pain, more pain I didn't need. But eventually, my body would be so battered that even I couldn't tell which scars came from my mother and which ones were self-inflicted.

When I'm in bed at night with Alex, she sees them. At first, I was self-conscious, refusing to undress in front of her. I never told her where they came from, but I think maybe she knows anyway, because she treats them with the utmost tenderness and respect, bathing my scars with her tongue, as if she can wash away the memories that come with them. She never asks. She knows better.

She doesn't ask about so many things. About the scars on my body, about why I flinch when she touches me unexpectedly, why I can't go all the way when we're in bed at night. Much as I love her, there are too many scars on the inside for me to give myself to her fully. And she understands. She loves me still. She's too good for me.

There's one thing she doesn't understand, though. Why I go to my mother's grave every single Sunday, to lay flowers on her headstone and tell her how much I love her, even though I don't believe in heaven and I know she can't hear me. Alex doesn't understand how I can love the woman who caused me so much pain.

But in a way, my mother was just as much a victim as I was. And so I can't blame her. But then, Alex has shown me that I can't blame myself either.

There are no easy answers, and I have to be content with that. I wish I could fix everything broken in the world – it's why I became a police officer to begin with – but I know I can't, nor can I change the past. All I can do is look to the future.

A future that I hope Alex and I will share.

I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot. Review if you did!