“Alex.”
It almost felt like an accusation. A question with no definitive answer. Alex: Why?What? How? Olivia could only swallow her words, along with the bitter heartaches in her throat. She wanted to lash out, and push for questions. But those things would pull Alex away from her, and she can't have that. Olivia can almost hear the car's engine, the wind that almost took her breath away the same night the road swallowed the life out of Alex. She sees Alex's blood sheltering between her fingertips. Did Alex find her home there? Olivia breathes with terror, and almost with hope.
It almost felt unreal. Like Olivia witnessed a once in a lifetime phenomenon. Alex. Alex. Alex. She's here, and Olivia waited for the sun to burst through her window to wake her. Her dreams are haunted by Alex's ghost, her presence a constant reminder of the love that slipped through Olivia's fingers like grains of sand.
She's serious and professional, a guarded wall she's not supposed to have. How are you? Olivia wanted to ask, but Alex's eyes, usually bright with youthful exuberance, were now shadowed with a sameness that mirrored the desolation around her. And Olivia wondered how much has changed.
After the Keppler case, they went back to the precinct. “Cabot, celebration tonight at Blakey's. You wanna spare us some of your divine presence?” Fin asked. Olivia waited for Alex's answer, she could see the others waiting for response as well.
Alex stills for a moment, contemplating on things Olivia can't see. She nodded, “okay.” she responds, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Alex turns to leave. The team celebrated before gathering their own things.
Olivia chased her down in the precinct's lobby, “Alex.” She said, holding onto Alex’s wrist. “You sure you're okay with the party?” Olivia asked, almost out of breath.
“Why? You don't want me there?” Alex said sarcastically, but she waited for Olivia's answer.
“No, I-,” Olivia stuttered, her mouth left open. I want you there. Please come to the party. I love you. Please, stay. Comebacktous. Comebacktome. Olivia wanted to ask: where do you keep all your memories of me? Where do you keep me? Please. It almost felt desperate as she breathed heavily.
Alex looked shocked at what she just said, and clearly misunderstood Olivia's reaction, “I'm sorry, it's just…” She trailed off, “just heavy.” Alex shook her head. “Sorry, I know it'll pass…” She trails off the words, rolling it in her own tongue. “It always does.” It's almost a whisper, like she's ashamed. Alex walked out the door before Olivia could say anything.
How many times must Olivia watch Alex leave before she realized that everything has changed?
She should leave. It's heavy, overwhelming, and everything she's not used to.
She feels like she's just sort of…
There.
She can hear their chatter, their beaming eyes, their head falling back from laughing too much, their smile, – all teeth and gums. It made her sick. She feels like she's going to choke, on what? She doesn't know.
She sat near Fin, watching the team get wasted and drunk. Olivia looked at her and smiled. Alex tries to memorialize Olivia's silhouette under the illuminating lights, and wonders if this is the last time she'll ever see her. Alex wondered if she could live with the fact that she didn't do anything about Olivia, her love, her commitment. If her fucked up decision is what will leave her astray.
She wonders if she can live with the memories of her, or this is just another gut-wrenching experience for her, and she'll forget this, someday. Someday, maybe, but not now. Her anger is much more bigger than her love.
Olivia will thank her for what she did. Maybe Olivia with her child. She'll be a good mother, the thought made Alex ache. A different version of Alex with her husband, whom she shares her bed with, but not half of her heart. Because the thought alone felt like betraying Olivia.
Everything has changed and will continue to do so, and Alex will be left alone in that cold pavement while everyone around her continues to walk past her grave. Olivia's face will mature with time, the laugh lines increased – and Alex will wonder how many people have made Olivia laugh since she died. Olivia will no longer smells like ammunition and bad temper, instead like the fading scent of baby powder, the fullness of time, and something, something Alex can't reach, something far away.
She should leave, like she always does. It almost felt desperate, the clawing of her skin, the need to escape, the craving for something made her nauseous. Everywhere but here, where she belongs but feels like not. Where a part of her lives in someone's heart and mind, but she's not that woman anymore. She will never be that woman anymore
Alex would've handled it well, but she's not Alex. She was Emily for a year, Kate for another eight months, and Alexandra again for the rest of her life.
But Alex Cabot? No, Alex Cabot died on that pavement, on that cold night, – along with her beliefs. Alex Cabot lives in an open grave, crawling out every now and then.
Memories came like a mocking wind, a hurricane with no announcement.
“Your funeral tomorrow.”
I know. I know. Don't you think I don't know that?
“How long?"
Alex wanted to speak then, ‘I'm already dead, Liv. You just haven't buried the idea of it yet.’
There was no answer. There never was. There's whispers, muttered anger, and silence all at the same time. But no answer.
“Alex, you okay? Another wine?” Olivia asked. Stop calling me Alex! I'm dead, Liv. She's sick of herself. So, why is Olivia not sick of her? Alex can see the doubts in Olivia's face, the questions roaming in her eyes. She knows that Olivia knows. They both know that nothing can make Alex stay in New York or anywhere else. But Alex wants, - desperately, to hear something.
Let me leave, I'll come back. I promise.
I love you. Ask me to stay, Liv. Take me back.
“Alex?”
Don't you get it?
Alex nodded instead.
Olivia smiled, soft and easy. Like nothing's wrong. Passing a glass of wine to her. Alex swallowed her bitter thoughts along with the sweetness of the wine. Maybe, she'll let the migraine think for her tomorrow.
Maybe tomorrow she'll have a reason to leave.
Tomorrow she'll find a reason to leave.