Chapter Text
By all accounts it was a relative normal day in the special victim’s unit, if you can call any day there ‘normal’ which is debatable.
Olivia sat in her office, working on one of the many piles of paperwork which amassed from the job. And it was far too plentiful after the cases which they had worked over the numerous previous days.
She lifted her pen, about to sign her name is the traditional squiggly font that her signature consisted of, when her phone began persistently buzzing on the table.
It had been lying face down on her desk, so when she picked it up, she was surprised by the caller's ID. It was like a blast from the past, back when the squad consisted of her, Elliot, John, Fin, and Cragen. The good old days.
The screen before her depicted a much younger woman than she would likely be now, for this photograph had been taken years ago. Olivia remembered the specific date when this had been taken – 01/07/2007 - just after they’d won a landmark case and Elliot had taken the photo of her celebrating. In fact, she was pretty sure that that was her arm in the background of the shot. It was grainy, as was the typical quality of photos from back then, but she was really happy. Olivia had been then too.
She finally decided that there was no use continuing to delay the inevitable phone call, so she gently slid her finger across the screen, to the answer button.
“Hello, Olivia,” the voice answered, tone extremely grave, which deeply mismatched the photo on the call screen.
“Hi, Casey, what’s this about?” She answered, trying to stay positive until what this was really about came through in the call.
“Olivia,” Casey answered, causing Olivia’s heart to sink further in her chest. This was clearly not a social call, no matter if she hadn’t seen this woman in years.
“Come on Casey, just spit it out, I don’t have time for this,” Olivia said, sounding too accidentally mean, but it was nothing she could stop now. Also, it hadn’t exactly been untrue; she did have a lot to do, and not infinite time to do it in.
“Okay,” Casey answered, voice sounding far more robotic and detached than it had before, “Lowell Harris is out. He got out today. I’m sorry. I tried everything I could.”
She may have been about to start another sentence, but Olivia couldn’t tell. Because she hung up. But, no.
No.
It couldn’t be true.
Surely not.
A violent flashback took over her mind, and she was immediately back.
Back in the basement. She had tried so hard to fight, to get out of that situation she had found herself in. And she hadn’t succeeded. No matter how hard she tried. She’d felt so powerless in that moment, and it really had not helped that Fin had to come and rescue her. She needed help.
And the PTSD that had resulted from it.
She knew not to blame herself. That fact was something she’d parroted to so many victims. Yet it was much harder in practice than in theory.
And now she had plunged back there. Nearly...
Wait. It had been.
It was 20 years after.
20 years.
That’s when she remembered his last words to her; ‘see you in twenty years, detective.’
She hadn’t thought much of it back then. 20 years was ages away.
Was.
Now, it felt like the time had crept up on her. While she’d been distracted. Unaware.
It was here.
Twenty years had passed.
And she was nowhere near ready to see him again. To reopen the wounds which she’d carefully closed through years of healing.
Maybe he hadn’t meant it. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he was a nice person now, reformed from his twenty years locked up.
Even just thinking about it, she knew how naïve she sounded. She was the reason he’d had to spend so long locked up. And she couldn’t just think that it would be okay with him. Because that’s unrealistic. There’s no way he’ll just be cordial toward her.
He hates her guts.
She just had to pray that he wasn’t coming for her. And she had no possible way to tell whether he was or not. She’d just have to wait.
Entangled in the unknown.
She couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t pretend that everything was okay when her entire life was crumbling before her.
Did anyone else know?
Surely not.
They would be here if they knew. Trying to talk her off the ledge she was on.
Deciding that they must not know, she decided to go out and get some air.
She walked out of her door and felt eyes on her. It was nothing. Just normal eyes.
Right?
She knew that she wasn’t thinking straight, that’s why she’d gone to get air. So, she continued walking, ignoring the questioning from her team as to why she was leaving.
If they thought that she was alright before, they definitely didn’t think that anymore. But she didn’t care.
She just needed out.
She was standing outside, toying with the idea of taking up smoking, as a way to calm the nerves that she was feeling, when Fin walked out.
“Olivia,” he half asked, half stated, clearly trying to get her to tell him what was wrong with her.
“I’m fine, Fin,” she snapped, before adding more solemnly, “I’m always fine.”
“Even in the face of all that fineness, I know something’s up Liv, you can tell me,” he said encouragingly.
“I... I... I can’t say it, I...” She whispered, stumbling over her words.
Fin’s warm arms embraced her trembling body, as sobs slowly began to appear. His warmth against her body made her feel almost safe. Almost.
Harris was still out there. Almost completely free.
He could be here. Looking for her.
Or he could be living his own life.
And she couldn’t know which. And that uncertainty terrified her. To no end.
And she still couldn’t find a way to tell Fin. So, she didn’t.
The rest of the day was a blur and thankfully there were no new cases that required her time, because she was certain that she could not dedicate any of her time to it.
When she arrived at home, she flopped backwards onto the sofa, as tears began to cloud the edges of her vision.
Noah was at his half-brother's house, and...
Oh god, she hadn’t even considered Noah. Harris surely wouldn’t hurt Noah to get back at her. He was sadistic, but not that sadistic surely?
She wished she could get a definitive answer. To literally any of the many questions which bounced back and forth through her mind.
She just couldn’t, it wasn’t possible.
What if he came for her?
What if he came for Noah?
What if she lived in fear for absolutely nothing?
There were no achievable answers. She’d just have to wait. In agony.