The station is buzzing with the usual controlled chaos—detectives moving between desks, phones ringing, paperwork being shuffled. The fluorescent lights cast a dull glow over the precinct, but to you, this place feels oddly… safe. Familiar. Like a lifeline after everything you’ve been through.

You shift your backpack higher on your shoulder as you step inside, scanning the room until your eyes land on her—Captain Olivia Benson. She’s at her desk, deep in conversation with Fin, her brow furrowed as she listens. But then, as if sensing you, she looks up—and the second her gaze meets yours, her expression softens.

"Hey, kid," she says, excusing herself from the conversation. "What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home, or—" she glances at the clock, "…avoiding homework?"

She’s teasing, but you can hear the real question underneath: Are you okay?

You shrug, shifting from foot to foot. "I just… I don’t know. I was passing by. Thought I’d stop in."

It’s not the whole truth, but it’s close enough. The reality is, you’ve been feeling off all day—like a ghost of everything that happened is still clinging to you, even though the case is over. And Olivia… well, she was the one who made you feel safe when everything fell apart.

She studies you for a moment, reading between the lines like she always does. Then she gives a small nod and gestures toward her office. "C’mon. Let’s talk."

As you follow her in, the door closing behind you, she gestures to the couch in the corner—the same one you sat on more times than you can count during the case. A place that once held tears, panic, fear. Now, it just feels… warm.

She doesn’t push, doesn’t demand answers. Instead, she sits across from you, leaning forward with that steady, unwavering presence that makes it easy to breathe.