Work Text:
3 months earlier
Alex allowed her eyes to close as the final whir of the electric razor sounded by her ear, Audrey's soft hands scratching the clippings from her scalp. With a satisfied hum, Audrey blew away the last of it and turned the device off, resting it on the bathroom counter.
"Not bad," she said, kissing Alex's cheek. The detective opened her eyes to inspect the mirror. "Very prison chic."
"Hmmm," Alex murmured, running a hand through her now very short-cropped hair, tilting her head left to right, trying to find a suitable follow-up. "Hmmm," she repeated, unable to come up with anything else. Finally, she added, "Feels... different. I dunno, what do you think?"
"I like it," Audrey replied, returning her hands to Alex's head, preening the style as if she knew what she was doing, which she definitely didn’t. "Suits you, makes you look handsome."
"Handsome, huh?" Alex spun in her seat, eyebrows raised. "Didn’t know you'd be into that. Next thing I know, you'll be calling me da—" Audrey's hand immediately covered her mouth, muffling the last of her sentence.
"Nope," Audrey released her palm with laughter in her eyes. "Although..." She gave Alex another once-over. "Hmmmm, I dunno. It’s kinda doing it for me."
"Oh yeah?" Alex stood, grabbing Audrey by her hips and pulling her in close. "Well, I'll make a note of that," she murmured, nuzzling into Audrey's neck to kiss the skin softly. "Maybe I'll come back all buff," she moved to the spot behind Audrey’s ear, eliciting a gasp, "... prison tats," she then peppered a trail of kisses to Audrey's mouth before pulling back a moment later, her eyes looking more sincere. Instead of continuing the fantasy, she breathed a heavy sigh. "God, I’m gonna miss you."
Audrey’s eyes softened at that, a familiar look of hurt that Alex had become accustomed to. She'd promised to minimise her time undercover since the beginning of their relationship, but this particular request stood out to her. A killer who’d been placed behind bars had several bodies attached to her name without a location, and countless family members needed closure. It was brought across her desk with the promise of two months paid vacation as a reward, and while that wasn’t her only incentive, it had only taken Alex a few days to decide that it was a noble enough cause with a decent enough payout.
"What are the chances of this being wrapped up in a week?" Audrey asked, the question hopeful but the tone decidedly unhopeful.
Alex didn’t respond, simply bringing her lips back to Audrey's apologetically before saying, "Come on, we’ve got 12 hours before I have to go. I intend to make them worth your while."
4 months earlier
"Sophia Ramirez's cell is here, yours will be here," Frank pointed to the screen, where a diagram of the cell block was on display.
Alex sipped her coffee as Chief Watson took over. "The dossier in front of you has everything we have on her, and details from the warden about who she runs with in the prison. Just remember, go in slow."
"Slow," Alex repeated, thumbing through the files.
"You have a month to memorise all those details, including your own backstory. Frank here will be testing you until then."
"How often can I speak to you guys? And to Audrey?"
"Part of your cover is you have a kidney condition, so you'll get medical appointments scheduled in where you'll have access to a laptop so you can communicate with us."
"So, who knows? All the staff?"
"No," Watson dismissed the comment as if it were absurd. "The fewer who know, the better. Only the warden and one of the doctors, and that’s after we ran an extensive background check and made him sign a million forms."
Alex clicked her teeth. "Right, okay. So, if I run into trouble, how can I get a message across?"
"Either wait until the doctor appointment or get yourself thrown in solitary. The warden will visit you and get a message to us."
Up until that point, Alex had approached the mission with a sense of adventure. A chance to live a parallel life, if only briefly. But the mention of solitary and the knowledge that she would be left alone in there dulled her excitement. She clicked her teeth as Watson and Frank went into further detail, her grip on the cup tightening as they explained what prison life looked like.
The detective wasn’t one for regrets, but she was nearing a feeling close to it by the end of the briefing.
2 months earlier
"Can’t do that," Alex shook her head as her opponent attempted to move the knight illegally. She picked it up, hovering over the board. "It can only be an L shape, like this," she demonstrated the possible motions before returning the piece. "Try again."
Megan tried again, shooting Alex a look as if to say, like this? Alex nodded, before moving her own piece. In Megan's defence, it was only her third time playing ever, and in Alex’s defence—teaching chess to an adult who was only half interested is damn near impossible. But still, they persisted, the boredom of being locked up all day allowing for innocent pastimes to rise.
The usual background hum of chatter—some muffled, some raised, some angry, some laughing maniacally—was nothing out of the ordinary until Alex heard a guard shout, "Ramirez, that’s enough!"
Alex followed the commotion to see her target squaring off with someone on the staircase. Not an unlikely scene and not one Alex batted an eyelid to, but it did give her a window to quiz Megan on Sophia, something she hadn’t had a chance to do yet.
"What’s her deal?" Alex nodded nonchalantly in her direction.
Megan looked, then shrugged. "Dunno."
This was about as far as most conversations went with Megan, but Alex pressed on.
"What’s she in here for?"
It wasn’t a question you asked people directly, but gossip was fair game.
Megan squinted at her, as if she’d grown two heads. "You really don’t know?"
"No?" Alex feigned innocence. It was a risky move; she’d already had this conversation with another inmate, but Megan was the quiet type, so it was unlikely to come back and bite her. "What’d she do?"
"She killed like three hikers, probably more," Megan practically mouthed, darting her eyes back. "But she’s fucked up," she touched her skull suggestively. "Said she did it to protect the trails, too many people, overcrowding, some shit like that."
"Woah," Alex sat back in her seat, pretending to take in this information for the first time. "That’s..."
"Fucked?"
"Yeah."
"Why do you say there are more?"
Megan ignored the question, her tongue sticking out in concentration as she made a new move on the chessboard. She gave Alex another questioning look. Alex glanced down—the move was illegal, but she didn’t have the heart to tell her, so she forced a smile.
"Nice one," she moved her own piece before continuing, "So, why do you say there are more?"
1 month earlier
"Baby?"
Audrey practically gasped as she heard the familiar voice down the line. "Alex, oh my god! How—how are you calling me? I thought you couldn’t—wait, is everything alright? What’s going on?"
"Audrey, I’m fine," Alex chuckled, but it sounded a bit forced. "I just—god, I needed to hear your voice."
"Al, I—god, I miss you so fucking much."
Alex clutched the phone to her ear, taking in a shuddering breath as she pressed back against the wall. "Me too," she whispered, sliding down the concrete, willing herself to sound more optimistic.
"What’s going on?" Audrey urged. "Are you in trouble? How are you calling me?"
"I, uh, I kicked a guard."
"You what?"
"On purpose," she clarified. "I just wanted to get in solitary so the warden would visit me. I needed to call you. I hate that I’m not allowed to use the regular phones."
"Alex—you kicked a guard?"
"Yeah, it was the only way. They’re fine. I’m fine. I just..." she sighed. "I feel better hearing you."
There was a pause as Audrey gathered herself on the other end of the line. "How’s it all going?" she asked eventually.
"Slow," the detective admitted. "I’ve had a few interactions with the target. She seems... well, she’s difficult to talk to. I’ve had to say some things that make me want to throw up in my mouth." Alex smiled when she heard Audrey chuckle slightly. "It’s weird hearing you say my name."
"Right, right, you’re Mia in there, aren’t you?" Alex groaned. "Sorry, sorry! Alex. Alex Monroe."
"Thank you," she wiped a tear from her eye that she hadn’t realised was there. "Just... talk to me. The warden says I have 20 minutes. Unless... are you busy?"
She could hear scuffling in the background, but Audrey eventually assured her, "I am, but you’re more important. Right, Alex, where do I start? God, okay—Ava, you’ll never guess what she got up to the other night."
Alex’s heart fluttered at the sound of her girlfriend’s voice, a reminder of the life that was waiting for her when this was all said and done.
One week earlier
"How’s our girl doing?" Frank pulled up a chair beside Benson, prompting him to remove his headphones. It was time for their twice-weekly check-in on Alex, where they’d scan the security footage from the prison just to make sure everything was running smoothly. They were in communication with the warden, so it wasn’t really necessary, but Audrey had metaphorically twisted Benson’s arm to make sure they were doing everything they could to keep her safe.
Benson opened up the data and scrolled back a few days, pressing play on the communal area footage.
They made small talk as they half-heartedly scanned the clips. Half the time, they couldn’t even see Alex, but it was still interesting to watch their much-loved colleague take on a whole different persona. Her short hair had grown slightly longer and scruffier, and the way she rolled up the sleeves on her T-shirt gave Benson Grease vibes and was an endless source of entertainment on the private WhatsApp he shared with Ava.
"There," Frank prodded a salty finger on the screen. "That woman." Benson paused, pressing Ctrl and scrolling up to zoom in on the image.
"What about her?" he reached into the bag of chips they were sharing and crunched down.
"She’s just... staring at her. See that?"
Benson played the video, fast-forwarding it to see that Alex did indeed appear to have an admirer. She was playing cards at a table with a small group of inmates, and in the corner, a woman stood, arms folded, scowling, for a whole seven minutes.
"Might just be... her face," Benson offered up eventually. "Resting bitch face, it’s a thing."
"Maybe," Frank scratched his beard. "Send a screenshot to the warden. Find out who she is."
"On it."
Present day
Alex wiped the sweat from her brow, squinting against the bright sunshine as she readied herself to receive the ball.
Basketball wasn’t her sport, never was, but the majority of women in here were equally fumbling, so Alex found herself enjoying the brief moments of normalcy. She grabbed the ball, dribbling it past an opponent and jumped up to make a shot—missing spectacularly.
"Mia, you FOOUUKING SUCK," a woman cackled from the sidelines, and Alex—or Mia—turned to stick up her middle finger.
"Hater," she called out before clapping her hands and gesturing to Sophia to pass her the ball again. Sophia rolled her eyes, chucking it over. The same opponent as before barrelled towards Alex, but Alex used her shoulder to push against her torso before fumbling a sidestep.
Which was a mistake.
"Fucking bitch," the woman grabbed Alex by the shirt, yanking her back. Instincts took over, and Alex dropped the ball, her hand reaching up defensively to strike, but the woman beat her to it, slapping her in the face and heaving her by the collar down to the ground.
A brief scuffle ensued, broken by a chorus of guards yelling, "THAT’S ENOUGH," as some of the other inmates separated the two.
Alex shrugged off the hands and huffed out, clutching her shirt, which she now realised was ripped.
"Woah," Sophia spotted her chest immediately. "Nice scar."
Alex clutched her chest, doing her best to cover it up. Women of all shapes and sizes, tattoos and scars resided in this prison, but Alex had decided on day one that she didn’t want to reveal that side of herself; it felt too personal, so she always showered in an oversized T-shirt (she wasn’t the only one, so it didn’t raise too much suspicion, besides the odd comment to the effect of "virgin pussy bitch," which was, whatever).
"What does it say?" Sophia continued batting Alex’s hands away.
"Leave it," Alex warned the killer.
"C’mon, don’t be shy."
"Yeah, show us ya tits," another woman called out, a few now circling to see what vested interest Sophia had in Mia’s chest.
Alex didn’t see it, but a figure hopped off from the bleachers when they saw the distraction and was making strides over.
"Fuck off," Alex warned the onlookers, half-smiling as she tried to turn her shirt around, so the rip was on the back instead of the front. She’d just brought the shirt up to her head, vision skewed by the fabric, when she felt the collar being forcefully tugged down for the second time that day.
Alex blinked and looked at the face in front of her.
"It’s you," the woman—Jax? Jaz? Alex recognised her but couldn’t place her. "It’s you," she repeated, eyes scanning Alex’s, widening by the second.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Fuck. Fucking SHIT," the woman gave Alex a hard shove, sending her stumbling backwards, her arms still trapped in the confines of her skewed T-shirt. "SHE’S A COP, SHE’S A FUCKING COP."
///
Benson shook off over the urinal, fumbling to return himself under his zipper when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked at his smartwatch, waiting for the notification to pop up.
It was an email, the subject stating, "Code 10:43//11.48 am."
He frowned, remembering a second later that he’d set up his computer to receive important alerts from the prison’s communication system. He wasn’t familiar with the code, so didn’t move with any sort of urgency.
Which he regretted five minutes later when he returned to his desk with a fresh cup of coffee and clicked on the security cameras of the prison.
"Fuck," he muttered before swinging around in his chair. "Fuck," he said again, realising that Frank was nowhere to be seen. Charlie looked up from his desk, noticing Benson’s panic.
"You alright?"
"No," Benson gestured towards the door. "Get Watson or anyone in here now."
Charlie nodded, scrambling from his desk.
Benson returned his eyes to the screen, scrolling back a few minutes to find the source of the code 10:43, which he now understood to mean riot.
And bam.
There it was.
It was hard to make out on the screen, but Alex had got herself into a minor brawl in the courtyard outside. Something to do with basketball? Benson squinted his eyes in an attempt to sharpen the images in front of him. Her shirt looked ripped, and then she was facing off with a woman, who then pushed her to the ground, yelling something. It was getting the other inmates riled up.
"Shit," Benson swore again, as a few of the figures began launching kicks at Alex. A guard attempted to step in but was greeted by a wall of angry, abusive women. Benson skipped ahead a minute, and the courtyard was in total pandemonium, guards with their batons out, punches and kicks being thrown, Alex being dragged—dragged—indoors by her feet.
"What’s going on?" Watson charged over, closely flanked by Charlie. Benson didn’t really have an answer, but the screen spoke for itself. Watson’s mouth dropped open before she reached for her mobile. "We need to get down there, now."
///
Audrey snapped off her gloves, squirted some hand sanitiser onto her palm before diving into her pocket, pulling out the source of the incessant vibrations she’d felt whilst interacting with a patient.
Three missed calls from Frank Arden.
Audrey’s heart rate spiked as she returned the call.
"Audrey?" It sounded like Frank was in a car.
"What’s going on?" she asked, withholding her panic until absolutely necessary.
"We don’t know what’s happened, but a riot’s broken out in Alex’s block."
"Is—is she okay?" Audrey was already biting the skin clean off her finger. "Frank? What’s happening?"
"The footage, it looks... it looks like someone made her."
Audrey paused, trying to recall what the term meant, but then it hit. "Oh god, they know she’s a detective?"
"Possibly, we don’t know," the line cut out slightly. "—once they find her, then we’ll take her out."
Audrey clutched the phone tighter. "Once you find her? Frank, you cut out for a second. What do you mean, once they find her?"
"She’s not on camera. The guards have been overrun. The warden is waiting for SWAT to come in and extract her."
"Frank—is she in danger?"
A pause.
"Yes."
"Frank—what, what do I—"
"I’m on my way there now, you should come too."
///
Alex felt something wet splash against her face, followed by a thrum of pain in her temples and ribs. She gurgled as her eyes flickered open, blinking in the unfamiliar surroundings.
"Wha...where...."
"Officer Monroe," a voice snarled over her. Alex felt a breeze against her chest. She glanced down, realised she was topless. A harsh slap against her scar jarred her awake.
"Wha..." she scrambled up, wincing in pain as she crawled against the toilet bowl, eyes scanning around the room, realising she was in a cell. Everything felt different, screams coming from outside, a loud siren. "Who..." Alex took in the faces staring down at her.
"You remember me?"
"Ja..z?" Alex clutched her forehead. "What’s going on?" she tried to recall the moments that led her here; she vaguely remembered a punch-up outside but had no memory of how she wound up indoors.
Jaz sneered as she crouched down by Alex. "You know, I thought I recognised you. I couldn’t place you. I kept watching you, tryna think," she pressed her index finger painfully against Alex’s bruised cheek, "and then I saw the scar."
"What are you talking about?" Alex attempted, her voice hoarse and weak. "I don’t know what you’re—"
"Pff, save it, Mia." Jaz turned to her companions, and they shared a laugh, but then her face turned serious as she faced Alex again. "You took my children away from me, you remember that?" Alex stared dumbly. "You remember?! You told me you’d help me, told me you understood what I’d been going through, told me about your scar, said it gets better for people like us," she was practically spitting, "and then you took my fucking CHILDREN away from me," she slapped Alex hard across the face, causing her head to clang against the metal behind her. "You were a fucking liar, you RUINED my life."
"Pl-please," Alex choked, spitting out blood as she tried to back away further. "You’ve got it wrong," her thinking was a mess, she was confused and in pain and couldn’t even remember who this woman was. All her training had long since flown out the window, now it was pure survival. "I’m Mia, you’ve... I’m not..."
Another thwack to the head, followed by more laughter.
"Please," Alex tried again, chest heaving as she tried to keep herself conscious. "Don’t do this, it’s not - not a good idea," her eyelids fluttered slightly.
Shit, no Monroe. Stay awake. Stay awake.
"Wha...t, what do you want?" Alex swallowed thickly, blinking through the dribble of blood that had entered her eyes.
///
"How the fuck did this happen?" Watson demanded as she approached the warden outside, SWAT vans pulled up on the prison lawn.
"Who is she?" Frank held up a screenshot of Jaz. "Get me her file."
"You’ll get her file once I have this situation under control, detective." The warden turned his back to them as he coordinated with the heavily clad officers.
"How did we miss this?" Watson muttered to Frank. "I thought we ran a background check?"
"We did," he said. "Maybe we didn’t go back far enough, but none of the names came up as people Alex had put away."
"What a fucking shitshow."
Frank hummed his agreement, noticing Audrey’s car pulling up and being stopped by officers. "LET HER THROUGH," he called out.
///
"What I want?" Jaz spat, her feet pressing heavily on Alex’s chest. "What I want is—"
"Arghhhh," the detective wheezed in anguish, the rubber plimsoll jamming painfully against already bruised bones.
"—is for you," the foot twisted, Alex’s arms instinctively gripped onto it, "—to," another twist. Survival instinct kicked in, and Alex mustered all her remaining strength to jolt the leg sideways. "FUCK!" Jaz stumbled, her arm reaching out to grab the bunk bed, clearly not expecting her opponent’s show of strength. Alex twisted upwards and delivered a blow to her solar plexus, rolling out of the way as Jaz stumbled to her knees, clutching her stomach and gulping for air.
Alex sensed the two other women in the room closing in, so she spun around to them. "DON’T F-FUCKING TOUCH ME. I’M A - COP." She paused to catch her breath, wiping the blood from her face unsuccessfully. "TOUCH ME - AND YOU’RE NEVER LEAVING THIS PL-ACE."
The women hesitated, looking at each other, before getting distracted by the commotion outdoors and fumbling out to join the fun.
Alex scooted back against the wall, watching Jaz as she attempted to regain control over her paralysed breathing.
Her ears were ringing, her vision blurred with blood, and the pain in her sides was growing more stabbing by the second. But she knew one thing. She had to move.
She scrambled upwards, hunched over and limped into the main communal area, just in time to hear the megaphone outside.
"THIS IS ARMED RESPONSE. LAY DOWN WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD OR WE WILL USE FORCE."
Alex hobbled over to the laundry room, dodging manic bodies running around, and reached into the bucket to pull on a t-shirt. It was dirty and way oversized, but she didn’t care.
Suddenly remembering the door, she closed it behind her, plunging herself into comparative silence as the sounds of SWAT breaching the compound echoed around her.
Still gasping for air, she slid down the wall, hands planted firmly on her body as she closed her eyes, taking short inhales.
Then followed the familiar sounds of canisters rolling on the ground, followed by the hissing of air as tear gas was released.
Alex watched as the smoke snaked under the doorframe, encompassing her temporary safe-haven in suffocating fumes.
"Fuckkk," she wheezed, collapsing into the fetal position and clutching her eyes, her lungs heaving against the intrusion.
Thankfully, her discomfort lasted only a second, because as quickly as the smoke came, so did the curtain of darkness that followed.
///
Monitors displaying the SWAT’s body camera footage were being shown from the main assembly tent. Frank, Watson, Benson, and Audrey all gathered around with bated breath, trying to find signs of Alex.
But the smoke and the sharp movements were making for a dizzying display, and Audrey had to look away, clutching onto Benson’s arm.
"Get her out of there," Frank stormed over to the warden.
"They’re trying to get the situation under control, then we’ll get her out."
Audrey overheard and paced over. "Every second is critical if she’s injured; we need to go in there—now."
The warden exhaled loudly, clearly feeling the weight of the situation. "There’s a process."
"Fuck the process, I’m going in." Frank turned on his feet.
"You cannot do that, detective."
Frank spun around, arms held aloft. "None of your guys knows what she looks like! If she’s unconscious, how’s she meant to respond? How will they know it’s her?"
"Frank," Watson stepped into the conversation. "Calm down."
"No," Audrey raised her voice. "He’s right. I’m going in."
The warden glowered at Watson. "Get your people in line, chief."
"Where are the doctors? No one’s been extracted. What the fuck is this?" Audrey rolled her eyes as she caught up with Frank, who’d already started walking towards the exit.
"YOU CANNO—"
"Warden, leave it," Watson interrupted.
"This is my prison, my jurisdiction."
The chief tutted. "I can have the mayor on the phone in two seconds if that’s the route you’re going to go down, but one of mine is in there, so forgive me if I’m not kowtowing to policy right now."
The warden was waved at by SWAT who were standing near the entrance, pointing towards Audrey and Frank as if to say, "Did you send them?"
Eventually, the warden rolled his eyes and nodded his head, waving them through.
Frank and Audrey were immediately given gas masks, and flanked by an armed guard, they were led into the building.
Upturned tables, harsh smoke dissipating but very much still present in the air, litter everywhere, the odd bloodstain. The women had gone absolutely wild in the time they’d had.
Most were being forcibly pushed inside cells, which were then systematically locked behind them by prison guards who looked like they’d had more than their egos bruised.
It felt dystopian, but Audrey didn’t have a chance to take in the spectacle because she had one focus only. Alex.
"ALEX!" she yelled out, Frank doing the same as they searched all the available areas, poking their heads through closed cells bars to see if Alex lay within them.
"Where is she?" Frank pushed an inmate against a wall, tears and snot running down her face. "Where’s the cop? Where did they take her?"
"Fuck knows," the woman spluttered out. "Getthefuckoffme."
///
ALEX
ALEX, WHERE ARE YOU?
The words bled into Alex’s consciousness, and she opened her gluey eyes, choked on her own breath, and then crawled to her feet.
"H—e-lo," she croaked out, but even her own ears barely registered the volume.
ALEX
That voice? It couldn’t be.
"In..h-e..re," she attempted again, crawling to reach the door, her hand lolling towards the door handle. Her hand slipped off twice before she finally got a grip, the door opening and her body dragging loosely with it. "H-ee-reee," she spluttered, releasing the door and landing on the linoleum with a splat and a grunt.
"ALEX."
She felt footsteps but couldn’t stop her eyelids from squeezing shut, the intensity of the tear gas stronger out here than in the laundry room.
A figure fell to their knees by her, but when she blinked her eyes open, all she saw was the terrifying outline of a mask.
"Alex, it’s me," the person said.
"Au...drey?" Alex took in a winced breath, her eyes opening a fraction before shutting again. The person had something soft and was wiping it against her face.
"Alex, stay with me. Where are you hurt?"
The detective attempted to gurgle out an answer, but the pain in her ribs was paralysing. All she could focus on was taking small, hiccupy breaths.
"Fuck, okay, okay, stay with me, Al, it’s gonna be okay."
"Au...drey?" she tried again.
"Yes," Audrey grabbed her hands, giving them a squeeze. "It’s me. We’re getting you outta here. FRANK, FRANK, SHE’S HERE!"
"Thank fuck," Frank raced over, immediately eyeing her condition.
"I’m gonna lay you flat, okay, baby?" Audrey waited for a response, but instead, all she got was another muttered questioning of her name. She peeled off the mask and chucked it away, her eyes immediately watering at the harshness in the air, but she didn’t care. "It’s me - look," she cupped Alex’s face, and Alex opened her eyes, a faint smile curling at her lips.
"Hi...b..aby."
Frank was off in the distance, calling in for medical assistance.
"Where are you hurt?" Audrey lifted Alex’s shirt, taking in the tapestry of blue, green, and red that coated her skin. She then fumbled around Alex’s head, trying to locate the source of the bleeding. "You’re okay, Alex, stay with me. Do you know where you are?"
"Ho...sp--ital," she whispered, her eyelids fluttering.
Fuck.
"No, baby, but soon. Alex, stay awake. Hey, what’s my name?" Audrey craned her neck, looking for any signs of medical personnel. She wanted desperately to get Alex in the back of an ambulance, but she didn’t know her injuries, and moving her might cause more permanent damage. "Alex," she tapped her face. "What’s my name?"
"Au...drey," Alex mumbled out.
"Good, good. And what’s my sister’s name?"
"A...va..."
"Yes, baby," she leaned down, planting a kiss on Alex’s dry lips. "You’re going home so soon, okay. Where do we live?" No response. "Alex?" Her muscles fell limp and melted into the floor. "Alex, stay with me. ALEX!"
///
Jo-Anne Watson clutched the flowers to her chest as she sought out Alex’s room. Facing Detective Monroe’s close circle was the last thing she wanted to do right now but knew it would be worse if she didn’t show her face.
"Knock knock," she sounded by the door, pushing it open.
"Chief," Alex croaked out from the bed. Jo-Anne had to stifle her reaction. She looked bad. Face swollen and bruised, eyes reddened from irritation. Legs hoisted up, thick bandages covering her waist.
Audrey stood by her side, arms folded as she watched her girlfriend’s boss sheepishly enter with a vase of pathetic flowers.
"Care to explain?" Audrey seethed.
"Audrey..." Alex sighed, her head collapsing back into the pillow. "Don’t."
"What?" she snapped. "This was a royal fuck-up. Alex should have never been in there."
"You’re right, Dr. Benjamin," the chief regained her composure, used to dealing with difficult conversations. "You absolutely have a right to be upset," she placed the vase on a counter.
Alex stared down Audrey. "I signed up for it."
"They were meant to check everyone. Who was the woman?"
"It... it was a woman Alex dealt with during her early days as a beat cop. She played a role in reporting her to child welfare. But she never actually arrested her directly, that’s why her name didn’t appear on the file."
Alex remained stoic. "I... I don’t even remember her. She was gonna kill me, and I don’t even remember her. How fucked up is that?" She let out a heavy sigh. "So it was all a waste then."
A heavy silence filled the air.
"I’m afraid so," the chief looked equally crushed. "Can’t win ’em all, detective. This one’s not on you."
"You got that right," Audrey seethed under her breath.
Ignoring the comments, Alex muttered, "Those families..."
"Like I said," Jo-Anne awkwardly touched the end of Alex’s bed. "You went undercover, you were compromised. It happens."
"No more undercover," Audrey glared at the chief. "She’s done her time. No - more - undercover."
"If... if that’s what Detective Monroe wants..." She glanced over at Alex’s frail form on the bed.
Maybe it was the meds, or maybe it was the look on Audrey’s face when Alex had regained consciousness in the hospital.
But Alex surprised herself by reaching out for Audrey’s hand and stating sincerely, "It is. No more undercover. I’m done."
The relief washing over Audrey’s face was palpable, so the chief found it a prudent time to end the conversation on a high note. "Well, as a thank you for your service and acknowledgement of our wrongdoing, the department is upping your paid vacation to three months, effective immediately. That is... unless you want..."
"I’m not hiring a lawyer, if that’s what you’re thinking," Alex smirked, her eyes still trained on Audrey, who looked set to break down in tears.
"Right, okay. That’s good. Glad to hear," the chief made a fumbling goodbye and exit.
"You know what the worst part is?" Alex offered when they were left alone.
"What’s that?" Audrey asked, leaning close to her.
"This," Alex pointed upwards. Audrey frowned, running a hand through Alex’s short-cut.
"Your ... hair?"
"Yeah, it’s just a big stonking reminder isn't it?"
"THAT's the worst part?" Audrey would have slapped her if she didn’t love her so damn much.