Okay so I've been thinking of writing this story for a while because I love Alex, but I never really got there…so I figure I might as well write it and make it my 100th story… The other thing is that this is my first SVU story and while I have seen bits and pieces of the series have not seen anything close to all of it, so please forgive me if I mess up some of the details. Anyway I hope you enjoy it and it doesn't seem too randomly out there.

Spoilers: Ghost, Loss

Disclaimer: I do not own Alex or anyone else of SVU

Alex stared down at her new drivers license: Emily. That was her name now: Emily from Tulsa. It was just one of the many things that had changed in the past week…along with where she lived, where she came from, what she did, and who she was. The truth had all been erased, and it had been replaced by a story created by some US Marshall somewhere.

Gone was the job that she loved, the job she had worked her way up the ladder for. Gone were the friends she cherished and regarded as family. Gone was the only remaining family member she had. Gone was her small but comfortable apartment, which she had saved up her earliest paychecks to buy. Gone was her life in the city she had adored since she was a child. All of it was gone, snatched from her in a single instant, and there was a very good chance she would never get it back.

Alex could feel the lump building in her thought, but she swallowed it. One of the things she had always prided herself on was not crying. Her father had raised her to see it as a sign of weakness, and she had carried that perception with her into adulthood. Though her time with the Special Victims Unit altered her perception enough that she no longer saw it as a sign of weakness in others, she still thought of it that way when it came to herself.

Some part of her wondered why she bothered to hold on to any part of her previous ideology. After all, she was not really Alex Cabot anymore was she? Alex Cabot was a smart, strong assistant district attorney who never let anything get in the way of doing the right thing, of helping the victims. Emily Roberts is a lower level worker at an insurance agency, who does not get a chance to help much of anyone.

Alex threw the drivers license on the kitchen table and, with one last angry glance at the piece of plastic, left the room. She knew what else was bothering her. This time round she was not only not able to help the victim, she was the victim. It was her life that was being threatened, and her world that was being torn apart on the whim of a madman. The worst part was there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

When she had woken up in the hospital room that morning, she had been presented with a choice between two options: witness protection and live as someone else or don't enter the program and almost certainly be dead within the month. She had chosen the first option, but now, after a week of having watched every aspect of the life she had worked to build torn apart, she was not so sure that she had chosen the better option.

It was a horrible thought, and she knew it, but it had occurred to her more than once that death must surely be better than this living hell she had entered into. If she was walking around New York City with a target on her back, at least she would still be in the city she loved with the people she cherished, and if she died she would do so with her head held high. It was not as if it would make any difference to anyone else. They all already thought she was dead…except for Elliot and Olivia.

She had seen the looks on their faces when they realized she was alive and going into witness protection. Despite the fact that she had put them in harm's way as well when she refused to back down on the case and the fact that they both could have been killed by the person who shot her, they looked relieved to see her. They cared about her, and they were glad she was alive even if she had to be taken away from them immediately. That was one of the few reasons she had found to persevere through all of this. She knew that there were people out there who still cared about her, and if there came a day when the threat to her life lifted, they would be there for her.

The other thing was that, no matter what name she went by, Alex or Emily, she was a fighter. She had been faced by a lot of challenges in her life, and she had never been one to back down or run away. She did not intend to start now. Witness protection was going to be an up hill battle. She had known that going in, and no matter home much it felt like living hell, she knew that it was better than the alternative, no matter what her subconscious thought.

Of course knowing that did not make the transition any easier. Knowing that what you are doing is for the greater good rarely makes a difficult thing easier to do, and knowing that this was the better option did not help to suppress the despair she felt as she looked around the small one story house she now called home.

Suddenly the feeling of hopelessness that had been threatening to overwhelm her since the whole ordeal started, came crashing down on her as she collapsed on to her bed. The lump began to build in her throat again, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She tried to fight them back as she had done for so many years, but it was no use anymore. Finally the tears broke free and began to cascade unchecked down her cheeks.

Alex Cabot had not shed a single tear since was eight years old, but that night Emily Roberts cried herself to sleep.

What did you think? Please leave a review and help me so I can do better the next time I write something for SVU.

I'm going to go celebrate my 100th story posting now…