Write this or get suspended aka Olivia's Journal

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

DAY 1

three words: badge, bang, blood

three smells: coffee, cinnamon, gun powder

three ... this is supposed to help? Don't mind me, I'm always skeptical when it comes to this shit. The therapist at the precinct says I need to get in touch with my feelings. I tried my best not to laugh but, she seemed to read my mind; threatened to mark me down as "mentally unstable" unless I started this journal. You know, document words, feelings, smells all that jazz. Gave me a template and everything. Three of each per day, preferably at night. Said this would help me sort out all the comings and goings that seemed to be bogging up my mind.

Then I'm supposed to analyze my feelings. Look at each word I write and talk write about it. "Write in your journal as if you were talking to a friend". She didn't seem to understand that I don't talk to my friends about this stuff. She tried not to roll her eyes at this, I can tell I'm her most difficult patient. But, she's stubborn. I'm worse. But, she's got the power to suspend me. I hate losing. There, a genuine emotion, happy? she no you she said that this journal was a person, a person i could write talk to that wouldn't share my secrets. Secrets are secrets for a reason, they aren't meant to be shared. That wasn't a valid point, and she leaned her pen closer to the box to check off that I was over-worked; stressed.

I agreed, knowing I couldn't function without my work. My mind rebels at stagnation, give me work give me problems. I function so much better when I am busy, when there's something to think about. Doc seems to think that's why I can't sleep. Why I don't know how to relax. Why I'll probably develop an ulcer in the next three years and drink my self into a stupor. I told her the alcohol wasn't my problem. She asked what was. Silence.

Three feelings: bitter resentment, does that count as one or two? I'll go with one, just to be on the safe side. hate uh burning burning. hard. aggravated. (that last one's for you doc)

lyrics: I'm waiting for something, always waiting
Feeling nothing, wondering if it'll ever change

I have six hours until I need to be back at work, so for the next two hours I am going to attempt to fall asleep. Don't roll your eyes Doc, at least I'm writing in this damn thing. You said record you're feelings and that's what I did. You never said I had to be nice; just honest.

-Athos

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

DAY 2

three words: siren, suspect, screech

three smells: burnt rubber, smoke, vinegar

three feelings: tense, alert, contemplative

lyrics: Every whisper
Of every waking hour I'm
Choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool
Oh no I've said too much

So... this is the analysis part, huh? God, I feel so stupid. Alright, the words: siren, suspect, screech. You ever chased someone, doc? Like really chased someone? Not a game of tag; more cat and mouse with bullets. Ever smelt the burning rubber of your tires after taking turn after turn in hot pursuit of some son of a bitch who decided to rob a grocery store and shoot three people as he fled? Have you ever had to hold your composure, fight through the anger, keep running when he turns into an alley way and all you want to do is give up, breathe when your lungs feel like they are going to burst, and your knees and side ache from being slammed into a dumpster?

You ever been shot at doc? Do you know what it's like to look down the barrel of a gun from ten yards off, hoping to god he misses? Then, just as your adrenaline has reached its peak, your heart might just bust right out of your chest he starts running again? This time toward a school; an elementary school. You ever shot anyone doc? Ever thought about shooting someone? Ever felt so alert that all the fear, all the anger, all the confusion is so blurred that you go numb? That the world just folds around you, so all you see is the target and the possibilities? You ever picture a poor, defenseless third grader walking from his secure little class room to the bathroom just as a crazed man in a ski mask breaks through the door? See that kid fall to the ground because that man's so scared he doesn't know what to do, and you're hot on his heels?

No, I didn't think so.

The world is fucked up, doc. I don't need a damn journal to tell me that. I face a lot of shit every day. Whether it's finding a killer, or preventing someone from becoming one, I am busting my ass all over this city. He ran through an alley, about to cross the street, when the back door to a restraint opened. Six jugs of vinegar tossed off a cart into the street. You ever had vinegar sprayed on an open wound? Not the most pleasant of experiences, I can tell you. But, it didn't stop me. It stopped him. I stopped him. He slipped, tripped, stumbled and a second later I jumped. Tackled that son of a bitch. Scrapped up my arms on the vinegar coated ground. But, I cuffed him. Cuffed him and had him in the back of the car before I let off a string of curse words that would make my momma blush.

I'm a cop, doc. I see shit. I do shit. I put shit behind bars. It's a whole bunch of shit, but it's my shit. And I've seen, and done, and but be behind bars a hell of a lot worse.

-Athos

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

DAY 3

three words: carpel tunnel, bandage, swab

three smells: mint, wood, rubbing alcohol

three feelings: irritable, sleep deprived, stiff

lyrics: Don't want your hand this time, I'll save myself
Maybe I'll wake up for once
Not tormented daily defeated by you
Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom

So after yesterday's adventures the chief decided that I needed a day or two of rest, well originally he suggested a week, I convinced him otherwise. I spent my seven to six shift sorting through paperwork, sharpening pencils, and sitting idly in my office. It was better than sitting at home twiddling my thumbs which is what I would have done if the captain got his way. So, I was a little banged up, I had some bruises, some cuts, couldn't bend over without back pain, I was fine.

Got my bandages on my arms tended to halfway through the day at the request of the captain. He said I had to get my gashes cleaned and had to drink tea, not coffee, mint tea to relax me. He's a sweet guy, I respect him a lot. He's always looking out for me. Apparently, I don't really look out for myself. I don't know, I just work. All I think about is the next case, so I guess I sort of forget that I'm human and have limitations and all that. It wasn't such a horrible day. I got to look at a couple cold cases and sift through the archives in the basement. It kept my mind busy.

I didn't sleep well last night. Had this recurring nightmare. I'm in a room. standing in the very center. Everything is white: the walls, the floors, the ceiling, the chair in the corner, the door at the very far end. I see a man peer through the window in the door. His eyes narrow and he turns to run. I am compelled to chase him. I rip the door open and just start running after him. Turning left then right then left than right over and over and over again. The hallways all look the same. They just zigzag and weave in all directions. I can feel my lungs strain, my legs tighten, and he's always fiver or ten yard out of reach.

As I turn the last corner I am in a big auditorium. Like opera style, dusty, red velvet seats, golden statues, very ornate. The man is gone. I am all alone in the dimly light space. Then there's a voice. And I turn. It doesn't matter how many times I have the dream, I always am surprised to see the figure on the balcony. His thick, dark hair, short and cropped to his head. Those deep brown eyes that always seem to know exactly what's on my mind. He doesn't smile, doesn't move. He just stares down at me, lips pursed, breathing softly.

But, it's just a dream. Isn't it? The snap awakening the cold sweats, that's just... nothing... right? I'd like to pretend it was. But, it's not. I know the man on the balcony. All too well, in fact.

Winter.

-Athos

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

DAY 4

three words: saute, pan-seared, sizzle

three smells: garlic, rosemary, sage

three feelings: exhaustion, ache, satiated

lyrics: Don't want to see another generation drop
I'd rather be a comma than a full stop
Maybe I'm in the black, maybe I'm on my knees
Maybe I'm in the gap between the two trapezes

This is going to be short, doc. I apologize ahead of time but, it's been a long day and I am absolutely exhausted. Not an unusual feeling in my line of work, but for once I feel like I might actually fall asleep in a short amount of time. For the most part I end up staring at the ceiling or reading a book or watching the news or something.

Although I got out of the office late today (lots of paperwork and archive sorting) I passed by this farmer's market on the way home and couldn't resist. I bought chicken breasts and fresh Italian breadcrumb. I have a flower pot on my balcony filled with herbs and I always stock fresh garlic in the apartment. So I cooked it all up and had a decent supper, which hasn't happened in weeks.

The captain says I can go back to my normal work tomorrow. Thank god, I was loosing my mind. You'll get more of this analysis junk out of me tomorrow when my mind is focused on a case.

-Athos

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

DAY 18

three words: Professor James Moriarty

three smells: red wine, garlic, warm bread

three feelings: nausea, panic, suspicion

lyrics: "Here we stand
Worlds apart, hearts broken in two
Sleepless nights
Losing ground
I'm reaching for you"

How many years do you think I'd get for manslaughter... you know, if they couldn't prove that I had planned out the perfect was to assassinate a Detective Sherlock Holmes. It's not like many people would miss him. Perhaps Watson but, I think that's a rare exception, even he grows tired of Holmes. I am beginning to think the city would give me a god-damn metal if I just did him in. But, apparently I have a conscience and while the law says I can carry a weapon, it does not permit me to murder innocent annoying co-workers.

He set me up. And fucking a... I took the bait. It was such a rookie move too. He gave the case file. The case file I'd wanted for months and greedy little me snatched it up without a second thought. The M case. The fucking M case. Every detective's been salivating over it since the Captain decided to take Holmes off it. And who did he entrust it to?

Me.

I was so eager. So willing. So... curious. Shit. I should never have taken that envelope... never.

-Athos

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

DAY 23

three words: Oh My God

three smells: formaldehyde, embalming fluid, mentos

three feelings: is eye roll a feeling? exasperated, exhausted

lyrics: "Someday love will find you
Break those chains that bind you"


A little bell should go off in your head when you begin to receive dating advice from someone who consorts with the dead for a living. Apparently, some of them have people skills, who'd have thought? But, I suppose this is what I get for ranting to her for an hour and a half about my pseudo date with a suspected criminal. According to her that doesn't count as re-entering the dating world.

So you know what she did? She sang Journey's "Separate Ways" particularly the chorus about how love was someday going to find me. To which I rolled my eyes and attempted to block her from my brain with the middle school tactic of placing my fingers in my ears and muttering la la la la la la la la until she stopped talking.

Then she... well she made an offer. An offer I couldn't refuse. A six-foot three offer with abs, a dashing smile, and dare I say... charm?

The precinct coroner has set me up on a date... oh goodie.

-Athos

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

DAY 32

So I've respected your prompts and organizational demands for the last month or so, now I'm calling it quits and doing my own shit. Deal. With. It.

I went for a drink last night and ended up chatting with the Mayor of New York for a few hours. That was strange. But, interesting. It was the first time in a long time that I had a normal conversation with someone that had nothing to do with an investigation. Perhaps you were right, I do need to get out more. I wouldn't call us friends, because I don't think politicians have friends. We are more like acquaintances.

I need friends, don't I? Friends outside the precinct, that is. I have friends. I'm not like... totally alone. I just need people around me that aren't part of my work. Go ahead do a dance. I did just agree with you.

Anyway, big bust tomorrow. We got news about a gang producing meth in a home lab. We'll see what happens...

-Athos

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

DAY 40

May I just inquire... at what point do I need to stop writing these? My guess is never. You will never let me go! What ever, I'll stick it through. It's not so horrible.

So, I did paperwork today. There was another robbery. Had his signature. It's killing me. You know? To know that so much of my life was a complete lie. Well, parts of it to be sure. It makes me feel so inadequate. Like I can't do a single fucking thing right. I mean, what kind of Detective am I if I can't even figure out that my husband is god-damn bank robber? I've solved so many cases since. I know I can do my job and yet lately, I feel so... I feel.

I think that's the difference.

I used to be numb. I didn't feel anything. I wasn't angry, or sad, or anything. I just buried my head in my work and kept going. But, the fact that he's back on the streets just ripped me open. I'm bleeding doc. I'm drowning. I'm dying. And, I don't know what to do.

This is what you wanted... isn't it?

-O

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

DAY 41

I got a phone call from my mother today. It's the first time I've talked to her in months. She sounded good... well, as good as she gets. If you though my drinking problems were bad well, she's far worse. It's probably where I got it from. It's how she copes with things. So, like mother like daughter I guess.

I've tired to cool it down but, it seems to be the only thing that helps these days. It takes the edge off at night and helps me sleep. It probably isn't the healthiest method but, at least I get to bed. Or... something.

I often wonder if I should just leave New York. Just pick up and go somewhere else. You know, start fresh. But, then I realize I have nothing else. I love my job. I love my co-workers. I love New York. I couldn't leave here. I'd be more heart broken than I am now. So there you have it... The Great and Terrible Olivia Athos actually had an optimistic moment.

Savor it.

-Olivia