1. Chapter 1

**A/N - This is set in a time when Elliot is still working at the SVU with Olivia, (maybe season 11-12) but in the beginning of my fic he has temporarily been transferred to another police department. E/O of course. Warning: this story has adult content (language, sexual assault) and is potentially upsetting. Much of the details are alluded to rather than directly recounted, but even so the insinuation is pretty obvious.**

1

She stared horrified at her Captain as she fully took in what he was telling her. The official report had just come in from the coroner's office. Melanie Carrey had committed suicide. And it was all her fault. The guilt was immeasurable. It was like someone had reached inside and ripped her guts out. She felt completely numb to every sensation except the horror of what she had done, or rather not done. She couldn't remember ever fucking up a case as badly as this one. This was it. Her career was over. There was no way she could get over this. She was supposed to be helping victims, not driving them to suicide. What had happened to her? How had she allowed herself to sink this low?

"Take the rest of the day of Olivia," she heard him say. It was predictable. Any hint of emotion in the office and they were sent home to gather themselves, expected to return in a few days with their feelings in check, buried neatly away so they were ready to face the next sickening case with a semblance of professionalism. It was all shit. She had spent the better half of her career in this unit and for what? A fucked up personal life, a depressing job and ultimately she had failed an innocent child who had deserved so much better. It was reprehensible.

Dazed, she stumbled out of Cragen's office and instinctively headed to her locker to grab her keys and bag. She could feel the gaze of every single member of the team on her but she kept her head down, refusing to risk meeting anyone in the eye. They would all find out soon enough the full extent of what she had done, that was if they didn't know already. She saw Fin out of the corner of her eye making as if to head towards her and she quickened her pace. She was in no mood to talk to anyone, not even him. She just needed to get out of there and quickly. The air was stifling. She reached up to pull her shirt away from her neck a little, suddenly aware that she was probably breathing way too fast. She took a long deep breath. She needed to get a grip.

Outside the cool November air immediately hit her but she didn't bother with her coat. What made her think she deserved the comfort of warm clothing when that poor girl was lying on the cold metal slab in Melinda's lab?

"Oh God," she groaned desperately, her hand covering her face. This was a nightmare. How could this have happened? She wished and not for the first time that Elliot was here. This never would have happened if she had been on her game, but his temporary reassignment had completely thrown her for six. It was never the same when they were separated. She was completely out of her comfort zone and it had obviously made her sloppy.

She wondered what Elliot would say when he heard about this latest fiasco. He'd always told her the truth as he saw it. He would no doubt lay it on the table and tell her exactly what he thought of her actions or inactions, but instead of shying away from the idea she relished the thought. She deserved all she got. Accepting a few harsh words from her partner was nothing compared to what fate had met that poor child. She wasn't the one laying on that table. _It should have been her. _The sudden thought scared her. She wasn't seriously suicidal, but she had to acknowledge that if her death could have saved the girl, she would gladly go back and give her life.

It was a ridiculous idea though. The child was dead. It was her fault and there was no way she could face another day in that unit after this. It hit her hard then and she knew it wasn't just a whim. She was deadly serious. She decided she would turn in her papers as soon as she could.

Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, for she found herself wandering into a dive of a bar about halfway between her apartment and the precinct. It was barely four in the afternoon and unsurprisingly there was no one else in there, not even any staff by the looks of it. Perhaps it was shut, she thought.

"Hello?" she called, on the verge of leaving.

However, a man of medium-build with a crop of dark brown curly hair immediately appeared from what she guessed must be a stock room or something and grinned at her welcomingly.

"We don't open til five," he informed her.

"Great," she mumbled. "Sorry to disturb you." She couldn't help but notice that this guy had an odd shape to his left ear, but out of politeness, she tried not to stare.

"It's a birth defect," he said cheerfully, seemingly used to the attention his ear drew.

"I'm sorry," she said, blushing slightly.

"Hey, it's fine. Say, you look like you're in need of a drink. Come, sit down. As long as you don't mind me scurrying about getting things ready, then you're welcome to have a drink."

"Are you sure?" she asked not wanting to inconvenience the guy, who was obviously preparing the bar for the night ahead.

"Beer?" he offered.

"Sure," she agreed. She usually preferred a glass of wine, but what the hell. It wasn't every day your career, in fact your life, went down the toilet.

She watched him as he popped the cap on a bottle of some import beer she didn't recognise and plopped it down in front of her with a small glass. She decided she liked his attire. He was simply dressed, but his shirt fell open just enough to let her know he obviously worked out in his free time.

"Thanks," she smiled. The place might be a dump, but this guy was obviously good-hearted and Olivia found herself warming to him instantly. There was something honest about his eyes and it made her want to trust him.

"So what has a pretty lady like you in such need for a drink at this time of the day?" he asked her curiously.

"Just the biggest fuck-up of my career," she sighed. She could almost laugh at herself. Here she was, spilling her guts to a stranger in a bar over a beer at four in the afternoon. This was definitely a first.

"It's probably not as bad as you think, you know," he ventured.

"Oh it is," she said decisively. The guy was only trying to console her, but he obviously didn't have an inkling of just how serious her situation was.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked.

"Probably get drunk," she replied flippantly, taking a long sip of her beer straight from the bottle while at the same time wincing at the sound of her own words. What was she thinking? How was getting drunk going to help? Melanie was dead. Nothing was going to make that go away.

"Look everyone fucks up at some point in their life," the bar owner offered in another amicable but futile attempt to cheer her up.

"Yeah, maybe, but not like this. Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. You've been really kind. I just think I need to go home and try and get my head round it all. It's been a really rough day."

"Sure. Look, the beer is on the house. There's just one condition: you come back some time, when you're feeling a bit better."

"Sure," she agreed with a smile, while at the same time very much doubting she actually would follow through on her promise and suspecting this guy knew that very well. She got to her feet and headed to the door.

"Thanks," she called out again.

"Hey, what's your name?" he called out.

"Olivia," she replied, with a smile.

"I'm Lawrence. It was great to meet you, Olivia. Come back soon OK!"

"OK," she replied before slipping back outside onto the street. What a surreal experience she thought. It was strange coming out of a bar into broad daylight.

By the time she reached her apartment building she had made her decision. She needed to see Elliot. She told herself it was because she needed to talk to someone who understood the job, but at the back of her mind was the sad truth that she had no one else in her life but him to talk to anyway.

Changing direction and heading east she flagged down the first cab she saw and clambered inside. It wasn't without some trepidation. No doubt Kathy wouldn't be overly impressed to see her banging on his door considering they weren't even technically partners at the moment, but she would get over it. She had to see him and surely talking to Elliot had to beat getting drunk in a dive bar. Besides she felt she owed him an explanation in person as to why she was turning in her papers and abandoning their partnership. No time like the present, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Warning... this chapter is potentially emotional. (Suicide mentioned)**

2

_Two weeks ago_

Olivia looked round at the children in front of her. They were all aged twelve to thirteen and she had come in to give them a talk on personal safety. It was hoped that educating girls about how to keep themselves as safe as possible would help reduce the likelihood of any of them getting into any potentially dangerous situations and ending up being victims of the kinds of sex crimes Olivia and the rest of the unit dealt with on a daily basis. Her talk had been simple and judging by the questions and stories they had been sharing afterwards, it had gone down well and she was pleased. She always felt nervous facing this age group and was inevitably relieved when things went smoothly.

After the session ended, she was gathering together her belongings, when she noticed one of the students, a fairly small blond-haired girl, approach her.

"Hey," she smiled. "Do you have a question?"

"Kind of," she replied shyly.

"What's your name?" Olivia enquired kindly, halting what she was doing to give the girl her full attention. She looked younger than her grade, so much so that Olivia wondered if it was possible she might have skipped a grade or two. It wasn't unheard of.

"Melanie Carrey," the girl replied quietly.

"So what's your question Melanie?"

"I was just wondering. You said you work in a special victims unit which helps women and children."

"That's right, I do."

"Well, say if you have a kid report something really bad. What happens to that kid?"

"Well it depends on what's happening. Basically we want to make sure every child or young person is safe and we work to ensure that's the case."

"I see."

"Melanie, is something bad happening to you?"

"I… well… no… I was just curious, that's all."

Olivia looked at the child sharply. She was obviously hiding something and alarm bells started ringing. Something significant could be wrong here.

"You know if there is something troubling you, you can tell me. I want to help you."

"It's nothing," Melanie replied firmly. "I… I've got to go."

"Look, here's my card. If you ever want to talk, call me, okay?" Olivia handed the girl her name card with her contact information on it.

"Thanks," Melanie said as she walked away.

Olivia watched her go, a sinking feeling in her heart. There was definitely something up with this child. She decided she would speak to the principle before she left and see if she could find out any information.

…

Her meeting with the principle hadn't raised any red flags. The child was performing well scholastically and had perfect a perfect attendance record. Her homeroom teacher hadn't noticed anything unusual other than the fact that she was quiet. She had only joined their school a couple of months ago, so they still didn't really know all that much about her, other than she had moved around a fair bit due to her parents' work. It could explain her shyness. Olivia imagined it must be hard to continually make new friends and then be uprooted and have to start all over again. She was still not completely satisfied however, so she made the decision to contact social services and arrange to have them check in on the girl at home, just to make sure everything was really okay.

That night after a relaxing bath and an evening curled up on the sofa in front of the TV she was on the verge of heading towards her bed, when her phone rang. She sighed: the only reason anyone would be calling her at this time of night would be work-related and being called out on a case now was the last thing she wanted to face. She was exhausted and just wanted to curl up under her sheets. On glancing at her phone however, she didn't recognise the number and her curiosity was peaked.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other end. Great, she thought, a prank call at this time of night. Slightly irritated she spoke more curtly this time.

"Hello? This is Benson. Who is this?"

"Olivia?" The caller had a quiet voice that she recognised immediately as the girl she had spoken to earlier that day.

"Melanie, honey, is everything okay? What's the matter?" Immediately her irritation was replaced with genuine concern. It was very late for a seventh grader to be making phone calls. She reached for her notepad, ready to record any necessary details.

"You said I can call. Is it okay?"

"Yes, of course. Melanie, did something happen? Can you tell me?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Olivia sighed. It was frustrating, but it took time to get children to trust her. The fact that she had called was an important first step. She determined that she would call social services again first thing in the morning and try and hurry along a home visit. Something was definitely not right.

She chatted for Melanie for thirty minutes about anything and everything besides the reason for which she feared she had actually called, before she managed to convince her to try and get some sleep.

"Thanks for talking to me, Olivia," Melanie said just before they said goodnight.

"You're welcome sweetheart," Olivia said. She wished she had told her what was going on so that she could really help. Casual chit chat wasn't going to change a potentially bad situation.

Once the call ended, Olivia struggled to sleep. Her mind was racing with thoughts of Melanie and what might be going on. Eventually she drifted into a fitful sleep, only to be woken by an early morning call into work.

…

Three days later she headed to Melanie Carrey's home address with the social worker who had been assigned to the case. She had managed to convince the young woman to let her tag along. Melanie had called her every night since that first call and she had come to expect the late night calls. She was still no closer to finding out what was going on and she hoped that by turning up at Melanie's house, she would prove to the girl that she really did want to help her and finally be able to persuade her to talk.

She hadn't been expecting to find the situation she did. The family home was in great condition, tidy and modern, well-furnished and very homely looking. The kitchen cupboards were filled with mostly healthy food. A quick sweeping inspection of Melanie's bedroom upon her invitation revealed a normal teenage girl's room. There were posters of her idols on the walls; she had plenty of books and games and an array of beautiful teddy bears, which Olivia suspected were more a collector's item than toys. It was any girl's dream room, Olivia thought. There was no doubt that Melanie was well provided for. Of course that didn't rule out something untoward was going on, but there was just something about the place which felt right. For the first time Olivia wondered if there really was anything wrong here or whether it was just a bit of harmless attention seeking.

Her Mother was smartly dressed and exceptionally welcoming. She insisted on them all sitting down for tea and homemade cake and quickly proved herself to be an expert conversationalist. When the conversation turned to Melanie and her welfare, her mother explained how they had unfortunately had to move around a fair bit and that her daughter had found it hard making new friends and still hadn't settled into her new school yet. Given the mother's friendly and open attitude, Olivia mentioned that Melanie had been calling her to talk and that they had wanted to come and check everything was okay. Her mother sighed sadly and said she had been worried about her not making friends as quickly at this new school and that it explained why she had been so receptive when Olivia had offered her some attention.

"Do you mind if I have a quick word with Melanie alone?" Olivia had asked.

"Not at all!" her mother had agreed instantly. There was nothing at all suspicious to make Olivia think anything untoward was going on, but she still wanted to talk to Melanie to make sure.

They headed to Melanie's room.

"Do you want to see my doll collection?" Melanie asked as soon as they entered the room.

"You collect dolls too?" Olivia asked.

"Yes."

"I'd love to, but maybe some other time. I thought we could chat a little."

"Sure," Melanie said congenially, seating herself on her bed and looking at Olivia expectantly.

"Do you trust me, Melanie?" Olivia asked suddenly.

"Yes," she replied, nodding as she spoke.

"Have you been calling me because you've been feeling a little lonely?"

Melanie looked down, refusing to meet Olivia's gaze, making her wonder if she had hit the nail on the head.

"It's OK, Melanie. Everyone gets lonely sometimes."

"They do?" she asked flatly.

"Yes. They do," Olivia replied. "You'll make friends. It just takes time sometimes."

"Right," Melanie said unenthusiastically. Olivia sensed she had withdrawn slightly. Maybe she was embarrassed? Admitting you had no friends wasn't an easy thing to do, for anyone, let alone a sensitive teenager.

"Just give it time," Olivia said.

Melanie didn't reply and there was an awkward silence. Olivia decided to end the conversation and headed back to the living room where Melanie's mother and the social worker were chattering and laughing together as they waited.

It was a relief to find nothing untoward, Olivia thought as they drove away. Going by some of the cases she had encountered during her years with the SVU, things could have been terribly different. Melanie Carrey seemed well cared for and her mother was the kind of person Olivia wished her own mother had been like. She just seemed a decent person.

After the visit, Olivia had expected the calls to stop, so was surprised to receive another one that same night. Having satisfied herself that the girl was just temporarily struggling with making new friends and reaching out through loneliness, Olivia thought it would probably be in her best interests to withdraw a little to hopefully encourage her to focus on making friends of her own age.

"You know, it's very late, Melanie," she said. "You should be sleeping and I have work in the morning. You know I don't mind chatting, but maybe you shouldn't call so much."

There was no response and after several seconds Olivia wondered if Melanie had gone.

"Melanie, are you still there?" she asked. She hadn't wanted to upset the girl. She was trying to act in her best interest.

"Yes," the small voice replied.

"You'll make friends. It'll be okay," Olivia reassured her.

"I thought you were my friend."

"I am, but I'm so much older than you. You need friends your own age."

"No, I don't. What difference does age make?"

"Melanie, please. It's late."

"What if I told you… what if I told you I'm being molested."

Olivia sighed.

"Are you?" she asked seriously.

There was no reply.

"Melanie. Listen, my job is to help children who are in real trouble. If you tell me you are hurting like that when really you are not, I'd be wasting time investigating your case rather than helping someone who really does need my help."

There was still no reply.

"Melanie. Listen to me. I want to be your friend. If there is ever anything you need help with, then you can call me, okay? But you can't make things like that up, alright? Do you understand?

"Yes," came the subdued reply. "I'm sorry Olivia."

"It's okay."

"I'd better get some sleep."

"Good night Melanie."

"Goodnight Olivia."

The calls stopped after that.

Just over a week later, Melanie was discovered lifeless in her bed.

Two days after that, Cragen called Olivia into his office and informed her that the coroner had confirmed that Melanie Carrey had committed suicide.


	3. Chapter 3

3

She pressed the buzzer and waited. A few seconds later she heard the sound of someone unlocking the door and hoped desperately it would be him. Unfortunately she could kind of make out the female form through the opaque glass at the top of the door.

"Olivia!" Kathy exclaimed understandably surprised to see her husband's partner standing there, not least because she couldn't actually remember the last time she had turned up randomly like this.

"Has something happened?" Kathy asked, the colour simultaneously fading from her cheeks. "Is Elliot OK?"

"So he's not here?" Olivia sighed. It made sense. Of course he would be at work at this time of day. What had she been thinking? She felt bad for worrying Kathy as she obviously had but at the same time, if something had actually happened to Elliot on the job, she surely must know she would be afforded a more official response than this.

"Sorry to disturb you, I was just looking for Elliot," Olivia mumbled, now thoroughly regretting her decision to turn up here out of the blue. She knew that even though Kathy tried her best to be understanding of Elliot's close working relationship with his partner, she still found it difficult sometimes, which wasn't entirely surprising considering how much time they spent together. There were things Olivia knew about Elliot that Kathy never would and Olivia knew it must irk to know that someone else shared such an intimate and mostly hidden part of your partner's life.

"Haven't you spoken to him? He moved out a while ago." Kathy's tone was cold and it was this which surprised Olivia more than her words. There was finality to her tone. Olivia had been unaware that things had obviously gone pear-shaped again. She hardly knew what to say and found she was rendered speechless, just staring uncomfortably at Kathy, willing her brain to come up with something suitable to say that would sound sincere. To be honest, part of her had tired of the rollercoaster that was Elliot's marriage and she certainly had no desire to get involved. Kathy had asked for her help before and she had been more than a little uncomfortable with it.

"So I guess you hadn't heard!" Kathy said, breaking the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry, Kathy, I had no idea!" Olivia finally managed to say.

"I assumed you guys were in more frequent contact." Kathy's tone was accusatory. Olivia picked up on her meaning immediately. She was definitely implying that she thought there was a lot more between them than was actually the case.

Olivia's first reaction was defensive. She respected Elliot's marriage. She always had. There was no way she would ever do anything to jeopardise that and it angered her that Kathy might consider that she would.

"We're partners Kathy," she said. "That's all it's ever been! You of all people know that."

"I'm sorry, Olivia," she said, sounding truly apologetic and looking suitably embarrassed. "I know you are a good person. I didn't mean it. It's been a rough couple of months. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"It's okay," Olivia lied. The truth was that Kathy's assumption that her intentions weren't entirely honourable did hurt. She wasn't the first to have made the flippant accusation either. Most people who picked up on her and Elliot's close working relationship asked the question – even his own son had once. It was irritating that Kathy would think that, but still she could hardly blame the woman. She supposed she'd probably be jealous too if her other half spent the majority of his time with another woman.

"I'll give you his address," Kathy said, turning towards the telephone table behind her in the hallway. After a few seconds hunting through an address book in the drawer, she found the right page and scribbled the address down for Olivia.

"Thanks," Olivia mumbled, taking the paper awkwardly.

"You know he's got feelings for you, don't you?" Kathy said suddenly. She didn't seem angry any more, almost resigned. Olivia was horrified.

"Kathy, please. We're partners. That's all it's ever been. I promise." She meant what she was saying, but Kathy's words still scared her. It couldn't be true. Elliot had never given her any sign that he felt anything for her other than friendship. It had to be Kathy's jealousy making her say this, surely? She couldn't possibly be serious?

"Tell him I said hi," Kathy said, her tone revealing she was done with the conversation. "Bye Olivia." She added, closing the door behind her.

Olivia stood there for a few seconds, just staring at the closed door, before she slowly turned around and headed back towards the street. She'd have to call another cab as the one that had brought her here had long gone, but then she decided she would walk a little first. She needed to clear her head. Besides, it was still too early to reasonably expect Elliot to be home. Maybe she should walk around for a little while and then make her way over there. She was suddenly unsure though. Elliot hadn't mentioned he had moved out, so what if he got pissed off about her just turning up there? Perhaps she should call him first, something she should have done before she had come haring straight over here in a taxi, she decided.

She reached into her pocket and withdrew her phone. She smiled wryly as she looked up his number. He was number two – just after Cragen on her list. Just went to show how sad her life really was, she thought. She pressed the dial number key and waited.

"Hey Liv!" The familiar voice suddenly made her feel nervous as she remembered what Kathy had just told her.

"Hi El," she replied, falling silent as she struggled to find the words to explain why she needed to see him so badly without sounding like an idiot.

"Are you OK?" he asked. He sounded worried. Or was it her imagination?

"Yes," she reassured him quickly. Then she replied more honestly. "Well, no not really. I mean, I'm OK, just… look I really need to talk to you about something."

"What right now? It's a bit difficult this evening."

"Oh."

"I mean, if you're OK, can we leave it until tomorrow? Maybe we could get dinner or something? I'll call you after my shift."

"Erm,.. yeah… sure." Her disappointment was tangible. She could feel the tears pricking at her eyes. Then she heard the female voice in the background. She couldn't make out the words, but the tone sounded exactly as though she were nagging Elliot to hurry up and get off the phone. She suddenly understood why he had blown her off. He was with another woman!

"I have to go," she whispered, fighting with all her strength to hold it together enough to end the call without letting him hear just how close to tears she was right now.

"Liv, are you sure you're ok?" he asked again.

"Yes," she replied quickly. We'll talk tomorrow, OK?"

"OK, sure."

"Bye." She hung up quickly, relieved the call was over and extremely glad she had decided to make it, rather than just go over there.

This was certainly a day of surprises, she thought as she replaced her phone in her pocket. On top of all the work-related drama, she had just found out that her partner had secretly moved out of his family home and now it appeared he was seeing another woman. She'd had enough of this day. She decided then that going home and sticking to her original plan of drowning her sorrows in alcohol was probably her best course of action after all, so she headed towards the main street and flagged down the first taxi she saw.

…

Back in her apartment she opened a fresh bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and sank down onto the sofa holding the glass tightly. What on earth was she going to do now? Her job was her whole life. Without it she had nothing. How could she face losing not only that but also Elliot? If they no longer had the job bringing them together, then realistically their friendship was unlikely to survive. Maybe it would for a short while, but then they'd get caught up in their busy lives and they'd gradually drift apart. The thought filled her with a profound sense of sadness she hadn't really expected to feel. It couldn't be helped though. It was time to move on from the special victims unit. She could request a less emotional department; maybe go back into computer crimes or something. Or maybe she should just give up the force altogether. Maybe it was really time to try something new and less stressful.

An hour slipped by, but she had only got through about a third of the bottle. After knocking back the first glass the alcohol had started to send her into an even deeper funk and she couldn't face drinking too fast. Beside, she already felt fairly drunk. She knew she probably should have eaten something, but she couldn't be bothered to stand and go to the kitchen to fix anything, so she stayed exactly where she was, sipping slowly at her wine.

She was still there when the doorbell rang. She ignored it. Then a few minutes later she heard insistent rapping on her main door. Whoever it was must have somehow got in the building, meaning they were obviously pretty keen on seeing her. She had no desire to see anyone, but she was curious to know who it was and also to let them know in no uncertain terms that if she didn't answer her doorbell it was obviously because she wasn't interested in having visitors.

She was surprised to see Elliot when she peered through the peephole. He was the last person she had been expecting it to be, although really when she thought about it, who else would come round to her place?

She opened the door just a crack, enough to be able to tell him to go away without needing to raise her voice to the extent that it would alert any of her neighbours to the fact.

"What are you doing here, El?" she ended up saying.

"Are you not going to invite me in?"

"No."

"Well that's charming," he said pushing forward anyway. Although to be completely accurate, she did step back and allow him room to come inside.

"I thought you were busy this evening," she said pointedly.

"I was, but we postponed our plans. I had to come and make sure you were OK. You sounded upset on the phone."

"I'm fine."

"You always are."

She headed back to her seat on the sofa, the wine suddenly appealing to her once more.

"How much have you had?" he asked, picking up the bottle from the coffee table and inspecting it.

"Only a couple of glasses," she said leaning forward and taking the bottle back from him and pointedly pouring more into her glass. He could be so infuriating sometimes. Who did he think he was monitoring her wine intake?

"What's going on, Liv," he said sinking down beside her on the sofa but not encroaching on her personal space, she was relieved to note.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What?"

"I went round to your place. I spoke to Kathy. She gave me your new address."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. See you don't tell me anything that's going on in your life, so why should I tell you what's going on in mine?" She knew it was a tad childish, but the wine had convinced her that right now she really didn't care. She took another large sip.

"You should slow down," he warned her.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you." He sounded genuine, but at the end of the day he had still kept it a secret. So much for friendship!

"Whatever," she said, feigning nonchalance.

"Don't be like that."

"Like what?"

"Maybe we should really do this tomorrow? You're obviously not in the mood to talk." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

"You noticed." She wondered why he didn't get to his feet.

Taking her by surprise he suddenly shifted and placed his hand on her shoulder. It was a friendly touch, but the jolt of electricity that shot through her body took her aback.

"Liv, talk to me. What's going on?"

"It was just a bad day at work," she admitted, wondering why she was attempting to play it down when the truth would have been to admit it had actually been one of the worst days of her life. She thought he probably knew it was more serious than she was insinuating. His hand stayed on her shoulder and it was hard to concentrate on anything else. She wished he would remove it, yet at the same time she dreaded that he actually would. It was a strange place to be.

"Tell me," he encouraged her.

"I fucked up, El. A girl is dead and it's my fault. She asked for my help and I basically told her I didn't believe her and she killed herself."

"You know it wouldn't have been your fault, Liv. She wouldn't have killed herself because of you."

"She reached out to me, El. I thought there was something up but when we investigated I believed her teachers and mother; that she was just having trouble settling into a new school. She hinted that she was being molested and I gave her a lecture about making things up to get attention! Can you believe that?"

"Was she?"

"Melinda found evidence that suggests she probably was."

"I'm so sorry, Liv. You can't blame yourself though. You know that. You didn't know."

"Why are you trying to console me? It's my fucking job to know. I'm supposed to be helping victims: not telling them I don't believe them."

"Look, I get it. Yeah maybe you made a mistake this time and unfortunately it resulted in a tragedy, but you're only human, Olivia."

"She was thirteen years old, for God's sake."

"Find her attacker! Get her justice!"

"I'm done with it."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't do it any longer, El. That's what I wanted to tell you. I'm handing in my papers."

"What?" he said shocked. This was much more serious than he had initially thought.

"Look, El. I'm tired. I really think I need to be on my own right now. Thanks for coming and everything."

"I'm not leaving you like this. You're upset."

"Just go, Elliot. I'm fine. I need some space."

"Liv…"

"Just fucking leave will you!" she suddenly spat frustrated. She was feeling way too emotional. Everything was just piling up and she wasn't sure how much more she could handle. His attempts to tell her she hadn't done anything wrong were just irritating her. She didn't want to be mollycoddled. She didn't deserve to be consoled.

"OK," he said. "Look, I'll respect that you need some space tonight, but I am coming over first thing in the morning to check on you, OK? Put the wine away though, Liv. Drinking isn't going to help."

"Fine," she acquiesced. Anything if it would get him to leave.

"If you change your mind and want to talk, call me," he said. "I'll come right over."

"Thanks," she said, genuinely touched that he did obviously care about her. After all, he had blown off a date to come and check she was OK. Maybe she was being a little too hard on him?

"I'm sorry, El," she said, her gaze falling downwards.

"Come here you!" he said, reaching for her. She allowed herself to fall into his embrace, her heart pounding as she felt his arms tighten around her. She was so close to just wanting to melt into him and the intensity of that feeling shook her to the core. She really couldn't do this though and quickly pulled away. She was so close to tears she was seconds from losing it. She stood and saw him to the door. He gave her one more worried glance before he stepped outside.

"Call me, okay?" he repeated.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Once he had left she finally allowed the tears to fall unchecked.


	4. Chapter 4

4

He was true to his word, turning up the next morning at eight on the dot. She wrapped a cardigan around her shoulders before answering the door, feeling slightly self-conscious about her state of dress.

"Morning!" he said cheerfully handing her a brown paper bag and a plastic cup of hot tea.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Thought you might like some breakfast," he said, grinning in that infuriating way he did. She knew it was a teasing dig. So what if she wasn't the most homely of people? She was barely in her apartment anyway – well until now that was.

"So how's the head?" he asked.

She sighed as the memories of the previous day flooded back. She was mortified at how close she had come to completely breaking down in front of him. She had to admit that she did have the beginnings of a headache and it was an acute reminder that wine on an empty stomach was never a good idea.

"Liv?" She jumped as his hand touched her arm. "Hey, it's just me," he said, withdrawing as he felt her tense.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"No, I'm sorry." He looked embarrassed.

"El, I…" She didn't know what to say. What was she supposed to say? That his touch made her quiver, not in the way he thought, but in a way that was more than inappropriate for partners? That the feel of his hand on her made her want to throw herself into his arms and never let go? The thought of his shocked rejection turned her stomach. In an attempt to focus on something other than the fact that she actually wanted his hands on her more than anything else in the world right now, she started to open the bag to see what he had brought and spied a bagel – from her favourite cafe.

"Thanks," she muttered. "This is really nice of you."

"You're welcome," he said, slightly subdued. She guessed her reaction to him touching her like that must have upset him. It was beyond awkward. They had never been overly physical with one another, just the odd shared hug when the occasion was extreme enough to warrant it. It was as though they needed the excuse of extenuating circumstances in order to justify making that contact. A random physical demonstration of affection was a lot to handle, especially at this time in the morning.

"I have to get going," he said.

"Yeah, I know," she replied. She knew he had work. Coming here had been a significant detour and she hoped it wouldn't make him too late.

"I would have come a bit earlier, but I thought anything before eight might not go down to well," he grinned.

"Yeah," she said, smiling back. Eight had been pushing it to be honest!

"Do you still want to get dinner tonight?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know… I…" Then she saw his face. Was that disappointment? "Well, I suppose I could."

"Great!" he said. "I'll contact you later and let you know what time I can get away."

"OK," she said. Going out was really the last thing she felt like doing, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She was touched at his concern for her.

"OK, I'll talk to you later."

Once he had gone her thoughts wandered back to the woman she had heard on the phone. She felt more than a little uncomfortable about the fact that Elliot was possibly blowing this woman off to see her. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck between another of Elliot's relationships.

…

He had ended up postponing dinner. A case had come in. It was the first time she had been on the receiving end of that situation and she suddenly felt bad for all those times she had let down a date due to her work commitments. She guessed Kathy knew this feeling all too well and she suddenly had a newfound respect for the woman. It can't have been easy being with Elliot all those years, she had to admit.

She was bored to death in her apartment all day and then she remembered the little bar she had visited the day before and the kind owner who had talked to her. Maybe she should pop back there and have a couple of drinks. It would be something to do while she waited for Elliot. She wouldn't normally think of going out drinking by herself, but this place was on the main road and the owner was decent enough. She decided to throw caution to the wind. Life was too short. She changed into a fresh pair of jeans, deliberated over which top to wear for a while before deciding on one in a simple pale pink that she decided made her look pretty without being too over the top. She had lingered over an old favourite she hadn't worn in a while. It was low cut, leaving little to the imagination and she was semi-tempted to wear it just to see what Elliot's reaction would be. In the end she decided against it though.

When she reached the bar it was still relatively early so the place wasn't too busy. There were a few customers and even though she had considered it a bit of a dive the first time she had gone there, she decided that in fact, judging by the clientele, perhaps it wasn't too bad after all. The owner, she remembered his name was Lawrence, was busy serving drinks so he didn't notice her properly until she approached the bar and sank into one of the bar stools.

"`fraid that one's taken!" he said without looking up.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologised. "Is this one free?"

"Olivia!" he said with a huge smile, directing her to a free stool. "You're back already! I wasn't expecting to see you so soon!"

"Well I have some unexpected time on my hands, so thought I'd pop in."

"Can I get you something?"

"Maybe a rum and coke…?"

"Coming right up…!"

He prepared the drink quickly and handed it over to her, placing it down in front of her.

"You waiting on someone?" he asked curiously, noting that she looked like she had more make-up on than the previous day.

"Just a friend… well a work-colleague really."

"Oh yeah," he said questioningly.

"Yeah," she confirmed, smiling. It was refreshing how easy this guy was to talk to. It was a pity he hadn't been blessed with slightly better looks, for he definitely wasn't her type in that sense, but she imagined he would make a great friend.

"So this er work _friend_," he emphasised the word comically, "I hope he didn't have anything to do with your mood yesterday."

"No," she replied.

"What is it you do exactly?"

She paused for a second. This was the point were things often changed. Not everyone was completely thrilled to learn of her profession.

"I'm a cop," she admitted. "Or at least I was."

"I guessed as much."

"You did, huh?"

"You cops have a certain air about you, you know?"

"Right."

"It's cool."

"Why thank you, Lawrence."

"You remembered my name!"

"I am a cop after all."

"You are," he said. "I'll be back in a sec."

She took a sip of her drink as he headed over to a beckoning customer. This place was getting busier. She watched Lawrence as he expertly prepared drinks, handing them over as quickly as he could, but with the increase in customers it was looking like it would be difficult for him to get away. She didn't really mind. She enjoyed listening to the way Lawrence interacted with his customers. It was obvious he was well-liked and the majority of them were regulars.

"So sorry," Lawrence apologised to her when he finally got a short break in orders. He had noticed she had almost finished her drink and brought her a fresh one.

"You should think about getting some help in here!" she suggested.

"Are you offering?"

"Ha!"

"Hey, I'm serious! You said you were having problems at work. Why not leave the stress behind you and come work here for a bit? It'd pay your bills while you think about what to do!"

"I don't know. I've never worked in a bar before."

"It's a doddle. I know people might not think it's much of a job, compared to say a heart surgeon or something, but you know what this place has going for it? The people! I love it. I get to meet people from all walks of life."

"Look, I still don't know, but I'm flattered at the offer."

"Just say you'll think about it. It would be great for business having a good-looking chick like you at the bar."

"The last thing I need is dealing with lecherous old men," she said. She'd had enough of them in the SVU.

"Nothing like that is tolerated in my bar!" he said with surprising sincerity. "Any trouble and the customer is out and for good!"

"Fine, I'll think about it," she agreed, smiling at his persistence. It wasn't really something she could imagine doing, but maybe it would be interesting to do something a little 'out there' for a change.

"You want another one?" he asked. She looked down in surprise at her nearly empty glass. She had been subconsciously sipping away at it and hadn't realised she had been drinking quite that fast.

…

A short while later she heard someone approach her saying her name.

"Hi El," she said, turning round to smile at him. She knew the alcohol had hit her hard. She could feel her cheeks flushed red and her senses felt dulled slightly. So much for not drinking on an empty stomach, she thought.

"Are you ready?" Elliot asked, eyeing her warily.

"Come on, don't be such a party-pooper," she teased, poking him in the chest with an accusatory finger. "Sit down! Have a drink!"

"Liv, I'm starved. Let's go and get some food. God knows you could do with it"

"Fine," she said, choosing to ignore his last muttered comment, even though it irked her.

"Let me finish my drink first though," she slurred.

"I think you've had enough!" Elliot said firmly. "Come on." He turned to Lawrence. "How much does she owe?"

"It's on the house, pending her decision," he replied.

"What decision?" Elliot asked bemused.

"Lawrence has offered me a job!" she exclaimed proudly.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"No, actually," she said indignantly. "I'm seriously considering it."

"Like hell you are Olivia!" he said.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" she said angrily. "You have no right to try and run my life."

"Well someone needs to, obviously. Look at you! You're drunk in a random bar alone. That's hardly the action of someone in their right mind, is it?"

"You know what, you can just fuck off!" she said, now thoroughly incensed at his smug attitude.

"Olivia, come on!" he instructed her deepening his voice slightly. "Let's talk about this outside."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Olivia, please. Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Let's just go OK?"

"Lawrence!" she called out to the man who in the course of their argument had stepped to the side to serve another waiting customer. "I've made my decision and it's 'yes'. Yes I'll work here."

"Olivia, please. Think about this," Elliot begged. "Come on, you've been drinking. At least make this decision properly, in the morning, when you're sober!"

"Elliot, just go home, okay!"

"Liv, come on!" Elliot said grabbing her arm to lead her outside. She yelped in exaggerated surprise. Elliot had to admit he might have been a little rougher than he intended. Immediately Lawrence stepped over.

"Is this guy giving you trouble?" he asked Olivia, glaring at Elliot.

"Yes," she said fixing Elliot with an angry stare.

"Fine," Elliot snapped. "Fucking stay here, get drunk. See if I care! You are doing this to yourself Olivia!"

Olivia watched him storm out of the bar in shock. Despite the argument, she hadn't been expecting him to actually go and leave her there alone like that. She supposed it was to be expected though. Everyone in her life left eventually. She didn't need him anyway. He had some girlfriend he was keeping secret from her, so let him run home to her. She could look after herself.

"You OK?" Lawrence asked her.

The alcohol was suddenly making her feel nauseous. She wondered if perhaps he had been a little too generous with the rum measurements. She really couldn't take her drink that well, despite the tough image she knew she gave off.

"I need to go home," she said shakily.

"Let me call you a taxi."

"No, it's still early and I don't live far. I'll walk."

"I don't think that's a very good idea…"

"I'll be fine. I'm a cop, remember!"

"If you say so," he shrugged. "Look, write down your phone number for me. I'll call you about the bar job, okay?"

Outside on the street, the air was cool and it was already dark. She was suddenly hit with a huge pang of regret. What the hell had she been thinking? Why oh why had she allowed herself to drink so much? She could only recall having three drinks. She shouldn't be this wasted surely? Maybe she had in fact had more but forgotten? She didn't even know how much she had spent since Lawrence had refused any money for the drinks, so she couldn't even work out how many she had had from that.

She started in the direction of home, surprised at just how wobbly she felt. Then she spied the car across the street and recognised it immediately. The son of a bitch had been waiting for her and was now following her home. She was partly pleased that he was still looking out for her, but she was still pissed at him for talking to her the way he had. So she pretended she hadn't noticed he was there and carried on walking. She had to admit though, that she was comforted by his presence. Walking the dark streets was actually more daunting than she would ever let on. She had seen enough horrifying cases to give her plenty of imaginary scenarios about the types of trouble she could get into, especially as a lone and drunk woman, out walking at this time of night. Despite everything, she knew she was glad he was there.


	5. Chapter 5

5

She paused outside her apartment block and turned to look back to see if he was still following her. Her intention was to be discrete but she guessed he had probably seen her looking back at him. He had pulled up and was obviously intending to wait until she was safely inside. She fumbled for her key. It had disappeared into the depths of her bag, but to be honest there was another reason causing her to hesitate. She had been looking forward to seeing him all day and hadn't wanted things to end up like this. Maybe it was the alcohol lowering her defences or something, but a feeling of loneliness suddenly enveloped her, closely followed by guilt. Elliot had followed her home despite the horrible way she had treated him. He was a good man. She knew she owed him an apology.

So she found herself heading towards his car. As she approached he wound down the window slightly. She tried the handle but the door was locked.

"El, please," she said, all of the previous antagonism gone from her voice.

She heard the clicking of the central locking and she opened the door and slipped inside. He didn't say a word.

"I'm sorry," she said, subdued. She kept her gaze down. He looked and smelled so good. It was hard to keep the thoughts out of her mind; of what it would be like if he just reached over and kissed her right now, how it would feel to have their bodies pressed up close, how his hands would feel exploring her body…

"This isn't like you Liv."

His words hit home. He was right. Sitting fantasising about her partner was surely wrong.

"El, I… I'm really sorry." She found herself just repeating her previous apology. _Why was she finding it so difficult to just talk to him and tell him the truth?_

"It's OK," he said resignedly. "I know you're upset. It's just, you know, honestly, I was looking forward to going out and having a nice meal and I turned up and you were in that state. It was… well… disappointing I guess."

"I was looking forward to it too," she said quietly. "I don't know what happened. I didn't intend to drink that much."

"I don't think I've ever seen you like that before."

"I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologising. It's OK, really. I'm just worried about you."

Feeling terrible again and not wanting him to see the tears now bathing her eyes, she turned her head, looking out of the window but staring at nothing in particular.

"Liv, you don't have to hide from me." He spoke quietly, but there was something genuine in his tone that reached her; it was almost as though he were pleading with her to trust him and open up to him and she suddenly wanted to.

So slowly she turned her head and let him see her now damp cheeks.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, El," she said desperately. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut didn't prevent the tears from falling.

"Hey, it's going to be alright," he said, unhooking his seatbelt. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her in to him for a hug as best as he could, given their location.

They stayed like that for some time. After a while she had stopped crying but really didn't want to pull away and so she kept her face buried in his chest and he continued to make the gentle soothing circles on her back. She had to admit that getting drunk did have its advantages, for if she hadn't, she probably would have pulled away long before, embarrassed. The only trouble was the alcohol had also made her sleepy and it felt so warm and comforting being there in his arms that she found herself involuntarily being pulled towards sleep.

"Hey, Liv," she heard him say as he shook her gently. "You should get some proper sleep. Come on. Let's get you home."

"Do we have to move?"

"Yes, unless you want to sleep in the car all night."

"Mmm," she murmured. Right now she could think of worse alternatives.

"Liv, come on, wake up. I can't carry you."

"OK, OK. I'm awake," she said reluctantly, rubbing her eyes.

Elliot jumped out of the car and hurried round to her side and opened the door for her. When she stood, she noticed that although sleepy, she was a lot steadier on her feet and guessed she had sobered up considerably. It made her wonder exactly how much time had passed since she had got in the car. She wasn't entirely certain, but she suspected it might have been a while.

"I'll be alright, El," she told him. She didn't really want him to leave, but she knew that the second she lay down she would fall asleep and so inviting him up seemed a little silly if that were the case.

"I'll see you to your door," he insisted.

She located her keys and opened the door, slipping halfway inside before turning back around and both apologising and thanking him once again.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he told her before wishing her a good night. Then she slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

…

She awoke the next morning at a little past six at the sound of her phone ringing. As she sat upright to answer it, wondering why on earth Elliot would be calling her on her landline at this unearthly hour, she quickly realised that her head was pounding worse than anything she had experienced in a long while. She almost picked up with the intention of pointedly slamming the phone back down straight away, but remembering how understanding Elliot had been the night before and how she was determined not to do anything to potentially ruin things, she instead pressed the receiver to her ear. She was surprised at the gruffness of her own voice. There was no response. It seemed more than a little ironic that the one day she woke with the worst hangover she'd suffered in a while, a prank caller would choose her, but such was life, she supposed and so she hung up, debating whether to unplug the damn phone completely.

Now she was awake, she decided she may as well get up. She made it as far as the kitchen to grab a cup of tea, before she decided that getting up and moving around had been a very bad idea, as she could now add nausea to the list of unpleasant sensations she was experiencing right now. It paled into insignificance compared to the intense embarrassment she felt about getting so drunk and losing control like she had though. Her memories felt fuzzy, but she clearly remembered the fight with Elliot in the bar and she remembered him comforting her in his car after she had walked home. She also remembered accepting Lawrence's job offer to work in his bar. She had no idea what she was going to do about that.

One thing at a time though. For now, she was going to return to her bed, curl up and try to will away the hangover symptoms.

…

Four hours later the headache was worse, if that were even possible. She hated being confined to her bed and wasting the day, but the idea of moving was unfathomable. At least the nausea hadn't developed into full-blown vomiting. She suspected it was her head making her feel nauseous more than the actual hangover itself. For about the fiftieth time that morning she swore she would never touch another drop again.

When the door bell rang, she ignored it. Maybe it was Elliot, maybe it was her landlord coming to collect the rent she knew was due? Whatever, there was no way she was moving. Then her cell phone rang and she saw Elliot's name flash up. Summoning up the strength, she pressed the answer call button.

"Liv, I'm outside. Are you OK? Can I come up?"

"I'm not feeling too good, El," she replied miserably.

"I won't stay long. I just wanted to make sure you're OK."

"Thanks. I'll be fine. Just this damn headache…"

"Do you need anything? I have time to swing by the store if you do."

"No, I'm good. Thanks though."

"You're welcome. Maybe I should come back later?"

"Yeah, that would be better. I'm sorry. I just need to sleep this off."

"I'll call by this evening then."

"Thanks."

…

Luckily by mid-afternoon her headache had eased significantly and she finally felt up to showering and throwing on some clothes and fixing herself something simple to eat.

Lawrence called her just as she was finishing up clearing away the dishes. She sighed inwardly as he immediately launched into a detailed explanation of the hours and pay system. The basic wage wasn't overly generous but he seemed to think she would make a significant amount on tips. When she finally got a word in edgeways, she explained that she was still technically employed by the police department and that she would have to go through the resignation process before she could promise to take on another job. Besides, she hadn't actually decided what to do. She apologised for her drunken state the night before and for saying she would definitely work there when there was much to sort out before she could actually answer that question.

Lawrence to his credit didn't seem too annoyed at her for misleading him and instead told her not to worry about it and to take her time and that the job would still be there when she was ready. She thanked him and after a little more general and unrelated chit-chat the call ended. The call reinforced the fact that she liked him. He made her laugh and he was so easy to talk to. It was a shame she had sworn off alcohol, she thought, for she would like to chat to him again sometimes. Maybe she could go along during a quiet time and just have a soft drink or something?

Elliot called not long after that and arranged to come over with pizza. The way Elliot had been so attentive over the last couple of days was disconcerting. She wasn't sure what it all meant. She wondered if she should broach the subject of this mystery woman and see what was going on. He was probably just worried about her due to her erratic behaviour though. He was right: drunkenness and crying on his shoulder certainly weren't synonymous with her usual character. He was just looking out for his partner and his friend. It would be silly to read too much into his concern… yet she couldn't help but do so.

She decided to tidy up a little, while she waited. She had a whole basket of laundry begging for her attention, so she busied herself with that, even dragging out the ironing board to attempt to tackle the stack of clothes she had thrown in the 'to-iron' pile behind her sofa that she rarely had time to touch. By the time he arrived, she was pleased to have nearly emptied it.

"How are you feeling?" was the first thing out of his mouth when she let him in.

"The hangover's much better," she said.

"Good. How about _you_?" She understood his meaning.

"I'm a bit embarrassed to be honest," she said, remembering once again how she had cried in his arms like a baby. "Once again, I'm sorry for last night."

"I told you to stop apologising. It's really fine. Come on. The pizza will get cold!"

She gestured over to the coffee table in front of the couch where she had prepared a couple of plates.

"Do we really need those?" he chuckled, plonking himself down close beside her and placing the pizza box so that it was evenly spread over both of their laps.

"I guess not," she said, smiling.

Her appetite having returned, they quickly polished off the pizza. She had put on a random comedy show. It was pretty funny and it was great to spend some time enjoying something light-hearted. Once it was over though, the mood quickly turned serious again when Elliot brought back up the whole subject of her future career.

"So are you really leaving the SVU?"

"I think I am," she replied slowly, leaning back against the cushion on the sofa. "I've really had enough of it."

"It won't be the same without you."

"You never know, your new partner may be younger and cuter," she joked, kind of hoping he would say something to protest the mere possibility of such a case.

"You have to do what's right for you," was all he said however and she tried not to let the disappointment she felt show on her face.

"Lawrence phoned me this afternoon."

"Oh yeah. What did you tell him?"

"I apologised for last night and explained that I had to sort out things with my current job and take some time to think about what to do."

"Good."

"It wasn't really that ridiculous an idea though, El. He seems like a decent guy. It might be fun for a couple of months."

"Maybe," he acceded. "I just didn't want you making decisions while drunk that you'd later regret."

"I know."

"Look, I'm sorry too. I know I was a little harsh the way I spoke to you, but like I said last night, I was just disappointed about dinner. I didn't really mean it the way it came out."

"You have nothing to apologise for. I was acting like an idiot and you were just looking out for me."

Then he said it: the thing that cemented it in her mind and convinced her that she needed to do her best to try and move on.

"That's what partners do."

After all, that's all they ever had been. Partners. Nothing more.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Once again - I'm snowed under with work and so I apologise for not writing and posting as often as I would like to. The only good thing, is that I have to drive a lot between jobs and it's while driving that I think of plots for my stories. I originally planned this one out, but I've been tweaking it as I go along. I hope you like the direction this is going in... I think my title choice may become clearer now with this chapter.  
Thanks as always for the responses. They inspire me to keep posting.**

6

_Three months later_

She pulled her jersey over her head, shivering slightly. There had been a report on the local news the other day, claiming that this was the coldest February New York had suffered in years and she could well believe it. She picked up her phone, glancing at it quickly, more out of habit than anything else. She wasn't really expecting him to have contacted her. She had been right about one thing. Her leaving the SVU had definitely negatively affected their friendship in her view. He was so wrapped up in the job and of course he had his family too. She had expected it, but she missed him all the same. She tapped out a brief text message, asking him how he was doing and if he fancied meeting up for a long overdue movie night. The last few weeks he had been working so much overtime and with her shifts at the bar it had been impossible to arrange a mutually convenient time.

She shoved her phone into her bag once she had sent the message and grabbed her thick winter coat in preparation for the short walk to Lawrence's bar. She had been working there for the last couple of months and had found it surprisingly refreshing to do something more "normal" than dealing with the kinds of scumbags she was used to in her job at the SVU. For now she was happy to continue working at the bar, although she had to admit she had started to get a little restless and was beginning to think about looking into some more permanent work options soon. The ringing of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts and knowing she had a few minutes to spare, she answered. It was Lawrence reminding her to bring the CD she had promised to lend him. She had completely forgotten and apologised, shoving it into her bag mid-call before leaving.

"Sorry. It completely slipped my mind," she said, handing it over to him almost as soon as she arrived. They had been talking the other night and he had mentioned that he was bored with the music he normally listened to and wanted some recommendations from her. She had been surprised for she knew their tastes were quite different. As she handed him the CD, their fingers brushed and she awkwardly retracted her hand. It was a shame she didn't find Lawrence attractive. He was a decent man. There was just something about him that she really couldn't put her finger on that made her shy away. She wondered if it was actually anything more than the fact that he just wasn't Elliot and it made her feel a little guilty that she wasn't willing to even give Lawrence a chance.

Thankfully Lawrence didn't seem to have noticed her instinctive reaction to his touch. They got on well. He was so easy to talk to and he'd often call her up on days she wasn't working and they'd just chat about everything under the sun. It wasn't her fault that there was no physical attraction there. She had considered the idea of trying something with him, with the hope that those feelings might grow further down the line, but she decided it wouldn't be fair: she couldn't risk hurting him. It would be far worse to lead him on and then change her mind than never to go there in the first place.

She watched him disappear into the stockroom, from where another member of staff, Rita, a fairly new girl, was supposed to be fetching a couple of fresh bottles of spirits that had got low. She knew Lawrence was losing patience with his new employee. She was youngish, only twenty two, but she was also a bit of a feather head. She'd forget orders and prices, she couldn't add anything up without the till and she had also spilled more than her fair share of drinks, the worst time being a glass of red wine all over a customer's white fur coat. She was good with the customers though and she had a sweet nature.

Remembering that they needed a few more glasses, Olivia headed into the stockroom herself. As she entered she immediately picked up on the fact that Lawrence was verbally laying into Rita with a ferocity she had never seen from him before. He was standing with his hands on his hips threateningly, facing Rita who was a fraction away from literally cowering and he was angrily telling her that had she not got the cry-cleaning bill from the wine incident still to pay off she would be out the door without question. It was such a far cry from the way he seemed in front of her, that Olivia found herself frozen in shock for several seconds before she found her voice.

"Lawrence?"

He immediately spun around obviously embarrassed.

"Olivia!"

Rita took the opportunity to escape back out into the bar and Olivia was left staring at Lawrence uncomfortably.

"I don't know what came over me," he said finally. "I've been really stressed out lately, as you know." It was true he had told her all about the problems he had been having with his ex-wife who had started trying to limit visits with his daughter, apparently due to her not wishing to be inconvenienced by taking their daughter to and from the meeting points.

"She's a nice girl," Olivia said.

"I know, I know." Lawrence sighed heavily. "I was out of order. She is a frustrating as hell, but you're right. Yelling at her isn't the way to deal with it. I'll go and apologise to her right now. I feel terrible. I'm going to tell her I'll scrub the dry-cleaning deduction I was going to take from her wages."

"That may help." Olivia smiled. She had thought it had been a little bit harsh of him to be charging her in the first place. After all accidents happen in any workplace and in her opinion the employer should take some of the responsibility.

"I'm sorry you walked in on that Olivia. It's really not like me."

"I know," she agreed. She had always found him to be so easy-going.

…

Rita accepted the apology and cheered up considerably after hearing that her debt had been wiped. Things were back to normal in the bar and Olivia was glad. It had been very unpleasant and it was a relief to know that everything had been sorted out. Lawrence seemed to be back to his usual laid-back self and she decided that everyone was entitled to have a bad day. In fact it was comforting in a way to know that this guy was a human being just like everyone else. She had to admit his perpetual good mood had been a little disconcerting.

Later that night, during a ten minute break out the back, she remembered sending the message to Elliot and checked her phone. Happy to see that he had replied, she read it quickly. It turned out that he thought he would get away by ten thirty and asked her if she would mind if he popped along to the bar to see her. She wrote back that she would be happy to see him and that her shift ended at twelve, so if he wasn't too tired maybe they could go out for a pizza or something. His positive reply came almost instantly. She returned to her work in an even better mood with the prospect of seeing Elliot later.

Just before ten a noisy group of business men arrived, with the stream of orders completely taking Olivia's mind off the time and of Elliot's promise to come along later. The group were getting more and more rowdy. She was used to the usual banter in her new job. Men liked to flirt and pretend to chat her up and Lawrence always kept a watchful eye to make sure things didn't get too out of hand. Not that she needed a babysitter. She was perfectly capable of holding her own and Lawrence knew that. She could often see him chuckling from the other side of the bar when she put anyone who had gone slightly too far back in their place. Tonight was much the same. Except the group were drinking particularly heavily and Olivia was starting to feel a little uncomfortable at the direction the conversation had been turning.

She glanced over to where Lawrence was busy but he didn't notice her. She'd have to deal with this herself, she realised. She was completely unprepared for what happened next. As she leant over to reach for an empty glass, the guy to her left suddenly reached his hand towards her, cupping her breast and squeezing it before she realised what was happening.

"Hey!" she yelled, slapping his hand away and stepping back. "I should have you arrested!"

"For what?" the man scoffed.

"Indecent assault!" She spun around on hearing the familiar voice and locked eyes with Elliot, silently pleading with him not to make this into even more of a scene. She knew he was seconds from dragging the man outside by the scruff of his neck. The ruckus had finally brought Lawrence's attention and he also headed over to the table and immediately ordered the entire group to leave the premises and told the man who had touched Olivia that he wouldn't be welcome back here again.

Once they had left, Olivia realised she was shaking.

"Are you OK?" both Lawrence and Elliot asked her simultaneously.

"Yes. I think it's just the adrenaline," she said, embarrassed that she was showing just how much the incident had affected her.

"Take the rest of the night off, Liv," Lawrence offered. Elliot couldn't help tensing on hearing the familiarity with which Lawrence used her nickname, the name he used for her.

"But it's so busy in here," she protested.

"It's not so bad now that that group has gone. Honestly, we'll be fine. Go and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Well if you're sure."

Lawrence nodded and headed back towards the bar. Olivia slipped out the back quickly to grab her things and then they headed back to her apartment, having decided to call for a pizza rather than get one out.

"It worries me, you working in that bar," Elliot said once inside. She supposed that had something to do with the reason he had been so unusually quiet the whole way home.

"El, please. I'm a big girl."

Come off it, Liv. I know what happened tonight upset you. I know you're probably remembering Sealview as a result of it and I know that even if you don't show it, it got to you."

"Elliot, please. It was a drunk who grabbed at my breast. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of it?"

"Why can't you just be honest with me? Why do you refuse to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"Sealview, Olivia."

"Why are you bringing that up now?"

"Do you know what it was like to sit back and watch you struggle to cope with that and to have you push me away and not let me help you? I was your partner Liv, but you didn't trust me."

"It wasn't about trust."

"Then what was it about?" He looked at her, desperately hoping for an answer, terrified she would clam up like she usually did. "Liv! Please!" he begged.

"I didn't want you thinking I couldn't do my job any more, okay?" she snapped angrily.

"I didn't think that," he whispered sadly. "I would never think that. You were one of the most capable detectives I have ever worked with. I just wish you had talked to me."

"Do we really have to do this now?"

"No, I guess not. Not if you don't want to."

She looked at him sharply. He seemed crestfallen. She hadn't really thought too much about how he might have felt after the incident. For the first time she supposed that had it been the other way round and he had suffered some kind of traumatic incident on the job and refused to talk to her about it, she might feel the same way.

"I'm sorry, El," she said. "It's just hard for me to talk about, even now."

"Liv, there's something I need to tell you."

"What?" she asked curiously. His tone was serious enough that she was convinced he was going to tell her the world was ending or something.

"I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to come right out with it, okay."

"For goodness sake, El, what is it?"

"We heard news today that Lowell Harris is being released early."

"What?" Her face paled as she tried to process his words.

"It seems he had information on another prisoner and made some kind of deal which resulted in him being released early in exchange for his testimony."

"You have to be joking! When?"

"Maybe as early as next week."

She sank back heavily into the sofa, a confused expression on her face.

"And you think he might come after me?"

"No, Liv. I don't. It's true that he probably has a grudge against you, but everyone involved in his case believes he is savvy enough to know that coming after you is a bad idea."

"You don't know that," she said shakily. "Who knows what that bastard is thinking?"

"I really don't think you have anything to worry about, but I knew you'd want to know."

"That's why you don't like me working in the bar, isn't it?" she asked suddenly.

"I don't like you working there anyway. I really don't think Harris will be an issue, but what about that creep tonight? What about others like him? It's not safe, Liv."

"What and being an SVU detective was?"

"Well at least I had your back then and could keep an eye on you!" he said grinning.

"Right," she said smiling at his audacity.

"Seriously Liv though, I don't want you to worry at all about this. There haven't been any threats made. In fact he's been as good as gold in prison, desperate to be released as soon as possible. That's why I don't really believe you're in any danger. He wouldn't risk being sent back there and so will be on his best behaviour."

"That's no guarantee. It might just make him even more desperate."

"Look, I knew this would bring up lots of feelings. That's why I wished you felt comfortable talking about it with me about everything. I want to be here for you Olivia. I'm your friend."

"Thanks, El. I appreciate that."

"So you're not going to worry too much?"

"I'll try not to…"


	7. Chapter 7

7

_A week later_

"You know this is ridiculous, don't you?" she said, exasperated, stepping away from the door to go and finish touching up her make-up before her shift. For the last week he had been coming over to walk her down the road to the bar and while in some ways she thought it was sweet, it was now beginning to thoroughly piss her off. When had it changed from him thinking of her as a capable police detective to some silly woman who needed protecting on a short well-lit walk to work, down a busy street no less? By all accounts Harris had his head down and was determined not to risk any chance of being sent back to jail. It was extremely unlikely he would come after her and even if he did, she knew how to defend herself. It did sometimes worry her, the idea that he was out there, but she knew that was more to do with her own demons and not linked to any real current threat.

"How long are you going to continue doing this?" she asked impatiently as she patted at her lips with a tissue to remove the excess lipstick. "Don't you have better things to be doing?"

"Not really," he said good-naturedly, from the doorway to the bathroom, smiling with that infuriating grin of his as he watched her get ready.

"What about your girlfriend?" she snapped, frustrated that he wasn't taking the bait, but also a little irritated at the way he just invited himself into her personal space.

"We split up."

"You did?" This was news to her. "When?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

"Oh really and you didn't think to mention it?"

"I just did."

"You're an ass. Look, I'm busy. I have to get to work. I don't need you coming by to walk me any more. I'm fine really. Lawrence has my back too."

"Oh well that's reassuring! Thank goodness for that!" he said sarcastically.

"What is your problem?" Elliot had made it more than plain that he wasn't Lawrence's biggest fan, but she truly had no idea why he had taken such a dislike to him.

"Oh come off it, Liv. He's full of shit."

"I'm not even having this conversation with you, Elliot. Just go home, would you?"

Finally finished with her make-up, she spun round to leave the bathroom. Elliot was still standing in the doorway, blocking her way. Irritated, she made to push past him, just at the same moment he chose to change positions himself and as a result she collided into him, lost her balanced and stumbled. He reached out to steady her and so she found herself in the clichéd position of having literally fallen into his arms. Her cheeks flushed and she wasn't certain if it was anger, embarrassment or something else entirely. She immediately tried to pull away, but instead his arms tightened and so she stopped struggling, instead glaring at him furiously.

"What are you doing?" she asked indignantly, but before she could say anything further, he leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. Completely taken aback, she stared at him flabbergasted. What the hell was he doing? She was too furious with him to think straight. She pulled herself out of his grasp and headed over to where she had left her purse and keys on the dining table.

"Liv?" he asked. He sounded almost nervous. Part of her wanted to return to that position in his arms and repeat the kiss, but she suspected he was just playing some kind of power game or something. It hadn't exactly been a passionate kiss. It was more like something you'd expect between friends or maybe even family. True, it had been on her lips, but it had just been a peck. Sometimes she wondered how he could possibly have no clue what this kind of thing was doing to her. Teasing her with a kiss like that should be written up in the torture books.

"Elliot, I'm going to be late," was all she managed to say. Her mind was racing.

"Yeah, Liv, I'm sorry," he said. She ignored him. He followed her over to the main door and slipped through first, pausing as she exited right behind him and locked the door securely behind them.

"Are you mad with me?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied crossly. Then she softened. "Look, I need to get to work. You really don't need to walk me any more, okay?"

"Okay, if that's what you want."

"It is."

…

It was a quiet night, drink orders were sporadic and so she found she had plenty of time to think about what had happened in her apartment. Part of her was desperate to believe that he meant something more by that peck, but the years of well-practiced self-defence mechanisms kicked in and she convinced herself that he hadn't meant anything by it. Besides, even if he had meant something, he had just split up with his supposed girlfriend after a relatively recent end to his marriage. If that didn't scream out 'rebound' she wasn't sure what would. There was absolutely no way she was willing to play that role. No, if he wanted a relationship with her, then he would have to work for it, sit down and actually tell her how he felt. She wasn't interested in a 'bit of fun' or a 'one night stand'. She definitely wasn't going to risk their friendship over something meaningless.

She sighed. Why did he have to go and kiss her like that? Things were good between them. They were getting on well mostly. Well, apart from the walking her to and from work thing anyway. They had been hanging out and mostly enjoying it. It was true they argued, but it was part of the way they had always interacted. The arguments were comforting in a way. It meant everything was normal.

"Hey, Liv… you with us?"

She spun round at Lawrence's voice as it penetrated her brain and she quickly realised it obviously wasn't the first thing he had said to her.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. "I was miles away!"

"Obviously. Is something up?"

"No, just thinking. What do you need?"

"We need some more Cointreau out of the stockroom."

"Sure…"

She headed out the back and found the liquor bottle quickly.

"Quiet tonight, isn't it?" Lawrence said from the doorway, startling her. She wondered why he couldn't have just gone and got the bottle himself, if he was just going to stand there anyway. It was one of the more annoying aspects of working for someone else in this kind of job, she decided.

"Maybe it'll pick up?" she said. They sometimes got a flurry of late night drinkers from some of the local firms where they often worked late.

"Liv, can I ask you something?"

She looked at him, nodding cautiously. He seemed awkward. In fact he looked like he was sweating. A sudden feeling of dread about what might potentially be coming, swept over her. What was with men today? She desperately hoped she was wrong. She really didn't want to be in the position of having to knock her boss back.

"Well, erm, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner sometime."

She inwardly cringed. Her instincts had been correct. The one good thing was that at least he had come straight to the point and not drawn it out. She took a slow deep breath before she replied.

"Look, Lawrence. I like you. You're a great guy and I'd love to do dinner with you sometime, only I have to be honest. I'm afraid I'm not interested in anything more than friendship."

"Oh. I see. I'm sorry." His gaze fell down and she could almost see his embarrassment coming off him in waves and she felt terrible.

"Lawrence, I'm sorry. I really do think you're a great person. It's just me I guess. I'm just not in a good place at the moment and just not looking for a relationship right now."

"It's OK, I get it. Although you know, you're hardly a spring chicken! Maybe you should just go for it sometime… you never know, you could end up being happy!"

She stared at him in shock. Had he really just said that? He had gone from asking her out to insulting her in a matter of seconds. It was a lot to take in. She had no idea how to respond. She had never felt so uncomfortable in her life.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Olivia, please, I'm really sorry. Forget I said anything?"

"Sure," she lied, deciding that now would be a good time to escape the confines of the stockroom and return to the bar where she could mull over the latest incident to occur on a day that was rapidly getting worse and worse. She glanced at her watch: another three hours until her shift ended.

…

The following morning she was woken by the doorbell, but her annoyance soon dissipated when she saw the reason: a delivery man handed her a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She reached for the card as soon as the man had gone, but it didn't say much, just "I'm sorry!" She smiled. It had to be Elliot. He hadn't contacted her since the kiss and she guessed he was probably feeling embarrassed over the incident. She was glad in a way that he hadn't called, for avoiding the issue of the kiss certainly made it a lot easier to deal with. That was a conversation she definitely didn't want. She transferred the flowers into a vase, taking a moment to breathe in the pleasant aroma. She couldn't remember the last time someone had bought her flowers. It was a shame they were an apology but she would happily take what she could get.

Reaching for her phone, she tapped out a very short message and sent it to Elliot, hoping that would be the end of the issue.

"It's OK. We're good :-)"


	8. Chapter 8

8

Elliot's invitation to dinner had put her in a good mood. It was her scheduled night off, so assuming Elliot could get away from work at a decent hour they would have the whole evening, a relative luxury. She had to admit she was nervous. The way he had impulsively kissed her in the bathroom like that a couple of weeks ago had played over and over in her head ever since it had happened and she had come to accept that it had to have meant something. Then there were the flowers, the phone calls, the mails and now it seemed he had booked a table for them in L`etoile, one of the more popular mid-range French restaurants in Manhattan, infamous amongst couples for its romantic atmosphere. The fact he was taking her there had to be significant, surely? She was both excited and full of trepidation. She had already accepted that the butterflies in her stomach would be a constant companion that day.

She didn't have much planned, although she knew she would have to spend some time hunting through her wardrobe to pick out the perfect outfit. There was no way she was turning up at L'Etoile dressed anything but her best. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone out on a date like this. Then she stopped herself, for it hadn't been fully established that this was actually one. Elliot was hard to read. It was even possible he could be trying to cheer her up after the devastating news that Harris was out of prison, having been officially released just over two weeks ago now. However much she pretended to act like it was all fine, it did play on her mind and she knew Elliot knew that.

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts and she answered, irritated to discover that once again it was a prank call. This was starting to get on her nerves now. She made a mental note to mention it to Elliot later and get him to get them to put a trace on her in-coming calls. She shuddered as the thought that maybe it wasn't just kids messing about, maybe it was _him _briefly entered her head. Despite trying to force the idea out of mind she still found herself instinctively heading nervously to the door and checking the locks, following this with a sweep of the windows in the living room, stopping short of checking her bedroom as she reminded herself how she specifically remembered closing the window the evening before as it had been chilly. She told herself that she was going to drive herself crazy carrying on like this.

Satisfied that everything was as it should be, she headed to the kitchen, switching on the radio. The silence was nerve-racking. She could feel her heart beating fast in her chest and she hated herself for reacting like this even now after all this time. She couldn't allow herself to let this set her back. She had always known he would eventually be released and it was something she'd have to deal with when the time came. He would have to be out of his mind to come anywhere near her after everything anyway, not least because Elliot would serve his balls on a plate if he did.

Now there was a thought that made her smile.

She decided to go and take a shower and try to put Harris out of her mind.

Once she had finished she headed to her bedroom and immediately felt the chill from the open window. Clutching the towel tightly around her body she nervously stepped over to it and closed it firmly. She could have sworn she had shut it last night. She shivered shaking her head at her own absent-mindedness. She glanced round the room. Everything seemed as it should be. She forced back the urge to reach for her gun locked away in her desk draw and told herself once again to get a grip. She grabbed some clothes so that she could get dressed in the living room where it was slightly warmer.

…

"Hey Marion," she said as soon as the older woman picked up. She had debated calling her before given her position at the parole office. They had met through work and hit it off several years ago although recently their paths hadn't crossed and it was now several months since they had last spoken.

"Olivia? Is that you? How are you?" the friendly woman asked, obviously surprised to be hearing from her so suddenly.

"I'm good thanks. Listen, I know this is sudden, but I was wondering if I could ask you a favour."

"Of course you can, but tell me first what's going on with you. I heard you left the force."

"Yeah, long story. We should grab a coffee sometime and I'll fill you in on the details."

"That would be great. What's this favour then?"

"Well I was hoping you could give me some information."

"Checking up on one of your old cases?"

"Something like that."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything you have on Lowell Harris."

"Olivia… I don't know. You know you shouldn't be asking me this."

"Please, Marion. No one will find out."

"Why do you have such an interest in him?"

"I promised his victim she would get justice and he would be locked away for a significant stretch, yet he got released this week, early. I need to just make sure that he is keeping his head down and doesn't pose a threat to anyone."

"He's being well monitored. You know that."

"Please, Marion, just tell me what you have on him."

Look, okay, fine. I'll find out what I can and get back to you, okay?"

"Thanks Marion."

Olivia hung up and sighed deeply. She felt bad for putting Marion on the spot like that, but she knew the only way she was going to feel safe was to keep an eye on Harris herself. She wasn't going to be taken in by his "good boy act" and was convinced it would only be a matter of time before he slipped up and she wanted to be ready when he did. It was easy enough to get his address from the publicly available sex offender's registry, but she wanted much more information than that. She wanted to know everything about the man, enough to predict his every move. He didn't deserve to walk the streets a free man and she was determined to do whatever she could to make sure he was put back behind bars as speedily as possible.

Elliot would be furious if he found out how much energy she was already putting into this. He would no doubt want her to stay as far away from Harris as she could get. She was aware that digging around into his life was potentially a risk, for it could draw his attention, but she couldn't just sit back and do nothing. This man had changed her forever and in her view he hadn't paid for it nearly enough. No, for now, this would stay her little secret. There was no need for Elliot to know just how much Harris was playing on her mind.

…

Marion called back later during her lunch break with the requested information on Harris. Olivia smiled as she jotted down the addresses of his place of work, his therapist and even the gym he had joined to work out at. Glancing at her watch and realizing she still had several hours to go before she needed to start getting ready for the evening, she decided to make use of the information already. The thought of actually seeing Harris again made her nervous, but she was certain that knowing exactly where he was and what he was doing would be much better than it being left to her imagination. She was determined to take control of the situation and not allow the bastard to win.

It appeared Harris had found a night guard job at a factory. It was something of a comfort to know that he worked nights, although that did unfortunately leave his days free. According to Marion he had proved himself a man of routine while in prison and it had been discussed that before his shift he would hit the gym for a couple of hours, usually from around three thirty in the afternoon, giving him time to return home to eat and change before his shift started at seven. Elliot was due to pick Olivia up at around half past six to head to the restaurant by seven, so she figured she had enough time to try and spot Harris going to the gym, confirm he was where he said he would be and then to head back and get ready in time for dinner with Elliot.

As she waited on a bench on the other side of the street across from the gym, she did briefly wonder if she hadn't in fact gone completely nuts. She was wearing a thick winter coat, the collar pulled up high around her neck, a hat that completely hid her face and hair and just for good measure she had picked up a newspaper at a stand and had spread it out on her lap thinking it would be perfect to hide behind should Harris happen to look her way. She felt like all she needed was a pipe and she'd be a character from Sherlock Holmes or something. She suddenly felt self-conscious as she realized her mistake. Who actually sat on a bench in the middle of winter reading a newspaper? The point of this was to not draw attention to her presence. She decided it would be much better to head towards the nearby bus stop instead. It was slightly further away, but it would look much less suspicious. She hoped dearly no buses would actually come past, seeming as she had no intention of actually using one.

She was rewarded by the sight of him arriving on his bicycle exactly at the time Marion had said he had informed the parole office he went. At least if he was a stickler to his daily routine, she could rest in the knowledge that during his working hours and scheduled gym hours women in New York, including her, were probably safe. She watched as his sleek outline disappeared inside the main building without even the slightest hint of a glance in her direction and she stood stiffly. Seeing him had hit her hard. She remembered with disgust the way he had pushed his body up hard against hers and she shuddered, instantly feeling dirty as she remembered his hands on her. The cold had seeped deep into her during the short time she had waited there virtually unmoving. She walked as briskly as she could back to the closest subway station, relieved to feel the warmth underground, trying desperately to force memories of Harris from her head.

When she arrived back at her apartment she was surprised to see a small basket waiting for her outside her door. Peering inside she realized it was a wrapped box of chocolates. Pleased but not completely certain who could have left them at that point, she reached for the note sticking out and opened it up.

"Change of plans for tonight! Meet you on the corner of 5th Ave and E 106th St. instead!"

Smiling, she carried the basket inside, placing it on the table and then reached for her phone.

"Thanks, El. See you there!" she wrote and pressed send. It was a strange place to meet, although admittedly closer to the restaurant than her apartment. She assumed he had something interesting planned but since she had no idea what, she turned her attention to getting herself ready.


	9. Chapter 9

9

She walked down the street as quickly as she feasibly could given she was in heels, with her arms wrapped around her upper body, holding her coat close to her. Men could be so thoughtless sometimes she decided. He had invited her out to a decent restaurant and then he expected her to walk to a random meeting point in a dress and heels in the middle of winter. Now add to that she was convinced she could feel the first drops of rain and she was starting to wonder if this whole thing really had been a good idea after all. She never should have agreed to the change in meeting place, but had been too caught up in the whole idea of this possibly being a date to really think about it properly. She bitterly regretted not insisting they keep to their original plan, one which would have kept her warm and comfortable, in his car.

It was also strange how just the week before he had insisted on walking her to work every night he was free and yet now he was seemingly perfectly at ease with her walking all this way alone along a route which took her past thick dark trees and was now starting to give her the jitters. As always when she walked, she was careful to keep an eye on her surroundings. She spied the man walking his dog across the street, watched warily as two youths headed towards her, relaxing only when she realized they were university students and were probably heading away from the library just down the road.

The dark row of trees on her left drew her attention. She couldn't help imagine how easy it would be for someone to hide in there, poised ready to jump out on an unsuspecting passer-by. However, she was ready. She was confident that she knew how to defend herself should anyone make the mistake of trying to take her on. The corner where she was supposed to be meeting Elliot was at last coming into view and the relief was tangible. It was hard not to imagine Harris hiding in the bushes, even though she was fairly confident he was safely at work right now, thanks to her earlier scrutiny of his movements.

When she reached the corner, she scanned the area, searching for Elliot, more than a little disappointed that she couldn't see him anywhere. Her nervousness was fast morphing into irritation. It was also more than a little upsetting that he obviously didn't seem to care enough about her safety and comfort, that leaving her standing on a dark corner for goodness knows how long, wasn't an issue for him. She reached into her bag to withdraw her phone, semi-tempted to tell him their night plans were off, but then she saw the flashing letting her know there was a message in her inbox. She opened it up.

"Really sorry, Liv, running a little late… be there as soon as I can. El. x"

Olivia sighed. She understood the nature of his job. What she didn't understand was why he had chosen this spot to meet. It didn't really make any sense.

…

Elliot listened impatiently as Cragen briefed them all on the latest developments on the Thane case. It was unfortunate that the Captain had come back late from a routine meeting at 1PP, resulting in the delayed briefing. Elliot glanced at his watch again. He had managed to sneak a quick message to Olivia, but he knew she would be disappointed. He hoped Cragen would wrap this up quickly so he could get going. He also hoped L'Etoile would keep hold of their reservation, for it was looking unlikely that they would make it there by seven. As soon as he finished up with the briefing he intended to call them and explain they were running late.

This was the aspect of the job that was so frustrating. It was never predictable and it was also no big surprise that the nature of the crimes they investigated meant that the majority of them took place at night or weekends – not exactly family or date friendly hours. Not for the first time, Elliot wondered whether he might not be better looking into a less demanding department in the near future. His personal life had already paid the price for his dedication to his job and now it looked like he was on track for the same thing to happen again with him and Olivia, even before things had even properly started.

He smiled as he thought of his feisty ex-partner. She was truly beautiful in his eyes, yet she seemed to have no idea of just how drawn in he was. Everything about her exuded both a confidence, yet an endearing vulnerability that just made him want to pull her in close to him and never let her go. Of course he wasn't overly convinced that she would be all that open to his desire to 'take care of her' and it was this that caused him to tread carefully. His feelings towards her ran deep and he knew that any kind of rejection from her would absolutely tear him apart. Although he would never admit it, the way things had gone with Kathy had completely knocked his confidence. He had been sure of his feelings towards Olivia for a while now, but the thought of her not returning them, combined with a slight twinge of guilt about how Kathy would feel when she found out about his new relationship with his ex-partner, had made him cautious.

Tonight was the night though. Life was too short to waste any more time, he had decided. Opening himself up to Olivia completely was a huge risk but he knew he would always regret it if he never took the chance. In a confident moment he would remind himself of all the little things that convinced him she might possibly feel the same way, but in a moment of negativity he would remember the kiss in the bathroom and how she had pulled away in surprise and he'd convince himself that all she wanted was friendship. He wasn't really sure what had come over him then. He had just been overwhelmed by the desire to place his lips to hers, but then had chickened out hurriedly making out as though it were just a friendly peck. No wonder she had pulled away confused. He probably would have done the same.

The mere thought of telling her how he felt about her made his stomach literally churn with nervous anticipation, but he knew he had to do this. He had no idea how to actually broach the subject. He was planning on ordering a nice bottle of wine, with the hope that the alcohol would somehow help. Even though they had worked together for so long, he found he really wasn't sure whether she liked romance or directness or even what level of flirtatious conversation she would deem appropriate for a date. These were subjects they had naturally avoided as work partners. They were certainly questions he was very willing to try and find the answers to. He hoped she would be wearing one of those amazing dresses he had occasionally seen her in when she was off out on a date with another man. Even back then he hadn't been able to help feeling jealous, even though he knew it was hardly fair, given the fact he was the one who was married.

Finally Cragen finished up and he was free to go. He rushed to his locker and quickly changed into his dinner suit. Just as he was closing his bag, he noticed Munch's looming presence.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" his nosy colleague asked, an inquisitive yet irritatingly knowing expression on his face.

"Nowhere," Elliot replied through clenched teeth. It seemed the universe was conspiring to make him as late as possible.

"You've got a date, haven't you? Who is she? Come on spill."

"Munch, look I'm already late. Just let it go."

"I knew it!" Elliot heard him exclaim, a satisfied expression no doubt on his face. However, Elliot was already out of the door.

As he sprinted down to his car, he reached into his pocket for his phone and saw that Olivia had replied to his sneaky message during the meeting.

"OK… Please hurry though. It's freezing out here."

That was strange. Was she waiting for him outside her apartment? Why on earth didn't she go back inside? It was spitting with rain and the wind was biting. What on earth was she thinking?

He hurried to her place, cursing the red lights on the way. It seemed that every single one was deliberately changing just for him. He briefly considered whipping out his portable siren, but decided against it, taking a deep breath instead. He was determined they would have a good evening. He needed to calm the fuck down if that was going to happen. Everything would work out.

When he reached her building he quickly scanned the area, relieved to see that she had obviously decided to be sensible and wait inside like any sane person surely would. He pulled up her name on his phone intending to give her a ring to let her know he was down here, but the line didn't connect, the electronic recording telling him that her phone must be out of range. That was odd. He suddenly feared that maybe she was more annoyed than he had anticipated at his tardiness. Surely not though. She understood better than anyone the nature of his job. He switched off the ignition and left the car, heading over to ring her doorbell. There was no reply. Confused and slightly hurt he stepped back slightly, hoping someone would exit the building, allowing him entry. Where could she be? Surely she wouldn't have stood him up?

Then his dejection changed to concern as suddenly apprehension washed over him. Could something have happened to her in her apartment? Remembering the key she had given him, he decided to use it. Her potential irritation at him invading her privacy would be a small price to play for ensuring her safety. He slipped the key into the lock and went inside. His concern only grew when he realized she wasn't in her apartment. He then remembered the message she had sent him about being freezing. Was it possible he had mixed up their meeting arrangements? He quickly scanned all his recent messages to and from her and reconfirmed that the arrangements had been for him to pick her up here.

His senses now on high alert he decided to make a quick sweep of her apartment, checking for anything out of the ordinary. It didn't take him long to spot the box of chocolates on the table. Chocolates in Olivia's apartment weren't exactly an unusual feature, but what got his attention was the wrapping. Wrapped chocolates meant they were a gift and immediately he wondered who had given them to her. He stepped closer and spotted the note telling her about the change of plans. Instantly the cold fear gripped his insides like a vice as he realized that she must have gone to this meeting place thinking it was him. He swallowed, trying to hold back the sudden and overwhelming desire to vomit.


	10. Chapter 10

10

As he hurried back down to his car he toyed with the idea of calling his Captain then and there, but decided against it. He decided that first he would hurry to the meeting point she had gone to and make sure she wasn't there. He could still be worrying over nothing. He desperately hoped that was the case. Once again the traffic lights seemed to be conspiring against him, but this time he felt justified in using his portable siren and he ran every light, reaching the corner at record speed. He was under no disillusion that there wouldn't be certain members of the internal affairs department eager to come down on him like a ton of bricks if they found out, but at that point he couldn't care less. The only thing he cared about was ensuring Olivia was ok. The thought of something untoward happening to her, filled him with dread that knotted his stomach and made him feel as though he could barely breathe. As soon as he arrived he leapt out of the car and frantically scanned the area. There was absolutely no sign of her. He tried her phone again and there was still nothing. It was then that he called Cragen, the sinking feeling settling into the pit of his stomach.

The reaction of the unit had been fast. They had canvassed the area quickly and discovered several people had noticed her standing there about forty five minutes ago. She had stood out since the evening was bitterly cold and she was relatively scantily clad. A couple had said they had seen her leaving with a man and not looking too happy about it either. Unfortunately no one had been forthcoming with a useful description, as he had been wearing a hat and coat and no one had got a good look at his face. They had cordoned off the area and the crime scenes unit was hard at work hunting for any clue at all that could tell them who she was with. Elliot insisted that if she had left with this man, he must have coerced her somehow, more than likely with a threat to her physical safety. His first assumption was that this man was armed and that his intentions weren't good.

Cragen watched Elliot nervously as he questioned the guy in the kiosk over the road. His detective was on the edge of losing it completely. He'd rarely seen him so worked up. Not that he didn't understand some of what he must be feeling right now. He was worried sick over Olivia's disappearance himself. He had always cared for his former star detective, even though her unquestioning loyalty to her partner had sometimes caused him considerable grief.

"Elliot!" he barked, indicating for the younger man to leave the poor kiosk owner alone and come over to him. He watched as Elliot stomped over, obviously furious and ready to take it out on whoever got in his way. Cragen laid a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm his impulsive detective down a little.

"You have to stay focused," he said. "She needs you to stay calm."

"This is all your damn fault!" Elliot spat, thinking of the late meeting delaying his departure and the words escaping his lips before his common sense could intervene.

"Stabler, either get a grip or I'll have no choice but to send you home!" his Captain said more firmly this time. Stabler stared at him, incredulous. Could the man seriously believe that he would just obediently head off home while his partner, ex or not, was suffering goodness knows what at the hands of some lunatic. The fiery resolve burned deep within him as he forced himself to take a deep breath and try to at least pretend he wasn't on the verge of completely falling apart.

"There's nothing more we can do here," Cragen decided. We need to check out her apartment and check her phone records."

"We should also check on Harris," Elliot said through gritted teeth. It wasn't something he seriously wanted to consider. He could only imagine the impact on Olivia if it really was Harris who had got hold of her. The mere thought was devastating.

"Is she seeing anyone at the moment?" Cragen asked cautiously. He had his own suspicions about the nature of Elliot's feelings towards his ex-partner, but as far as he knew they weren't actually an official item and so it was a question that needed to be asked. The witnesses had said she had walked away with this man, so it was likely it was someone she knew. It was always possible that she had gone willingly, rather than being forced, despite what Elliot thought.

"No," Elliot replied. There was a sad quality to his voice which didn't escape Cragen's notice but he simply ignored it, filing it away for future reference.

"Do you know if she was having any trouble with anyone else – an ex, a friend, a neighbour?"

"Look, there's nothing OK! Don't you think I would have mentioned it? I'm not some idiot off the street, Captain. I get it OK."

"OK," Cragen nodded, ignoring once again Elliot's insolence. It was plain the man was distraught over the thought of anything having happened to her and his attitude was born from this, not disrespect.

"Let's head over to her apartment and see if anything turns up," Cragen suggested, allowing Elliot to lead to way to his car.

…

The search of her apartment didn't reveal much. The box of chocolates and the accompanying note were sent off to the lab for forensic analysis. The whole situation was extremely worrying to Cragen. It seemed Elliot was too caught up in things to really take on board the fact that it looked like they were dealing with a stalker. The note suggested that its author had been fully aware of her plans with Elliot that evening, which was alarming to say the least. He had a quick word in the ear of the head crime scenes unit detective, voicing his suspicions and leading to a thorough sweep of her apartment. To their horror they turned up three separate listening devices which had been planted: one linked to her phone and the other two placed in the living room and bedroom. The devices themselves were crude but highly effective. Morales informed them that the data was being uploaded digitally and could potentially have been accessed anywhere in the city. They removed the devices, hoping to find fingerprints or a clue as to where they had been purchased thanks to the serial numbers on such things.

Elliot had been bewildered by the discovery. He was seated at her dining table, his head in his hands, trying to process the confirmation that it was looking more and more likely that whoever had taken Olivia had been stalking her for some time. Cragen had ordered Fin and Munch to go and talk to Harris and had other detectives, who had been drafted in to help on this case, to go through the records of recent parole releases of anyone who might possibly be holding a grudge against her. Cragen himself decided to canvass the neighbours. Maybe someone had seen the stalker hanging around. He must have somehow entered her apartment to place the listening devices. He knew she was more safety conscious than your average Joe on the street, so it was a mystery how this person had got inside her apartment in the first place, let alone managing to do so and leave without causing her to suspect anything. He had asked the CSU detectives to dust for prints on the fire escape and windows, not really holding out much hope. There probably wasn't much chance of anything much turning up given the fact that the experts seemed to think the devices had been placed a while ago.

Once they had finished up at her apartment building, they headed back to the precinct. Four hours had already passed since Elliot had reported her missing and they were nowhere nearer to knowing who had taken Olivia or where she was. Fin and Munch had contacted Harris' parole officer who had explained that today was his scheduled day off from the factory and so they had no idea where he might have gone aside from his daily trip to the gym. They had gone to his bedsit and it appeared he wasn't in. They had been refused a warrant to enter and search the place, given the complete lack of concrete evidence that he had anything to do with Olivia's disappearance and so they had returned empty handed. The growing assumption amongst the team now was that Harris more than likely was involved and it was frustrating that there was nothing they could do to confirm that. On hearing the situation Elliot had been ready to storm over there and break in there himself, but luckily Cragen had been able to talk some sense into him and instead he was headed over to the bar where Olivia worked, to see if anyone there could shed light on who might have been stalking her.

The trip to the bar turned out to be fruitless, since the place was inexplicably shut for the evening. Elliot had tried calling Lawrence's mobile number, but there had been no reply. He left a message asking him to contact him as soon as he could and that it was extremely important. There was nothing more he could do. He glanced at his watch and saw it was now almost one o clock in the morning. She had been missing for six hours now. The thought of all the possibilities of what she might have gone through during all that time truly broke his heart. His initial hope that they would find her before anything could happen to her had changed into now hoping he could just find her alive. Whatever horrific trauma she might have gone through – be going through – he had to cling on to the hope that if he could just get her back with him, he could help her to move on and get through it – if she would let him. He wished he could go back in time and tell her how he felt about her. If, God-forbid, she died at the hands of some psycho, without ever knowing how much she meant to him, he wasn't sure he could live with himself.

He suddenly felt an overwhelming need to be close to her and so decided impulsively to go to her apartment. Once inside, he headed to her bedroom and opened her wardrobe. He reached for one of her shirts and pressed it against his face, breathing in the familiar smell of her washing powder and the lingering smell of her perfume that permeating the whole wardobe. Clutching the shirt, he returned to the living room and sank down onto the sofa. He needed to clear his head and try and stay focused. Regrets were all very well, but they wouldn't bring him any closer to actually finding her. It was as though breathing in her scent revitalized him and gave him a renewed determination. He couldn't give up. He had to do everything he could to get to her. There was no way he was going to sit back and just let whatever fate that awaited her occur without a fight. He decided to start the only place he could think of. He would go to Harris' apartment, warrant be damned.

…

Elliot heard the noise of the front door opening and he quickly glanced around the small room, desperately hunting for some escape route, but of course there was none. The only way in or out was through the door he had kicked in, breaking the hinges to allow him entry. The window was barred and so there was no way he would be able to escape through that. It crossed his mind that this place was somewhat of a fire trap in addition to being a complete dive. He felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a car and all he could do now was to brace himself. In some ways it was invigorating to know that in a matter of seconds he would come face to face with the man who had hurt his partner in ways she still couldn't fully admit to him. He would like nothing better than to beat him to a pulp for what he had done to her. There was still a sensible part of him however, that told him that he needed to stay calm if he was going to get him to lead him to her. His returning like this at least meant he wasn't currently hurting her, but he couldn't help fearing that perhaps he had already killed her and dumped her body somewhere. If that were the case, then he knew he would kill him without a second thought. Spending the rest of his life in prison would be nothing compared to the pain of never being able to see her again and having to live with the knowledge of how her final hours had been.

He watched in anticipation, his weapon drawn, unfalteringly aimed at the figure who stepped into the room. He realised that his opponent was even more formidable than he had thought. He was tall and the bulk of his muscular frame was clearly visible despite his winter attire. All that time in the gym had obviously paid off. Elliot had been hoping to take him by surprise, but the front door off its hinges had obviously alerted Harris to the potential danger inside and he had been ready, entering with a speed and ferocity that took Elliot aback. The gun still proved to give him the upper hand, however, and snarling, Harris stopped in his tracks when he noticed it aimed straight at him.

"Where is she?" Elliot growled, his tone leaving Harris in no doubt that the mood Elliot was in, he wouldn't hesitate twice about pulling the trigger.

To his surprise though, Harris suddenly seemed to relax, his snarl turning into an infuriating grin.

"Lost someone?" he asked the enjoyment on his face plain.

Elliot's hand clenched even more tightly around the trigger as he focused his aim intently on the man in front of him. It would be so easy just to end his existence here and now. He saw Harris's confident expression waver ever so slightly as he recognized just how close Elliot actually was to doing it.

Instead, however, Elliot's grip relaxed ever so slightly.

"Tell me where she is, you bastard!" he said his voice low and threatening.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Elliot was pleased to note the catch in Harris' voice, for despite all his self-assured bravado it was clear he was intimidated. It was unnerving though, for something in that moment, an instinct he had grown to trust implicitly over the years, told him that the man was speaking the truth and he truly didn't have any idea what he was talking about.


	11. Chapter 11

11

_ She struggled again to try and free her hands, but it was fruitless. The tape was impossible to remove in this position. She was also loathe to exert herself too much given that she was forced to breathe through her nose thanks to a huge strip of the same tape, preventing her from spitting out the cloth he had shoved deep into her mouth before completing her make-shift gag. She dreaded the moment it would be removed, knowing that it would cause significant pain to have the rough tape ripped from her sensitive skin. She had felt at first like she was going to choke on the cloth, but forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply through her nose she had managed to envelop herself in some semblance of calm, a state she knew she needed to preserve if she were going to get through this. The blindfold didn't help matters. The darkness just made it all seem so much worse, so much more terrifying. _

_ She had recognized him immediately. He hadn't spoken a word, but she had a fairly good idea of what he ultimately had in store for her. The moment he had bundled her into the back of the van, the gun pressed up hard against her side, she had accepted the inevitability of her impending fate. Only he hadn't yet touched her. Instead, he had bound her, gagged her, blindfolded her and then just left her alone in the back of the van - to wait she supposed. She had no idea how long she had been there, although the sensations in her bladder suggested it had been a while now. It was cold. The heat had long since dissipated and she could feel herself shivering involuntarily. She couldn't hear any sounds outside which didn't bode well. She guessed she must have been brought somewhere secluded for whatever it was he planned for her. It did cross her mind that maybe this was her fate – to freeze to death in the back of this van. She could feel the lone and silent tear working its way down her cheek as she fought the feeling of absolute despair that enveloped her. _

…

Elliot smashed his fist on the dashboard of his car, frustrated. The face to face meeting with Harris had completely thrown him. He had been convinced he was behind Olivia's disappearance but now he wasn't so sure. Just as he was about to pull away, a call came in from Fin. They had been going through the CCTV camera footage from the street corner and it appeared they had found something on one of the tapes. Unfortunately the camera had been crude and with the picture so blurry, they could only make out enough to tell that the man she had left with was of medium-build with dark brown curly hair visible protruding from his rain hat. They had left the corner heading towards Central Park, disappearing out of view of the camera quickly. Obtaining and searching through all of the footage from the numerous street cameras in the area would take a good while longer, Elliot knew.

He decided to head back to the precinct to take a look at the footage of her leaving with this man himself. Maybe if it were someone she knew he would recognise him too. He was convinced there was no way she would willingly go off with someone she didn't know. She knew the score: don't let them get you alone. She would have struggled or shouted or something had it been a stranger… unless he did have a weapon trained on her after all. Fin had said they could see no sign of a gun or knife, but that didn't mean there hadn't been one hidden from view. Elliot grimaced. Every minute that passed decreased the chances of her being found safely…alive. It was a thought that refused to leave his mind. The fact that this guy had been stalking her too didn't bode well either. Obsession often proved deadly.

Something had been niggling at the back of his mind ever since he had left Harris' place; the fact that he still hadn't managed to get in contact with her boss, Lawrence. He fit Fin's description too, although he had to admit it was a vague one. Even so, despite never really having liked the guy, it was hard to imagine he could have been stalking her and taken her like this. He hadn't come across as your average creep and even though he worked out, Elliot believed that in a fistfight, Olivia would have the upper hand. She knew how to defend herself as well as any guy he had ever worked with and that thought caused him to smile. However, if it was Lawrence, it would certainly explain how she could have been unsuspecting of a sinister ulterior motive. The apprehension churning his stomach, he tried Lawrence's number one more time, but as before there was no answer. The lack of reply only increased his suspicion and he radioed back to the unit to get an address and back-up. Lawrence was now suspect number one in his view.

…

Elliot was seething. Lawrence had been picked up and brought down to the precinct for questioning. He was insisting he had nothing to do with Olivia's disappearance and yet he refused to properly explain what he had been doing that evening. It didn't add up. He was putting on the concerned friend and boss act, but Elliot didn't believe it for a minute.

"You know this will be much better for you if you talk," Elliot said coldly. "Judges and juries don't tend to show much lenience when cops are involved."

"Look, you idiot. I told you I don't know where she is. Why aren't you out there looking for her, rather than wasting your time with me?"

Suddenly and taking Lawrence thoroughly by surprise, Elliot leapt at him, his hand around his throat in a flash, pinning him up against the wall. Lawrence's eyes were wide with fear as he cowered before the stronger man's wrath.

"Where is she?" Elliot repeated threateningly, squeezing his hands tight enough to cause Lawrence to struggle desperately against him, terrified.

Exasperated, Elliot released his grip and watched Lawrence who was panting from the adrenaline and eyeing Elliot nervously as he waited for his next move.

The knocking on the window drew Elliot's attention and frustrated he slammed his fists down on the table before turning and leaving the room without a second glance behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Cragen asked him furiously, before instructing the accompanying detective to release Lawrence immediately with their sincere apologies.

"You can't let him go! He knows something Captain," Elliot replied angrily.

"I suggest you get your ass into the media room before you start making assumptions, Detective."

Elliot looked at his Captain questioningly, but the older man just nodded reinforcing the fact that this was an order, not a choice.

Reluctantly, Elliot headed away from the interrogation room. He couldn't help thinking that every second he spent away from interrogating Lawrence was another second Olivia was suffering. It was intolerable.

…

Elliot pushed his way inside the small media room and nodded in greeting at Fin who was diligently looking through the footage they had pulled from the streets.

"Elliot! You've got to see this man," his colleague said quickly.

"What is it?" Elliot asked, drawing closer to the monitor and waiting as Fin switched channels.

"See for yourself!" Fin said.

Elliot stared at the screen as the saved image came into view. The computer technicians had expertly enhanced the picture. Elliot stared, for a few seconds puzzled as he didn't immediately recognise the somewhat familiar face. Then it clicked and his jaw fell open in disbelief.

"Shit!" he exclaimed shakily, as the realisation hit. "This isn't even about her. He's after me."

"It would appear so," Fin said slowly.

"How the hell did he get out of prison?"

"Apparently there was an appeal, based on the accusation of police entrapment and no actual physical harm done to the victim and he was released early."

"What? That bastard should be rotting in jail for the rest of his life!"

"You know what it's like. The economy is bad. Prisons are overrun. They are fighting huge cuts…"

"Don't spout that bullshit at me, Fin." Elliot said harshly, holding out a hand to steady himself against the desk, as the impact of what he had just found out began to truly hit.

"There's a unit on the way to his registered address now."

"I'm going there."

"Wait, you're in no state to drive! I'll take you."

"Fine. Just hurry."

…

Elliot flashed his badge and hurried inside. The footage had been enough to get them a warrant and CSU were swarming over the apartment now, checking for prints and anything else that might prove he had taken her there. It didn't look too promising however. Elliot wandered aimlessly, looking for anything that might give them any clue as to where he might have taken her.

The convicted rapist, Ray Schenkel, had been one of his more challenging cases. He had gone undercover as a fellow sex offender in order to befriend the guy hoping to catch him in the act again and he had struggled to deal with the psychological impact of his role; most notably his necessary participation in the compulsory group therapy meetings that Ray had to attend as part of his parole agreement. The plan had been to trick Ray into attempting to lure an undercover female police officer into his van, but things had gone extremely wrong when Ray had stolen his vehicle and abducted an innocent woman off the street. Thankfully Elliot had been able to prevent anything further happening to her, but it had been a close shave. The kidnap and attempted rape should have landed him life with no further risk of parole being granted. It was inconceivable that any appeal had been granted.

Ray must have been holding a serious grudge against Elliot and had decided to make him pay. It seemed that taking Olivia had been the way he had chosen to gone about it. It suddenly occurred to Elliot to ask that the technicians sweep his own apartment, now that he suspected it was he who was the real target. He must have led Ray to Olivia. Munch had contacted him, confirming that records showed that Ray had been released over three months ago and it was likely that he had been stalking them both all this time, waiting for the right moment to make his move. The thought made him feel sick to the stomach. She had absolutely nothing to do with this. If that bastard had touched her…he swore to himself then and there that he would kill him.

…

Knowing who had her had unfortunately brought them no closer to actually finding her. The following lunch time, more than seventeen hours after she had gone missing, Cragen insisted that Elliot go home to rest, shower and change. It hadn't been a choice.

Elliot slipped into his apartment feeling defeated. Earlier the technicians had found three listening devices planted in his place, in similar positions to those that had been recovered in Olivia's. They had been removed, which Elliot knew would have alerted Ray to the fact that they were now on to him. They had tapped into his phone line, ready to start the trace as soon as Ray called, if he did. It made Elliot feel slightly better about being there rather than the precinct, with the knowledge that Ray would at some point probably try to make contact.

He hadn't intended to really sleep, just to lie down for a few minutes, but the first thing he noticed when the banging on his door woke him up was the time and he realised with horror that he had been asleep for almost six hours.

He leapt to his feet and crossed the distance to the door in record time. He was exasperated to see it was his neighbour, an elderly lady, nice enough, but with a slight tendency to be a little nosy.

"Now's not a good time, Mrs Farrey," he told her, opening the door.

"Are you alone?" she asked nervously.

He nodded, his irritation at her persistence growing steadily.

"Then in that case, there's a call for you," she said, thrusting the wireless phone she had been hiding behind her back straight into his hand.

With no time to react, he raised the receiver to his ear and muttered a dazed "hello!?"

"Elliot! It's been a while."

"Ray!" he muttered through clenched teeth. All of their experience and technology and they had overlooked the possibility of the man calling his next door neighbour, whose line was of course not being traced. It was so simple it was nauseating. He felt like an absolute idiot.

"So how have you been, _detective_?" he drawled the word accusingly.

"Cut the crap Ray. Where is she? What do you want?"

"Tut tut tut. All in good time my dear detective. Okay. We may as well cut to the chase. I think you've worked out the situation. Now, I want you to join the party. The only thing is I really don't want you calling your pals. Now, I know that is probably highly tempting, but, well to be honest, lives depend on it. You get my drift?"

"Let me speak to her. I'm not going anywhere unless I know she is okay."

"She's fine. You'll just have to take my word on that. However, she won't be for long. You have twenty minutes to get here. Any sign of your pals and I pull the trigger. My life is over, Elliot. I have nothing to lose. You, however, have everything."

"Fine," said Elliot resignedly. "I'll go. Just me. Where are you?"

"Where it all began…"

"What does that mean?"

"You have twenty minutes to work it out detective."

Elliot heard the click and the line go dead.

"Everything okay?" his neighbour asked watching him dubiously, clutching the phone he had handed back to her just before he leaned inside and grabbed his keys, wallet and phone and then locked his door.

"Yes, fine," he called behind him as he hurried away down towards his car. "Thanks, Mrs Farrey," he added, leaving the startled woman staring open-mouthed behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N I'm afraid this chapter is where this story gets very M-rated. I must warn you, it contains sexual violence. In fact much of it is heavily alluded to rather than directly recounted, but even so, please don't read this if these things upset you. **

12

Elliot raced as fast as he could to the factory where Ray Schenkel had taken him and the girl he had picked up off the street all those years ago. It was the only place he could think of. It was so obvious, he wondered if it could really be that simple. Admittedly it was the perfect place if Ray craved privacy; it had been abandoned for years and in fact the area was pretty run down now. The chances of anyone being around seemed slim to none, a fact that worried Elliot all the more. He had called Cragen who was putting together a response team, but even so, Elliot knew he would be on the scene long before anyone else. It took time to get a SWAT team mobilized. Cragen had told him to at least wait for regular back-up, but it looked like it would take at least thirty minutes. They were coming from the opposite direction to Elliot and thanks to an inopportune road traffic accident blocking the most direct route to the factory from that side of town, they would be delayed. There was no way he was risking leaving Olivia in Ray's hands for a second longer than necessary.

Besides, the guy's real target was him. He was hoping if he went in, he could convince him to let Olivia go. It was a long-shot. He was a convicted rapist. Elliot didn't even want to think about the consequences of what that might have meant for her. He refused to leave Olivia alone with Ray for a second longer than necessary.

So it was that just fifteen minutes later, he arrived outside the factory, alone, his weapon drawn and bracing himself for the scene inside.

…

It was dark inside. It was likely the electricity had been cut off years ago. There was a dank musty smell, a result of the place having gone unused for so long. Elliot blinked, willing his eyes to adjust to the half-light quickly as he glanced around the room, searching for Ray… searching for Olivia.

"Put down your weapon!"

He couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. He looked this way and that but to no avail.

"Throw down your weapon and your cell phone, or I will hurt her." He heard her cry out in pain then. His stomach clenched. Not being able to see exactly what it was he had just done to her made it all the worse. The only positive was that at least he had now confirmed she was alive. He just needed to stall long enough for armed back-up to arrive.

"OK," he said, giving in. Leaving himself unarmed could be a huge mistake, but what choice did he have given the circumstances?

"Throw them over to the doorway at the back of the room."

Elliot obliged, watching carefully for any sign of Ray. The thought did cross his mind that maybe he could run and tackle him the second he showed, taking him by surprise and thereby gaining the advantage. He soon dismissed that idea though when he saw the familiar figure appear in the doorway. Ray was holding her as a human shield. Ray immediately stooped down to pick up Elliot's gun, but Elliot barely even noticed. Instead he was staring in dismay at Olivia. She had cuts and bruises over her face and arms and had obviously taken a severe beating. Her hands were bound behind her back and her mouth looked red and raw, which from experience Elliot knew was probably a result of a tape gag that had been ripped from her. She looked extremely unsteady on her feet. He could feel the rage building inside him as he tried to process everything.

Ray now trained Elliot's own weapon on him. "Let's go!" he instructed.

"Where to?" Elliot asked, his heart sinking. He had counted on their location remaining fixed so that back-up could find them.

"Just get in the fucking van!" Ray instructed, waving the gun towards the vehicle.

Elliot climbed inside the back of the van and Ray proceeded to handcuff him to the interior. He then shoved Olivia inside, not bothering to further secure her. Her hands were still cuffed behind her back and besides she looked like she was barely in a state to do anything, much less escape. She fell to the floor from the force of the push and landed in a crumpled heap, a low groan escaping her lips.

"You two enjoy the reunion. We're going on a road trip!" Ray said, grinning evilly. He then slammed the door shut, padlocked it and went round to the front. Within minutes they were driving away and Elliot knew that they were now completely on their own.

He immediately turned his attention to Olivia. She had pulled herself up into a sitting position and was leaning her head heavily against the side of the van.

"Liv. Are you alright?" he asked yanking at his cuffs, his only reward a bright red welt now forming on each wrist.

"El, I'm sorry," she said, her gaze downcast.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. This is all my fault."

He looked at her, unable to stop staring at the bruises. Every time he looked he thought he saw a new one.

"Do you have any idea what he wants?" he asked.

He watched as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, the pain on her face clearly visible. There was something about her stance that suddenly sent a jolt of fear through him. The submissive defeated way she slouched, the dull lifeless glint to her eyes. It was as though all the fight and spunk that he loved about her had gone. He had to know for sure.

"Liv, did he rape you?" he asked nervously. Then his nervousness changed to disgust and utter devastation as she spoke. He could barely take it in.

"Pretty much. He said he couldn't wait and that he would have a practice run before you got here. Only he couldn't get himself properly aroused for some reason, so he took it out on me, hence the beating."

"Oh geez, Liv," Elliot whispered. "No… Oh God, no. I'm so sorry." He rested his forehead on his cuffed hands as he felt the tears brimming in his eyes. How could this have happened? He would kill Ray. That bastard didn't deserve to live. Then the impact of her words truly sank in. This was it. This was his revenge. He was planning to rape her in front of him. It was too sickening to be true.

"Liv, we need to get out of here," he said firmly.

"How are we supposed to do that?" she asked miserably. "We're tied up in the back of a moving vehicle. It's over, Elliot."

Elliot stared at her sadly. It wasn't like her to be so willing to accept her fate. There was no way he was letting that creep get his hands on her again. He would fight all the way. He started pulling at his cuffs again, this time with renewed frenzy.

"Elliot! Stop it. You're just hurting yourself and getting nowhere."

He stopped struggling and instead suddenly kicked the side of the van aggressively.

"Come on," he said. "Let's make as much noise as we can and try to attract some attention."

She joined in banging and kicking the sides of the van. Her kicks were weak, but Elliot was pleased to see even a little amount of fight still in her after the ordeal she had been through.

The van stopped and they heard the sound of Ray leaving the cabin and moving around to the back. Elliot saw how Olivia tensed in fear as they listened to the padlock being unlocked and then caught sight of their furious captor.

"You two have a death wish or something?" he barked. He stepped towards Olivia.

"Leave her alone!" Elliot growled.

"It's simple. You piss me off. I take it out on her. Do you finally get it?" Elliot watched in horror as Ray struck her hard on the side of the head, causing her to once again fall to the floor of the van.

"You bastard," Elliot said.

"What was that?" Ray asked, raising his arm as though he were going to strike Olivia again.

"Nothing," Elliot said. Then he gathered up every shred of self-control he had. "I'm sorry. Look, I'll do anything you want. Just stop hurting her, please."

"Stay quiet!" Ray instructed them, before leaving, placing the padlock on the door once again.

"Liv, are you OK?" Elliot asked as soon as Ray had gone. He watched as she raised her hand to her face and then stared at the blood on her fingers.

"I'm fine," she said. Elliot smiled at the lie. That was his Liv.

"We're going to get out of this," he said, determinedly. "I promise."

…

A short while later they arrived at their destination, wherever that was. Neither of them had any idea what direction they might have been headed in or how much time had really passed. Neither of them was wearing a watch and Ray had discarded their phones. Everything seemed like it was a blur. Minutes seemed like hours yet hours seemed like minutes.

Ray pulled them out of the van one at a time and they realized they had been brought to some kind of remote country farmhouse or something. They weren't even sure if they were still in New York State or had been taken across state lines. They were taken to a bare room, with only a mattress on the floor and a sink in the corner, below a tiny barred window, nothing else. Ray handcuffed Elliot to a pipe running down the wall at the back of the room and then he went back out to get Olivia. Once they entered the room, he threw her down roughly onto the mattress. Elliot's heart was racing as he realized what was happening.

"Please," he said, unable to hide the absolute fear in his voice. "I'm begging you. Don't do this. It's me you want. Please. Leave her alone."

"You ruined my life!" Ray said coldly. "And now I'm going to ruin yours. Besides. She's kind of cute."

"You don't need to do this. There are other ways."

Ray ignored him, instead, sinking to his knees beside Olivia who had tried to back away from him as far as she could. Ray reached for her and pulled her roughly down the mattress, closer to him. Then he straddled her, pinning her beneath his body. Elliot could see that with her arms tied and all her injuries, it was near impossible for her to fight him.

"Ray. Stop this. It's not too late. You can escape. I'll help you. You can live your life somewhere no one would ever find you. I'm begging you."

Ray ignored him and instead leaned in, beginning to kiss her neck. Elliot watched her squirming, feeling as though his heart was being literally ripped from his chest. She turned her head then and her eyes, wide with both fear and resignation, met his. It was as though for a second she completely bared her soul to him in that single stare. He could feel her fear, her devastation for him that he had to witness something as horrific as this. He could sense her telling him it was alright; that she didn't blame him. It brought tears to his eyes. She didn't deserve this. He could see the pain in her expression and recognized it immediately. He knew for her being in this position in front of him was the ultimate humiliation. She had always hated to be seen as weak. It was the last thing he thought. He hoped she knew that deep down.

"Survive!" he mouthed, knowing she would understand what he was trying to say. He was telling her it was OK to submit; to do whatever it was she could to make the ordeal less unpleasant. She closed her eyes and he knew she was trying to relax her body, take her mind somewhere else. He knew she needed to be anywhere but in this room right now and he hoped desperately she could leave it. He closed his own eyes too in an attempt to give her as much privacy as he could, given the circumstances. The silent tears ran down his cheeks as he tried to ignore the grunting sounds Ray was now making.

_I'm so sorry, Liv. I love you so much. Please forgive me. _


	13. Chapter 13

13

Elliot watched her miserably. He had never felt so helpless, so out of his depth in a situation. After Ray had left, she hadn't moved from her position curled up on the mattress facing away from Elliot. He couldn't tell if she was sleeping or silently crying or what. He had tried getting her to talk once Ray had left but she hadn't answered him. It was heart-breaking. He supposed she needed some time and he knew he owed her that much. Instinctively he just wanted to go to her and wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be OK while holding her close to him in the vain hope it would be or it would help her forget, even for a brief moment, but he was still manacled to the pipe and unable to move. _If only she would come to him._

After a while, he tried again. She had shifted a little and he'd heard her sniff, so he knew she was awake.

"Liv," he said gently. Once again there was no reply.

"Please, Liv," he repeated. "I know you're awake. Please talk to me."

"What would you like me to say?" she asked flatly, without changing her position in the slightest.

"How's your head?" She had banged it quite hard earlier and he knew she was probably in some significant discomfort generally from the injuries she had suffered at the hands of Ray. It somehow seemed much easier to ask about that than to talk about the more obvious trauma she had just suffered.

"It's sore," she admitted. "Everything's sore though. I'm so tired."

"I'm so sorry."

"This isn't your fault."

"I know, but I couldn't stop it. I should have been able to stop it."

"I don't blame you."

"I blame me."

"El, please don't… this is hard enough."

They lapsed into silence for a short while, before Elliot spoke again.

"Liv, can you walk?"

"I guess so," she replied unenthusiastically.

"We've got to try and get out of here." It was clear to Elliot that Ray hadn't finished with either of them and would be back again, as he had promised right before he had left. So far they had received no food or water and no one knew where they were, so in his eyes their situation was extremely serious. He doubted very much that Ray planned to let either of them walk away from this alive and it seemed sensible to make an attempt to escape sooner rather than later, before they grew weak from the lack of sustenance. He was already worried about Olivia's physical condition. The psychological impact of her trauma was obviously also a significant worry, but he knew it would have to wait for now. The priority was first and foremost to survive this. He planned on doing everything he possibly could to ensure that.

"Liv," he said. "I need you to come over here. We need to see if we can work together to get these cuffs off. They don't seem to be of particularly high quality. If I could get one of your hair pins out of your hair, we might be in with a chance of picking the locks."

"Sure, let's try," she said. His heart lurching, he watched her slowly pull herself up into a sitting position. He could only imagine how hard this was for her. She was so brave, so dignified in his eyes that it almost brought fresh tears to his eyes.

She finally spun her body around and he caught sight of her face for the first time since their ordeal together in this room had started. Several strands of hair had worked their way loose from the pony tail she had been wearing, her eyes and face were blotchy, she had bruises all over it seemed, dried blood on her forehead and left cheek, yet still she exuded a simple beauty, one that struck him hard every single time he saw her. Once again he fought the intensity of his desire to rip Ray's limbs from his body with his bare hands and instead smiled at her encouragingly as she shakily got to her feet and made her way over to him.

"Bend your head down a little towards my hands," he instructed her when she drew close. She knelt down and did as he asked and he went to work trying to loosen one of her hair pins. Irritatingly, it was completely caught in her hair. He had no desire to further hurt her by yanking it free forcibly, probably taking a chunk of hair with it.

"Just pull it out," she said, understanding what must be the problem, since it had been taking so long.

"I don't want to hurt you," Elliot replied.

"It's OK. It will just sting for a second or two. I'm ready. Just do it."

Reluctantly, Elliot gripped the pin, then as quickly as he could, he pulled it hard, ripping a small clump of her hair out along with it, as he had feared. He could see her wince, but she quickly recovered her composure and Elliot was now successfully holding the pin in his fingers. If it got them out of this place, he knew it would be worth it, but he still hated the fact that he had hurt her again.

He didn't need to instruct her to raise her wrists to him. He went to work trying to pick the lock. It made him long for Fin's presence. He would know what he was doing. Elliot had a good idea, but the truth was he had never actually done it himself, only read about it. He hoped he could pull it off.

Olivia kept her gaze low as he worked. She was so close he could feel the warmth emanating from her body. He could only imagine the pain she was going through right now. He wished he could tell her just how much she meant to him, but he was worried that if he said something now she might dismiss it as purely a reaction to their situation and not realize that he was telling her something he had felt for a long time, just had never had the courage to say. He knew now wasn't the time though. They needed to get out of here.

"Can I give yours a try?" she asked after several minutes. He agreed. He was getting nowhere and the angle he was working at was giving him a serious neck and shoulder ache. He carefully handed the pin over to her and she took it with her fingers successfully. She then set to work silently. He watched her, admiring her determination and drive. She was completely focused on the task at hand.

"I wonder where we are exactly," he said. It wasn't that he expected her to have any more of a clue than he did, just that he hated the silence. He needed to hear her voice. He wasn't sure whether it was more about him making sure she wasn't falling apart or whether he needed to make sure he wasn't.

"I think he took us up north," she said, surprising him with her conviction. He didn't really have a clue which direction they had gone in.

"Maybe you're right," he said.

"There!"

He stared in disbelief for a couple of seconds as he realized she had done it: she had actually released his handcuffs.

"Wow, Liv!" he exclaimed. "When on earth did you learn how to do that?"

She grinned at him mischievously and he smiled back. It was almost like old times… then almost immediately her face clouded over again and the weight of their situation returned.

With his hands free, Elliot stretched his arms briefly and then turned his attention to Olivia's cuffs. Who knew how much time they had? They needed to act fast now. If Roy returned, Elliot needed to be ready to overpower him immediately. It would be easier if Olivia were free too. He fiddled with the pin, followed her directions and finally, not without a certain amount of frustration, he managed to unlock her cuffs too. His elation at the small achievement almost caused him to react in the way he most wanted to, but he stopped himself. After everything she had been through, he was certain the last thing she would want would be him throwing himself at her and wrapping his arms round her.

"Let's try the window," he said instead, leaping to his feet quickly.

He pushed at the bars but they seemed well constructed. It seemed very unlikely they'd be escaping that way. That left only one option: to wait for Ray to return, overpower him and escape that way. The only thing was, they had no idea when that would be.

They planned it carefully. They would both be ready by the door the second they heard his approach. Between them both they were confident they could take him down. They discussed what to do if Ray pulled a weapon and unanimously decided that to go out fighting would be a whole lot better than to be subjected to any more of his sick games. So it was decided. Even so, Elliot had made the decision, that if it came down to push and shove, he would do whatever it took to ensure Olivia got the best chance to escape, even if it was at his own expense. It was the least he could do given his spectacular failure to protect her so far, he decided.

Making plans was all very good, but as time ticked by, they guessed several hours, although it was difficult to really judge, Ray still didn't return and Elliot started to really worry about Olivia. She was looking more and more exhausted in his opinion. Given her injuries, he knew that the lack of food and water was affecting her perhaps more than it would normally. In addition she had been held prisoner a lot longer than he had.

"Liv, have you had anything to eat or drink since he took you?" Elliot asked suddenly. He wasn't sure why he hadn't considered that fact before. No wonder she was struggling more than he was.

She shook her head. He looked at her once again and suddenly really noticed just how dry her lips were, how sunken her eyes suddenly looked.

"Liv, what happened? I mean, I read the message and realize you went to that corner thinking you were going to meet me, but how did he get you to go with him?"

"He had a knife," she explained. "He took me completely by surprise. I knew I recognized him from somewhere but couldn't place him at first. I was confused I guess and off guard. He pretended like he was an old friend or something and got close. Before I knew what was happening he had a knife against my side and started threatening to use it."

Despite the nerves, despite the doubts that permeated his entire being, Elliot placed his hand on her arm at this point. She didn't flinch or pull away. The anguish on her face made him further throw caution to the wind and he gently slipped his arm around her, pulled her towards him and rested his face against hers, holding her in what he hoped was a strong but non-threatening embrace. He could feel her tense against him at first, but then as he continued to hold her, he felt her relax into it. There was a subtle shift of weight as she leaned into him. Nervously he stayed still, his arm still around her as he breathed in her scent. It felt so good to have her so close, yet he felt so guilty. Was he taking advantage of her? Was he using her moment of weakness to his own ends? He couldn't bear the thought of her thinking that later. He wanted desperately to pull away, but how could he? How could he rip himself away from her when it seemed that right now the contact was exactly what she needed? With his stomach in knots and his mind racing with confusion he stayed exactly where he was. He would leave it up to her to pull away.

He could feel her breathing as he held her; her chest moving up and down in a slow and steady rhythm. He hated this. He had dreamed of holding her close for so long, but not like this; at least, not for this reason. Why did this have to happen? How was this in any way fair? He knew he was going to have to pull away soon or risk breaking down completely, yet he couldn't. How could he? His mind was in turmoil. He could barely breathe.

Then they both tensed and simultaneously released each other as they heard the sound of footsteps. It appeared Ray was back. This was their chance.


	14. Chapter 14

14

The door to the room opened outwards, not leaving them anywhere to hide. Therefore the hope was that Ray would be off guard, thinking they were both restrained and thereby be susceptible to their surprise attack. The plan was to wait for him to begin to open the door and then for Elliot to throw his weight against it, hopefully knocking Ray off his feet. They were worried he might be holding Olivia's gun and start shooting if backed into a corner, so Elliot knew he had to act fast and make sure he wrestled any weapon from him immediately, before he could react. They were both tense as they waited for what seemed like forever as Ray fumbled with his keys outside the room. They could hear the jangling sound clearly. Elliot caught Olivia's glance and he knew her heart was pounding just as hard as his was. Elliot knew it was all part of Ray's game, however; designed to invoke maximum fear.

The door started to move outwards and Elliot threw himself against it hard, slamming it into Ray, who staggered back struggling to maintain his balance, momentarily stunned. Elliot used his opponent's indecision to his advantage and grabbed his shoulders and slammed him into the wall roughly, noting that it appeared he was carrying no weapon. The adrenaline flowing, he manoeuvred him round and pushed him deep inside the small room, taking a couple of swings at him and drawing blood. Ray fell to the floor after the second blow, clutching his stomach, winded briefly. Elliot quickly patted him down and found the keys to the room. There was nothing he would have wanted more than to beat the sorry excuse for a human being into a pulp, but he could feel Olivia's eyes on him and despite the rage coursing through his veins, his absolute priority was her.

He crossed the room and indicated to her to leave. She stepped out and he followed, locking the door behind them, deciding that the irony of their captor being locked in his own makeshift prison would have to suffice in terms of 'revenge' for now. They immediately set to work hunting through the small cottage, primarily for a phone, but for anything that could help them get out. It seemed this place had no phone line, no internet and they couldn't find a cell phone anywhere either. Elliot went to the front door and peered outside looking for the van they had been brought in, but couldn't see it anywhere. In fact there was nothing at all out there, just trees. There was a very basic pebbled track leading away from the cottage, but beyond that absolutely no indication as to what direction they ought to head in.

"Where is the damn van?" Elliot spat, kicking the door in frustration. Who knew how far away from civilization they were and he knew Olivia was in no condition for a near-wilderness trek in the tail-end of winter. The van had to be around somewhere. Staying holed up here wasn't really an option. They needed to get in contact with the police and get them to pick Ray up and he suspected Olivia could do with a trip to the hospital.

"El," he heard her say softly. He hadn't realised how close behind him she had been standing.

"I'm going to go and take a look around outside," he stated. "Can you hunt around for anything in here that might be useful in case we have to walk a little? A knife, matches, water. Anything like that okay."

"El, I…" He saw the indecision on her face. The look in her eyes, desperately pleading with him not to leave her alone, something he knew she would never be able to voice out loud. It made his heart ache. How could he have been so insensitive? She was a rape victim. How could he have thought about leaving her alone right now?

"I'll help you," he said quickly. "I know what to look for. We can find the van afterwards."

He saw the relief in her eyes that she was unable to hide and he tried to mask his own emotion at her uncharacteristic display of 'weakness'. It wasn't that he blamed her in any way for that, just that he hated to see how rape trauma could affect previously confident women and take away so much from them. It was truly heart-breaking. There was no time to focus on it now though. They had to get out of here. He had already realized that judging from the position of the sun, it had to be early afternoon, which didn't give them that many hours of daylight left. Not having a clue where they were could mean that the nearest house was just a few meters down that dirt track or it could be several hours walk. Not knowing was the hardest part. It seemed vital that they find the van.

Olivia found a small ageing rucksack that had been shoved into the cupboard under the sink for some unknown reason and Elliot proceeded to quickly fill it with any useful items he could see. He found a knife, a torch, a blanket, some plastic bags and some matches. Unfortunately there seemed to be nothing in the way of food. He realized that Ray must have been coming and going while they had been held here, rather than hanging around. That van just had to be around somewhere. They wandered outside and finally spotted in round the back half-hidden by the trees. Elliot raced over, but immediately noticed the steering lock. There was no sight of the keys and disappointingly a thorough look inside didn't reveal any hidden stash of food either.

Sighing, he realised their only real option was either to return to the room and try and convince Ray to tell them where the keys were or to make their way on foot. He wasn't convinced going near Ray again was the best idea for his desire to cause permanent damage to him was still strong. He glanced warily at Olivia's attire. She had been dressed for a date with him and so wasn't exactly suitably dressed for a trek through the wintry wilderness. The ground outside was covered with a light dusting of snow and the terrain was pretty uneven looking. At least she had been wearing her warm fur-lined boots, but she would need something more substantial to keep her body warm outside. He hunted around and to his relief found a thick sweater at the back of a closet. It looked unwashed and as though it had been last worn about ten years ago, given the faded colours and the loose threading, but it would have to do. He handed it to her and wordlessly she removed her coat, pulled it over her head, wincing at the fusty smell and then pulled her coat on over it.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked. "Maybe someone will come by here and find us?"

"Liv, there's no water supply, no food and no phone. We need to go, I'm afraid."

"Okay," she said reluctantly. At least this way she would be further away from Ray, she thought. Her desire to get as far away from him as possible was pretty intense, she had to admit.

The noise of someone moving through the cottage surprised them. They immediately realised it must be Ray. Somehow he had got out of the room!

"Shit!" Elliot exclaimed. "He must have had a second pair of keys hidden on him or something. "Come on Liv. We have to run, now!" He couldn't risk Olivia getting any further injury in a fistfight and there was always the risk Ray had managed to get his hands on a hidden weapon.

They started to head down the stony road. Olivia knew she was functioning on pure adrenaline right now. It felt like every muscle in her body was screaming out to her to stop as she forced herself to run. After several meters she stumbled and almost fell. Then she felt Elliot yanking at her roughly. She literally fell on top of him and together they slid down the embankment, off the road and into a ditch.

"Come on!" he whispered. "We have to hide. He's close."

They crawled away from the road, soon out of sight thanks to the sheer number of trees and bushes and then paused, holding their breath as they heard Ray approaching. His footsteps slowed from a run to a brisk walk and then stopped. He must be literally metres away from where they were, huddled together on the cold wet ground. Had he noticed the disturbed vegetation or something? Elliot desperately hoped not. Anyone with any outdoor training would never be fooled, but he was praying that Ray would just assume they had gone on further down the road.

Finally they heard his footsteps resume as he continued onwards.

"I find you and you're both dead!" they heard him yelling.

"Elliot, what are we going to do?" Olivia asked once they were sure Ray was out of earshot.

"We can't risk the road," Elliot decided. "We're going to have to try and make our way through the forest."

"But we don't have a clue where we are. We could be absolutely anywhere."

"The track leads east. I can tell from the position of the sun. It must lead to a main road, so we'll head north then we'll cut across and try to meet it," Elliot said confidently.

"You think it will work?" she asked dubiously. She knew he had gone through survival training in the marines and knew what he was talking about, but even so, the thought of making their way through an unknown forest was still daunting.

"Sure," he smiled assuredly. "Come on, let's get moving before he realises we left the track and comes back looking for us."

She nodded and he helped her to her feet. Despite his confidence, he knew they were taking a huge risk wandering off like this. He knew full well there was absolutely no guarantee that the track would continue to head east. It might twist and turn and could lead anywhere, but right now he needed her to stay focused and he wanted her to feel like he was in control of the situation, to allow her to relinquish responsibility. She already had enough on her plate with the trauma she had recently gone through. He knew one of the huge challenges in any survival situation like this was psychological. Staying positive and thinking clearly could mean the difference between life and death. Beside, he was confident he could ultimately get them to civilization. He just wasn't sure how long it would take and at what cost.


	15. Chapter 15

15

Elliot stopped and glanced nervously at the sky, estimating that they probably had little more than an hour of sunlight left. He knew that rather than risk walking during that hour and still not finding anything, they would be more sensible to start preparing to spend the night outdoors. In this weather, shelter was a priority, as was finding something to eat. Progress had been slow. Olivia was plainly exhausted, despite putting on a brave face. Neither of them was wearing particularly suitable footwear and the undergrowth was slowing their progress considerably. Elliot had tried to keep them going in a steady direction but the terrain had proved uncooperative, forcing them to alter their path a number of times. He had no idea if they were heading towards civilization or deeper into the wilderness, but he knew they had to keep on the same track now or they would risk just making circles and getting nowhere.

Olivia, who had been a couple of paces behind him, drew alongside and wordlessly sank to the ground to rest. Her face was pale and there were huge shadows under her eyes.

"It's going to get dark," he said eyeing her nervously. He knew she wouldn't relish the idea of spending the night out here.

"Do you think we'll find somewhere in time?" she asked hopefully.

"No," he answered truthfully. "We need to rest and wait for morning."

"You mean sleep out here?" she asked, looking around apprehensively. The place was bleak, the ground littered with dead leaves and there were seemingly trees and not much else for miles and miles.

"We need food and shelter. It's going to get cold."

"Wouldn't it be better to just keep walking?"

"We have no idea where we are and how long it will take to reach somewhere. We could be days away from civilization. We need to rest. Besides, it will be pitch black soon and if we can't see the ground it will be dangerous. A sprained ankle won't do either of us any good."

"Fine," she said resignedly.

"Wait here. I'm just going to take a look around and see what we can use. I won't go far. I promise."

She nodded. Leaving her wasn't ideal, but he needed to act fast, before they lost the sunlight.

He wandered around a little, finding a tiny brook and a fallen tree trunk nearby. It was perfect. He could place branches and leaves up against it and they could shelter in the natural pit underneath. They would need a layer of insulation over the ground too, but it should be effective. He just prayed it wouldn't rain.

He returned to where she was waiting, realising he had taken longer than he had planned. She was sitting with her legs drawn up, hugging her knees and glancing nervously around. He saw her tense as she heard his approach, then relax when she saw it was him.

"I found some water," he said, reaching a hand towards her. "Come on."

She clasped his hand and allowed him to pull her up to her feet. He could see the embarrassment on her face at him having caught her looking and feeling so vulnerable but he didn't say anything, knowing that was the last thing she would want.

"There's a fallen tree trunk which will make a great shelter," he said.

She stared at him blankly and he knew this situation was probably so far removed from her usual reality that she had no idea how to react.

"Let's drink some water," he said, kneeling on the ground beside the brook, cupping his hands and swallowing the cold liquid eagerly.

She followed suit.

Once they had quenched their thirst, he immediately set to work looking for fallen branches that he could place against the tree trunk to create their makeshift shelter. It was only going to be very crude and there wouldn't be much room inside, but given the lack of time on their hands, there wasn't really much else they could do. Olivia helped him to hunt for branches and once they had collected enough, they set to work covering the outside with leaves and moss, trying to insulate it as best as they could.

Once they had finished, Elliot began hunting around under some smaller twigs and branches, much to Olivia's puzzlement.

"What are you looking for?" she asked curiously.

"Dinner," he said matter-of-factly.

"Are you serious?" she asked, taken aback. What on earth he was expecting to find to eat under a twig, she had no idea.

"Jackpot!" he said suddenly. She stepped over to see what he had found and as soon as she saw the thick white grubs, she raised her hand to her mouth in absolutely horror.

"There is absolutely no way I am eating those!" she stated firmly.

"Liv, you need food. These things might not look or taste that great, but they are absolutely chock-full of protein. They'll give us the energy we need to get out of here."

"I'm not eating them," she repeated firmly. "What on earth are they anyway?"

"They're beetle grubs. Look, I'll go first."

"Elliot, please! You can't really expect me to eat one of those things. I'm not one of your buddies on some marine field trip. I can't do it, okay? I'm going to be sick, just thinking about it."

"Liv, I don't know if you noticed but we are in the middle of a forest in the middle of winter, with no food and goodness knows how many miles to walk before we find help. This isn't a game. Those grubs could be the difference between life and death."

He hadn't meant his tone to be so harsh. He recognised that she deserved nothing but gentleness after everything she had been through, but at the same time she didn't seem to truly appreciate just how serious their situation was. She turned her head to hide her face and he knew for sure then that he had indeed been too harsh. He could have kicked himself. Maybe expecting her to just accept the idea of eating beetle grubs had been too much. He should have looked harder for something slightly less overwhelming. She was right. She wasn't a marine.

"I'm sorry, Liv," he said. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I'm just worried about you. You need food."

"It's OK," she muttered, still refusing to show him her face. He hoped she wasn't crying, although he feared she might be.

"Liv, please don't be upset."

"I'm fine," she said, now turning round. He was relieved to note there were no tears staining her cheeks.

"We should settle in," he said deciding to leave the subject of dinner alone for now. Maybe he could find something else for breakfast? "Look, it's almost dark. Let's get some rest."

"OK," she agreed. They crawled into the space under the log and lay down together side by side. It was the only way they could fit underneath.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked, very aware of just how close their bodies actually were.

"It's not like there's much choice," she answered. He couldn't help feeling a little saddened by her words, not that it wasn't to be expected.

The temperature was dropping rapidly now that the sun had set and it was already extremely chilly. Elliot knew from experience that the night was likely going to be a very long one. The advantage of winter was that at least the threat of bears was probably minimal. The idea of wild animals was one that had crossed his mind and he had considered making a fire, but given how much dead underbrush and timber was around, he had decided it was too risky. Not only that, but there was also the risk the smoke might attract the attention of Ray. It was always possible he was still out there, searching for them. Huddling together in the small space of their makeshift shelter would probably keep them warm enough, he decided.

He noticed she was shivering. He could feel it where the side of her body was brushing against his.

"Liv, you're cold. Can I warm you up?"

He thought he could see her nodding. It was pitch black, with the moon and starlit sky only a minimal impact through the canopy.

Slowly he wrapped his legs and arms around her. He knew it was the best way for them both to stay warm. She was facing away from him and he was facing towards her. He couldn't see her face. After a minute or two he could feel her shivering subside and he knew it was doing the trick. He tried to concentrate on going to sleep, but the ground was hard and it was difficult to relax. He couldn't help worrying about their situation and how he was going to get her through this. The longer they went without food, the weaker she would get. It wasn't going to be easy to find anything more appetising than beetle grubs, of that he was fairly certain, given the season.

After a long while, he started to drift off. She hadn't moved in a while and her breathing was steady, so he assumed she had fallen asleep. He was half-asleep when he felt the movement. For a moment he thought she was just moving in her sleep but then he realised they were sobs. She must have been waiting for him to fall asleep. That thought in itself was heart-breaking and he realised how selfish he had been when he had willed her not to be crying earlier when she had turned away from him. Was she trying to protect him from seeing her pain? Was she trying to prove that she was strong enough on her own? Had he somehow inadvertently given her the impression that he couldn't cope with seeing her emotional response to everything that had happened.

He had a choice now. He could leave her to cry, giving her the privacy that perhaps she even thought she wanted, or he could let her know he was here for her, that it was perfectly OK to cry and that it didn't mean that she wasn't the person she always had been or that he would respect her any less.

He tightened his grasp on her, letting her know that he was awake and then he whispered into her ear.

"Liv, I'm here."

He could feel her tense.

"It's OK. You don't have to hide from me. I'm here, okay?" he told her.

"I'm sorry…" she began.

"No, don't apologise. Never apologise."

"It's not so bad when we're moving around. Just lying here… there's nothing to do but think," she said miserably.

"Liv, are you comfortable with turning around?"

"I guess," she said. He loosened his hold on her and she shifted so that she was now facing him. He immediately wrapped his limbs back around her. He could just make out the tears still coursing their way down her cheeks. Raising his hand, he gently wiped them and then pulled her head to his chest, holding her there tightly.

"I'm so sorry," he said. It was the only thing he could think of to say. Sorry for what had happened to her, sorry for not being able to prevent it, sorry they were now lost goodness knows where with a psychopath out there somewhere looking for them, sorry that instead of being allowed the space and time she needed to recover from this in her own way, she was now forced to cry in another man's arms, no doubt the last place she wanted to be after being viciously raped in front of him. He could feel his own tears pricking at his eyes now.

Impulsively he gently kissed her on her head. Aghast at his thoughtless action he waited for her to pull away, but she didn't. Instead she seemed to nuzzle in deeper to his chest and so he tightened his hold even more, burying his face into her hair. He wished he could tell her. With his body wrapped around hers it almost seemed like the perfect moment, but he knew he couldn't. Not after everything that had happened.

Wrapped in each others arms, they both eventually drifted off to sleep, their hold never loosening, their tears drying were they had fallen.


	16. Chapter 16

16

It was still dark when he woke. He had no idea what time it was, but could only guess it was sometime in the early hours of the morning. The air felt damp and it was freezing. He moved his toes around inside his shoes, relieved he could at least still feel them. He tightened his embrace around Olivia, hoping that he was keeping her warm enough. Her head was resting against his chest, almost in the exact same position it had been when they'd fallen asleep. He had to admit he enjoyed the sensation of having her so close to him. He hoped she would sleep a while longer. He was perfectly happy to hold her like this for however long she would let him.

He knew their situation wasn't good. They desperately needed food. However much she protested, there might really be no choice but to eat the grubs. He knew there would probably come a point when she would acquiesce out of sheer desperation. The thought almost made him feel guilty. She had been so adamant that she wouldn't go near the damn things.

As he lay there, the sun gradually began to make its appearance and the first weak rays began to penetrate through the trees, allowing him to see his surroundings little by little. He was slightly disturbed to notice the huge spider's web barely thirty centimetres from his head. All the training in the world hadn't been able to quell his genuine dislike for the eight-legged creatures. This web was obviously long abandoned, however. It was torn, with shreds of carefully woven silk hanging limply from the tree trunk. He hoped its former occupant was long gone.

He absent-mindedly stroked her hair. He wasn't even sure why. He didn't want to wake her. It was like he had no control over his need to be touching her, soothing her in any way. For years she had stood by his side, as tough as any male he had ever worked with, perhaps even more so given the challenges she had faced as a woman in their job. For a long while he had often found his thoughts returning to that time she had been stabbed in the neck in the bus station, but he didn't like to think so much of then. Their relationship had been rocky back then when he had been unwilling to accept how much she was starting to mean to him. Then several years later, when she had been taken by Rojas and Porter had made the shot and she had fallen to the ground, the fear had ripped at his entire being. In those few seconds, as he rushed over to her, he had faced the very real possibility of losing her, he had known for sure that it was so much more than partnership: it always had been.

How had this happened? They had finally been about to go out on a real date. He had been planning all day what he would say to her, how he would tell her. It just wasn't fair. None of this was. Sitting there, chained to the pipe while that bastard had raped her literally steps from where he was; it was all still incomprehensible. He had heard every single sickening sound, every heartbreaking moan she had made, the eager grunting of the animal who had violated her, every beat of his own heart as it had thundered in his chest. There was nothing he could do and it was the worst feeling in the world.

How could he tell her now? How could she possibly get over the humiliation of what she had endured? What hope did they have any more? Could there be a future for them after this? This was all assuming they got out of their current predicament alive of course. Not getting out wasn't an option though. He was determined to make sure of that.

The sun was continuing to rise and she still hadn't woken. It was starting to concern him. The lack of food combined with the injuries and trauma she had suffered were no doubt contributing to her exhaustion. They needed to get up, find something to eat and keep moving though. The longer they stayed here, the worse it would get. So he made the decision to wake her.

"Liv," he whispered gently in her ear. "It's time to move. Come on, wake up. We need to keep going."

She stirred and opened her eyes staring at him groggily as she took in her surroundings and remembered where they were. He watched her warily for she made absolutely no other movement other than opening her eyes.

"Liv, come on. Let's get you out of here." Rather than crawling back out the way they had come in, instead he pushed aside the branches that they had laid against the tree trunk the evening before and made an exit that way. She still had her head resting heavily against his shoulders and unbelievably he realised she had closed her eyes again.

"Liv!" he said more sharply. "Wake up!"

This time she started and he could feel her shifting as she finally raised her head from his chest.

"I'm so tired, El," she muttered listlessly. Once again he felt the familiar sensation of the steadily growing knot of fear in his stomach. This was not looking good. How on earth was she going to walk? She could barely raise her head.

"Liv, I know you're not going to like this, but you are going to have to eat something."

This got her attention. She sat up straighter now, slightly more alert, he thought.

"Not those horrible beetle things," she said.

"You need food. I promise it will be worth it. It'll give you some energy and make you feel so much better. I know they look disgusting, but they're really not that bad. Please, Liv. For me."

"Have you eaten one before?"

"Sure!" he said quickly, deciding a little white lie would be admissible, given the circumstances.

"Will you eat one first?" she asked.

"Yes," he said instantly, ecstatic that he seemed to have convinced her.

Feigning a confidence that deep down he wasn't entirely certain he possessed, he returned to the small log he had found the beetle larvae under the previous evening. He had returned the log to its original position after her adamant refusal to go near them, so luckily they were still there. Doing his utmost to hide his own actual revulsion, he picked one up between his thumb and forefinger and then deciding that waiting was just going to prolong the agony, he deftly popped it into his mouth and began to chew.

The texture and taste were just as bad as he had imagined they would be and it was all he could do not to grimace in disgust. He could see her watching him intently as he chewed a couple of times before deciding that expediting the swallowing process and getting the unpleasant thing out of his mouth as fast as possible would be the best course of action. Relieved he had got through the ordeal he reached back down, deliberately picking out one of the larger ones and holding it out to her. He knew that it was very unlikely he could convince her to get more than one of these things down and so he wanted to make it count. For a few seconds she stared at him hesitantly and then to his relief she finally took it between her fingers.

"I can't believe I am doing this," she said.

"It's going to be fine. Just do it. Then it's gone."

Slowly, she placed the thing in her mouth. He watched her expression of repulsion as she began to chew and he began to encourage her.

"Just swallow it, Liv. It's not so bad once it's out of your mouth. We can go and get some water then and get rid of the taste.

Her eyes were watering, as she struggled to swallow the grub. He wondered for a second if she would hate him for ever more, for making her do this. Then it was over. She had swallowed it. She leaned forward on her knees, her head bent low.

"El, I think I'm going to be sick," she stammered.

"No, Liv. You can't. It's over. You did it. Try to put it out of your mind. Think of anything else. Come on, let's go and get some water."

"That was the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten," she said. He felt bad, but the sheer dejection in her tone, made him want to chuckle. He had never seen her look so revolted about anything.

"You did great," he said. "I'm so proud of you."

Their eyes met and he knew that his words had hit home. It was a huge achievement to push through and do something so naturally abhorrent.

"I really mean that," he added earnestly You did amazing.

"Thanks, El," she replied somewhat awkwardly. She never had been great at accepting a compliment.

They headed over to the tiny brook and drank as much water as they could, desperate to get the lingering taste out of their mouths.

"You know I think we ought to follow this and see where it leads," Elliot said.

"What about heading north?" she asked.

"That was before we found this. Following water is always the safest option. We won't have to worry about finding something to drink and water will eventually lead us to a river and likely civilization."

"Well you're the expert," she said.

"Not really. It's been a while!" he said.

"Well you know an awful lot more about this stuff than I do."

"Are you ready to set off?"

"Sure," she said. She hated to admit it, but it seemed he had been right. That horrible grub had already seemed to give her an energy boost. She was determined to use it, with the hope that if they could find their way out quickly, she would never need to go near anything like that ever again in her whole life.

"You know, once we get out of here, I am never leaving the city again!" she said grumpily.

"That is fine by me!" he said grinning.

…

The brook had proved to be an infuriating path. They had struggled over rocks and thick undergrowth, almost lost it entirely when it disappeared underground at one point. It had been pure chance that they had come across it again. Maybe it wasn't even the same one. Eventually though it did widen and become more like a stream. The hope was it would eventually join a river. They had already been walking for hours and there was still no sign of civilization. As the sun ended its climb in the sky and began its downward journey, Elliot began to mentally prepare for the likelihood that they would have to spend another night out here.

"Liv," he said when they paused for another break. He could see she was tiring again. He was tired himself. He wasn't sure how much longer they could carry on like this.

"We're going to have to spend another night out here, aren't we?" she said.

"We still have a couple more hours, but it's looking like that. We're both exhausted and we're not making very fast progress."

"Elliot, I can't do this."

He looked at her in alarm. This was so unlike her.

"You can, Liv… You have to."

"I don't feel good." Another admission that sent alarm bells ringing in his head. She was not a complainer. If she said she didn't feel good, then she was serious.

"Let's rest, okay?" he said, glancing at her pale face worriedly.

"Look, over here. There's a log."

He reached his hand out towards her and she took a small step. Then she paused and started to sway dizzily. He put his arm around her to steady her, just as she lost her balance completely. He was unable to stop it, but he was at least able to break her fall to the ground, no doubt preventing further injury.

"Liv!" he cried, desperate for a response that would let him know she was okay, but there was no reply.


	17. Chapter 17

17

"Liv!" he repeated desperately. He had sunk down to the ground with her as she had fallen and was now cradling her head in his lap. As each second passed, he felt like his chest was constricting tighter and tighter and that he was struggling to find enough oxygen to breathe. She urgently needed to get checked out in a hospital, yet they were miles from anywhere. The idea of carrying her any significant distance seemed absurd, but what was he supposed to do if she didn't wake up? Abandon her to go for help? That seemed even more preposterous.

"Liv, please, please open your eyes," he begged her. She couldn't die out here. She couldn't. He knew he was thinking the worst. He tried to tell himself she was going to be okay, that she would open her eyes, they'd take a short rest and she'd be as right as rain, but it was hard to keep the all-consuming fear that she wouldn't be at bay. Every second felt like a minute and he was starting to completely lose track of time. Finally after what felt like an eternity, he saw her eyelids flutter.

"Liv!" he exclaimed with relief. "Can you hear me?"

She stared up at him, a confused look on her face, no doubt a result of her waking up to find herself in this position on his lap. She started to try and sit up."

"No, don't move," he instructed her. "You fainted. Let's take this slow, okay?"

"I just remember suddenly feeling dizzy," she said. "Then I woke up here. How long was I out?"

"Just a minute or two, I think."

"It hurts," she said placing her hand to her hip and wincing.

"You must have hit it going down," he said. "Let me take a look."

She carefully pulled her clothes aside for him just enough so he could see the injury. He quickly inspected the area, noting the beginning of a huge bruise forming.

"I'm sorry, I thought I'd blocked your fall better," he said. "Looks like you'll have a nasty bruise there."

"It was already bruised from where he threw me down in the van," she said. "This fall must have made it worse."

"Yeah, probably," he said sadly, the memory of their captivity hitting hard. It was surreal, almost as though it had all been in his imagination, yet at the same time so vividly real. He absent-mindedly moved his hands so that they cupped her face, resting them gently against her pale skin.

"Your hands are nice and warm," she stated, making no sign that she was uncomfortable with the intimate touch.

"Are you cold?" he asked, concerned.

"A little," she admitted.

"Are you ready to try sitting up?"

She nodded.

"Slowly, okay?"

He helped her into a sitting position and then removed his jacket and began to wrap it around her shoulders.

"No, Elliot. You need it…"

"I'm fine, honestly."

Too tired to argue with him, she relented.

"We should rest here for a little while, before carrying on," he said. He hated to push her, especially given her obvious fragile physical state, but he was starting to seriously worry now whether they would actually be able to walk out of this. It was only going to get worse. If it wasn't for the fact that no one knew they were here, he would have stayed in one spot and waited for help to arrive, but no one knew they were out here. They were on their own. Their only real chance was to keep moving and find help.

"I'll be okay," she said, as though sensing his uncertainty. "Just give me a few minutes."

"I'm sorry, Liv," he said. "We have to keep moving though, you understand."

"I know," she said wearily.

…

They rested for a short while before moving off again. As they walked through the afternoon, it seemed she needed to rest more and more frequently. Progress was frustratingly slow and Elliot kept looking upwards anxiously at the position of the sun. Then yet another bout of dizziness hit her and this time she sank to the ground placing her head between her knees while she waited for it to pass. Elliot was hovering close by, watching her uneasily, also glancing around their bleak surroundings, knowing that they probably ought to call it a day and start to think about finding another temporary shelter for the night.

"Maybe you should go on without me," she said, taking him completely by surprise.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said immediately, drawing closer. "I'm not leaving you."

"But I'm slowing you down. Maybe you could go on ahead and find and bring help?"

"Liv, I'm not leaving you here," he insisted again.

"But, I don't think I can walk any further. I really don't."

He knew she wasn't over-exaggerating. She looked like she was on the verge of collapsing. He still wasn't willing to accept it however.

"You can. You will," He told her firmly, shuffling even closer and placing a hand supportively on her shoulder as he spoke.

"I'm so tired, El. I don't think I've ever felt this tired in my whole life."

"You haven't eaten in three days. It's to be expected."

"You haven't fainted," she mumbled, her eyes downcast in shame.

"Liv, you can't compare yourself to me like that. Besides, you're injured. You were used as a punching bag by that bastard. You could have internal injuries or anything."

"Elliot, please listen to me. I know leaving me here isn't ideal, but the longer you go without food, the weaker you will get too. If you go now, while you still have some strength left, you might find something. You can bring help back for me and get us out of here." She shifted her hand to his knee as she spoke. He wasn't sure if she meant it as an attempt to comfort him or persuade him, perhaps it was both. He fought the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes.

"I can't leave you, Liv," he said, his voice catching and changing to a whisper. "Don't ask me to."

"Even if it saves my life?"

He didn't answer. He knew deep down she was right. The thought of leaving her behind was unbearable, but not getting her out of here would be worse. What if he left her and something happened though? What if he didn't get back in time? What if Ray found her? How would he ever be able to live with himself if she died out here and he survived?

"Elliot," she whispered, raising her hand and bringing it to his face. "Do this - for me."

Slowly, he nodded. "Okay. I'll go and get help, but not tonight. It'll be dark in a couple of hours anyway. I'll leave at first light and then hopefully I'll be back with help before dusk."

"Okay," she said. They left the obvious unsaid: they both knew there was no guarantee he would find somewhere that quickly or even that he would find anywhere at all.

…

Elliot set to work hunting around for materials to use to make a shelter. Unfortunately he was unable to spot another fallen log to use. However, instead he found a low rocky outcrop with a slight overhang which he knew would be a good base for a shelter. He was determined to take his time making it as insulated as possible, to make her as comfortable as he could while he was away. The idea of actually walking away the next day appalled him. He knew without a doubt it would be one of the hardest things he would ever have to do in his life. He had promised her he would get help though. He had to do it.

"You need to drink some water," he told her, on the way back from fetching some more branches. She was curled up in a sitting position on the floor, her knees up and her head resting on them wearily.

"Later," she muttered.

"No! Now!" he said firmly. "You're probably dehydrated. It's probably part of the reason you are feeling so tired." Seeing no attempt on her behalf to move, despite his pleas, he reached for her hands and grabbed them, pulling her upwards to her feet.

"El, just leave me alone," she said miserably.

"No! I won't. You need water. Come on."

Reluctantly she followed him to the edge of the little stream they had been following and they both sank to their knees alongside. He watched approvingly as she dipped her hands in the cold water and brought the vital liquid to her lips.

"If you don't promise me that you will drink as much water as you can, I won't leave you tomorrow" he said.

"I will. I promise," she said, looking straight into his eyes as she spoke.

"Good," he replied.

…

The night was once again long and cold. Elliot hardly slept as he held her, his body wrapped tightly around hers in an attempt to share as much of his body heat as he could. She had fallen asleep almost straight away, but he lay there pondering the situation, going through every single possibility, trying to decide if leaving her behind really was the only way. He really couldn't think of any alternatives. He had even briefly considered returning to the place Ray had held them, but it seemed too much of a risk. If he was still there, he knew he would kill them without a second thought.

When the morning sun finally began to peek through the canopy, Elliot sighed. This was it. He gently woke her, ensured that she drank from the stream and then made his final preparations, including adding some extra insulation to her shelter. There was finally nothing left to do but leave. He crouched opposite when she was seated and reached out taking her hands in his. Her skin felt cold and clammy and once again the doubts crept in and he almost abandoned the idea of leaving completely. He reminded himself once again that it was the right thing to do: the only thing to do.

"Do you really think you could be back as soon as this evening?" she asked.

"I'm going to do my absolute best, Liv," he said determinedly. I promise you I won't stop until I reach help and I'll come straight back for you."

"Okay," she said. He saw the unflinching trust in her brown eyes which were swimming with tears and he reached for her, drawing her in close to him, holding her tightly against his chest. He couldn't hold it in any more. He needed her to know.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, the intensity of the moment causing tears to slide freely down his cheeks. He could feel her attempting to pull away, to raise her head, but he held on to her tightly. He couldn't face the possibility of looking into her eyes and seeing any kind of discomfort at his admission there.

She was too weak to effectively resist his hold. Instead, with her head still pressed firmly against his chest, she whispered the same words back to him.

"I love you too."

Dazed, he released his grasp and as she raised her head, their eyes met and he saw the certainty and genuineness in her expression and utterly overwhelmed, he leaned in and kissed her firmly on the lips. He continued to shower her with kisses as the tears streamed down his face.

"I can't…" he managed to stammer.

"You have to," she replied, her own voice equally thick with tears. "It's the only chance we have to be together."

Nodding, he kissed her again and then he released her.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised her.

"I know," she said, stoically wiping her eyes, trying to pull herself together for him, trying not to let him see just how much him leaving her was actually tearing her apart.

"I really do love you, you know," he said.

"I know. I love you too."

He watched the tears roll down her cheeks, so distraught that he didn't even feel his own. Then he began to walk away.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N Thank you so much for the reviews. I am really enjoying writing this. I am not sure I will be able to post another chapter tomorrow, as unfortunately I have a lot of work to get done, but I will do my best to post as soon as I can. Thanks for reading. **

18

She watched him leave, the tears rolling down her cheeks relentlessly. He loved her. He had actually told her that he loved her. His words had filled her with hope and joy, yet at the same time they had ripped at her heart. Maybe it would have been easier to watch him go if he hadn't had said those words. She remembered how he had wrapped his body around hers the previous two nights and how she had closed her eyes, breathing in his scent, allowing his embrace to completely envelop her. For a brief moment she had forgotten every horrible thing that had happened; the humiliating and degrading experience she had suffered at the hands of Ray, the fact they were lost out here in the middle of nowhere, the fact that her stomach was so empty it physically hurt and the fact that her body ached all over in every single spot she had been hit or kicked or where her body had made contact with the floor when he had thrown her down.

She was so cold and so tired. The chilly winter air had seeped through her clothes, through the jacket that Elliot had insisted she wear and her body felt overwhelmingly heavy. She had never known such exhaustion in her whole life. Her stomach growled and she tried to turn her thoughts away from the image of food and to anything at all that would take her mind off the fact that she was so hungry she was considering hunting around for more of those horrible creatures Elliot had been so insistent she consume the day before.

Elliot. He had been so sweet. His concern for her had been truly touching. It brought fresh tears to her eyes as she remembered how he had supported her through the last two days. He loved her. He had really said it.

She wondered if he would actually succeed in finding and bringing help. She didn't doubt he would keep his promise. She just wasn't sure how long she would be able to hold out. All she wanted to do was sleep. At least while unconscious she didn't have to feel. Her dreams could take her anywhere; preferably back into his arms, a place where she felt warm and safe.

Her mouth was dry. She knew she was thirsty and that she needed water, but moving would be so much effort. Tucked away in the shelter, curled up in a tight ball as she was, it at least offered some protection from the cold wind outside. Leaving would take even that small comfort away. Yet she had promised Elliot she would drink. The thought of breaking that promise sent a wave of guilt through her. He was out there, trying to find help for her. The least she could do is to keep her word. He deserved that much.

So, slowly, she dragged herself out of the shelter and painstakingly made her way down to the stream. Leaving the shelter really brought home just how alone she was out here. Every single one of her senses seemed heightened. She jumped at the sound of a particularly strong gust of wind. She squinted through the trees, at one point convinced she could make out the shape of some kind of wild animal, before realising it was just an odd shaped tree stump. The idea sent fear rippling down her spine. What if there were wild animals out here. What if they were just waiting for the chance to take a weakened 'prey'? How would she be able to defend herself? She barely had the energy to make her way down to the water's edge to drink. She felt pathetic. What had happened to the strong and determined person she had been before Ray had taken away every sense of who she was.

But he loved her. He had said the words and she believed them. She had to believe them. It was the only bit of comfort she could cling on to out here, alone. After quenching her thirst, she made her way back inside the shelter. The weather was worsening. If it rained, she would be in serious trouble. Surely it wouldn't get much colder than this? She curled up into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees and closed her eyes, trying to imagine that it was Elliot holding her, that she was safe in his arms and that it was his breath she could feel on her neck, not the cold wind that was coming through the entrance to the shelter.

She closed her eyes, glad to give in to the fatigue as sleep took her away from her living nightmare once again.

…

Elliot knew he wouldn't be able to maintain this pace for much longer. His stomach was growling, his weakened muscles were protesting. He suspected it was pure adrenaline and sheer determination that were pushing him on. He had to acknowledge he was covering ground at a good rate. Every so often he would stop to leave a mark to make sure he found the way back to her later. He continued onward, desperately pleading with God to help him find something quickly.

When he saw the ground beginning to rise upwards, he realized that this was his chance. If he could make it to the top of the hill, he might be able to see the terrain better and work out which direction to head in to find help. With a renewed sense of purpose he forced himself to carry on walking, pushing his tired body to its limits.

At the top of the hill he stood trying to catch his breath. He scanned the horizon eagerly. Then he caught sight of a forest cabin ahead in a clearing. The relief washed over him as he hurried on forward. The cabin looked like it might be at least a couple of miles away, but if he could keep going in the right direction he should reach it within the hour. Assuming there was a telephone inside, help could be available within hours.

…

Olivia opened her eyes. Once again her mouth was dry. Mindful of her promise to Elliot, she forced herself back out of the shelter and down to the stream. As she drank, she remembered how Elliot had encouraged her to drink before he had left and smiled as she remembered the feel of his lips on hers. She knew her thoughts were becoming jumbled. She was beginning to find it difficult to recognize what was real and what was her imagination. Events were combining in her mind. A fresh wave of dizziness hit and she placed her head between her knees. Then she heard the crack of a branch or something on the ground. Was something, someone approaching? The sound had come from the opposite direction to the one Elliot had gone in. Had he circled round and come back for her? Had Ray found her? Was it an animal?

She froze for several seconds. She had no idea what to do. She grabbed at a small rock and clutched it, aware that it was a desperate last resort. She very much doubted she would be effective in defending herself from any kind of attack with just a small stone.

"Elliot?" she called. There was no reply. There was no further noise. She must be imagining things. The loneliness was obviously getting to her. She started to crawl back to the shelter. She slipped inside, just as the first flakes began to fall from the sky.

…

Elliot grimaced at the snowflakes dancing in front of his face. The first few were intermittent, but soon it was coming down thick and fast. He quickened his pace, his concern for Olivia now all-encompassing. He seriously doubted she would survive a night out in this, even in the shelter. He desperately needed to get help and quickly. He walked as fast as he could in the direction of the cabin, ignoring his body's discomfort, focused on just getting there.

Finally he reached the clearing and saw the cabin in front of him. The relief was staggering. There was a stony track leading away and he knew the presence of a road meant that help was finally within reach. He raced over to the door, easily managing to break the padlock with a rock. He pushed open the door and made his way inside, squinting in the poor light. The snow outside was already beginning to settle on the ground, despite the fact they were in a fairly thick forest. Of course, being winter, the canopy was mostly made up of branches and dead leaves so the flakes had no trouble filtering through.

He saw the telephone and raised the receiver with bated breath, thanking God with all his heart when he heard the dial tone. He immediately dialed 911 and called for urgent assistance, giving them as many details as he could about his surroundings. He knew they would be able to trace the phone number and work out which cabin they were in. It was a huge relief to find out they were still in New York State. The emergency services instructed him to remain where he was and not to attempt to wander back through the forest and risk getting lost. He called Cragen next, informing him of everything that had happened over the last couple of days, including a very brief outline of the ordeal Olivia had suffered. He didn't want to go into too many personal details. She deserved the right to reveal what had happened on her own terms.

He peered outside. At least the snow had let up a little. He was worried that heavy snow would cover his tracks and make finding her again extremely difficult, if not impossible. It seemed that finally luck was on their side. There was a light dusting of snow over the ground, but not enough to be too much of an impediment to finding his way back to her. The sky was an ominous grey, however. He wasn't certain how long the storm would hold off. He hoped that help would arrive soon. Waiting like this was torture.

…

She smiled weakly as she remembered that birthday a couple of years ago. She had been feeling down and really not up to celebrating. Birthdays just tended to emphasize how alone she really was since she had no one to celebrate with. Her latest fling had ended a couple of weeks earlier, as they always inevitably seemed to do and Cragen had hit her with overtime at the last minute. By the time she had dragged herself home to her apartment, she had been ready to just curl up on the sofa and drown her sorrows in a bottle of wine. Instead he had surprised her by turning up with a cake. It hadn't been much, just a small sponge cake he had picked up somewhere on the way back home, but the fact he had remembered had touched her deeply. She hadn't mentioned the fact it was her birthday at work and since he hadn't either, she had assumed he had forgotten.

She remembered how that night, after a couple of beers, just as he was leaving, he had unusually taken her into his arms and hugged her tight. They didn't hug often. She could probably count on one hand the number of times they had been in such close physical contact, but that night it hadn't felt awkward. It had been nice. She had realized then that maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought she had been and it had warmed her heart her to know he was there; he was a true friend.

Her thoughts quickly jumped to how just that morning he had finally kissed her. She ran her tongue over her lips. She could almost taste him still. His lips, the skin slightly rough on the outside had pressed against hers and it was as though her whole body had melted into his. When he had pulled away she had wanted to grab him and pull him back, let him know that his lips belonged on hers and that she wouldn't ever let him leave. But she hadn't. She had to let him go. She needed him to get out of this forest and survive this. He had children who needed him. She was just slowing him down. She loved him too much to let him sacrifice himself for her.

She opened her eyes briefly once again taking in her harsh surroundings. There was a thin layer of snow on the ground and she had never seen anywhere so bleak looking. The only sound was the wind whistling through the trees. This reality was too hard. She closed her eyes, much preferring to stick with the memories. The story of the little match girl briefly came into her head. As a girl she had cried when she had first heard how the little girl had desperately tried to keep her hope alive by lighting match after match so that she wouldn't lose the image of her dearest grandmother. She felt a little like that now. Keeping her eyes closed, she could imagine she wasn't in this bleak place, but instead with Elliot. It was so much easier that way.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N I am so happy I managed to squeeze in the time to write this tonight (even though I will be knackered for work tomorrow now, lol). I am so caught up in this story, it's on my mind constantly. Just had to get this chapter out. **

19

Elliot paced up and down impatiently. They were taking so long and waiting was killing him. He was torn. He wanted to rush back to her, tell her that help was on its way and let her know she didn't have to be on her own a second longer, but he knew waiting was the sensible thing to do. He needed to make sure he led the rescue team straight to her as quickly as possible. He returned to the doorway of the cabin, peering down the stony track, dismayed to see fresh flurries of snowflakes start to fall. How much longer would they be? It was vital they get to her before dark. She wouldn't survive a night in sub-zero temperatures, he was certain of that.

"Please hang on, Liv," he said quietly, before saying another prayer to God pleading that she would be okay.

It suddenly occurred to him to take a better look around this place. Maybe there was some food left behind? If he could find something to eat it would help give him some extra strength for the trek back to her. Maybe he could find something and take it for her too?

He started opening the cupboards, but to his disappointment most were completely bare and none contained any food. It wasn't the end of the world though, he decided. The rescue team would no doubt bring food.

He thought he could hear the sound of a vehicle. Excitedly, he stepped outside and saw he had been right. Finally they had arrived.

A tall stocky sandy-haired guy in his fifties leapt out of the lead vehicle and headed over to him quickly.

"You must be Elliot Stabler?" he said. "I'm Dan Wallace, the head of the local rescue service."

"Hurry, we have to get to her, Elliot said. Introductions could be made on the way as far as he was concerned.

"Lead the way!" Dan told him, yelling back to a couple of guys to grab the emergency gear.

"What was her condition when you left her?" Dan asked, maintaining a good pace as he handed Elliot an energy bar. Elliot took it gratefully and tore open the wrapper with his teeth. The cold truth of Dan's remark hurt. He had left her. He knew the guilt about that would stay with him for a long while, if not forever.

"Not good," he said, trying to focus his thoughts on giving the information that might help these guys better prepare. There would be plenty of time for regrets later. "She's been beaten and hasn't eaten for three days. She was exhausted, fainted at one point and was too dizzy to walk after that. I didn't want to leave her there, but I had to get help. She couldn't have gone on much further and every hour that passed she was getting more and more exhausted."

"You did the right thing."

"We'll see when we find her." Elliot appreciated Dan's attempt to console him, but he knew that if something had happened to her, he would never be able to live with that. He shoved the empty wrapper into his pocket.

"Here, have another one!" Dan offered, handing him another cereal bar. Elliot hesitated. He knew he needed the energy but after not eating for so long, his stomach was already protesting.

"Maybe in a bit," he said.

"Are you okay?" Dan asked, concerned for he had noticed Elliot's obvious discomfort. "Do you want to stop?"

"No!" he said adamantly.

They carried on walking, Elliot and Dan leading the small group, the others hurrying behind. They were carrying a foldable stretcher, blankets, hot tea and soup and various other supplies. It seemed more than likely they would have to carry Olivia back to the rescue vehicle, so had come prepared for that.

Elliot suddenly paused as he tried to find his bearings. He had missed the marker he had placed. It was still snowing, although thankfully it was light and intermittent. The guys had told him a big storm was on its way in, another reason to find her as soon as they could.

"Is everything okay?" Dan asked, glancing at the grey sky, visibly concerned.

"I'm sure it must be this way," Elliot said. "I remember that overhang."

"If you're sure, then let's go." The situation was getting urgent.

"Elliot didn't reply, but started heading in the direction he had chosen. He was fairly sure, but he wasn't certain. One tree really did look like another.

Five minutes later he sighed in relief as he recognised the broken twig he had left. He had been right.

Every step they took was one closer to reaching her. The anticipation was beginning to build. What state would she be in whey they found her? How would she react knowing that he was back with help, like he had promised? What would happen between them after the words they had exchanged earlier before he had left? Had she just answered in kind because of their drastic situation? Did she really mean what she had said? How could he expect anything at all from her though, after everything she had been through? She was a victim. This thing, whatever it was, between them was probably the last thing she needed now. The thought that she might not want what he wanted was sobering. What did it matter now though? The important thing was that she was okay.

Finally they turned the corner and he could see the shelter. He started to run towards it, calling out her name, telling her that she was safe now; help had arrived, but there was no reply. A terrible sense of foreboding began to permeate his whole being. Then as he drew closer he could actually see into the shelter and he stared in disbelief. This couldn't be right. He stepped right up, peered inside, then turned aghast to Dan who had matched his pace and was right behind him.

"She's gone!"

His knees felt weak and he suddenly had to sit down. This was his fault. He should never have left her. What could have happened to her? Could Ray have got to her? The thought made him want to vomit. Overwhelmed, he allowed his head to fall into his hands. His worst nightmare had come true. They were too late. He had failed her. He wanted to die.

"Elliot, look!" Dan was pointing at the snow, but Elliot was too distraught to really take in the meaning.

"Come on, man!" Dan said harshly. "Get it together. She must have gone that way."

"But why?" Elliot said, suddenly realising what Dan was pointing at: footprints.

"Let's find her and ask her," Dan said shrugging. He knew from experience that if she was disorientated enough to wander away from her shelter, it was vital now more than ever to find her. He had seen all kinds of erratic behaviour when dealing with hypothermia victims and given the weather conditions, in his view, it was more than likely it was that she was suffering from.

"There's only one set of footprints!" Elliot muttered, his eyes transfixed on the ground.

Dan gave him a quizzical glance.

"Long story," Elliot said, remembering that the rescue team hadn't actually been party to all the finer details of their situation.

Luckily Dan was nothing if not focused on the job and didn't waste any time by pressing for details.

The tracks were haphazard. She must have been wandering in an extremely disorientated manner. Why on earth had she left the relative safety of the shelter? What had she been trying to achieve?

"Over there!" Dan exclaimed. Elliot looked in the direction he was pointing and then he saw it. The darkened shape huddled on the ground, not moving. His heart sank as he recognised his jacket. He raced over as fast as could.

"Liv!" he exclaimed. She didn't even look up when he approached. She was shivering violently, her lips had a bluish tint to them and she was just staring ahead muttering something he couldn't make out.

"Liv," he said, sinking down to her level and placing his hands on her arms. "It's me, Elliot. I've brought help. Everything's going to be okay now."

There was only a faint hint of recognition in her eyes.

"Elliot?" she mumbled confusedly. The way her teeth were chattering, he was surprised she could get any words out at all. He could barely make out what she was saying, only able to pick out a few sentences here and there, not that anything made much sense to him. "I told him it was in the file… I told them everything… I couldn't stop it… Besides, it wasn't your fault... Do you have the right key? No, don't. Please. Stop."

He could hear the catch in her voice during the last part. She must be remembering something and he feared it wasn't something very pleasant.

"Liv," he said again gently, his eyes moist. "Liv, it's me Elliot. Help has arrived. Everything is going to be okay now."

She smiled weakly, but didn't say anything further.

"I think she has hypothermia," Dan said, who had been watching the brief interchange attentively. I think we need to start warming her up before we attempt to move her."

"Shouldn't we get her to a hospital as fast as we can?" Elliot asked.

"Yes, but if we don't intervene now and it worsens, she could go into shock before we even get back to the road. She looks and sounds like she's on the verge of severe hypothermia. We need to act quickly and try to avoid that."

"What can I do?"

"We need to get her core temperature up. Can you encourage her to drink some tea or some soup? It will help to warm her up from the inside."

Elliot nodded, taking the flask that one of the other group members thrust into his hands.

"Liv, sweetheart, you need to drink this," he encouraged her.

She stared at him and shook her head vehemently. "No, I'm not thirsty. Please just leave me alone. Elliot will find me soon. He promised. He'll be back."

"Liv!" he repeated. "It is Elliot. It's me. Look at me. Look at my face. See? It's me."

She looked at him and he finally saw the recognition in her eyes.

"El," she whispered. "I knew you'd come. I knew you wouldn't leave me."

"Never again!" he said, pulling her close and holding her tightly. Maybe his own body heat could help to warm her up, in the same way they had kept each other warm in the shelter the last two nights.

"You could try skin to skin contact," Dan suggested.

"You think that would work?" Elliot asked doubtfully. He had vaguely heard of this approach to warming a hypothermia victim in an emergency before though and right now, he was willing to try anything.

"It's vital we raise her core temperature," Dan said

Elliot looked at Olivia. Could he really do this? She was mumbling something incoherent again. She was in no state to give permission to do something so intimate, yet if he didn't her life could be in danger. But after everything she had been through though, he couldn't risk traumatising her further. He needed her permission. He just hoped she would truly understand what he was asking.

"Liv," he whispered in her ear, his mouth so close he was almost touching it.

"Elliot," she said, filling him with renewed confidence that maybe this was going to be okay.

"You're too cold. I need to warm you up."

"OK," she said grinning comically, making him wonder if she really grasped what he was saying. He took the blanket that Dan was holding out to him and wrapped it around them both. He realised she wasn't shivering as hard and it sent a fresh wave of fear through him. He knew that when a hypothermia victim stopped shivering, it was bad.

He started to remove his upper garments. She watched him curiously, an odd smile on her face.

"Liv, if you let me remove your top and hold you, my body heat will warm you up more quickly. Would that be ok?"

She nodded slowly and so he gently slipped his jacket off her shoulders. Meeting no protest, he began to slowly unbutton her blouse.

"Are you sure this is ok?" he asked, wanting confirmation before he fully exposed her to him.

She nodded, so he continued, slipping her arm through and removing her blouse, trying to keep the blanket around them both as best he could, wanting to preserve her privacy in front of the rescue team. She was wearing a black lacy bra underneath her blouse and he considered removing that too, but he couldn't. It felt like it would be going too far. So he pulled her back close to him, feeling her icy cold skin against his. He pulled the blanket tighter around their shoulders and Dan stepped up and wrapped a second and then a third blanket around them tightly. He also wrapped a towel around her head.

She was pressed firmly against him now and he was acutely aware of her breasts pushing against his chest through her thin bra. He had been crouching in front of her, but now he pulled her completely onto his lap, holding her as tight as he dared, mindful not to hurt her. She laid her head on his shoulder contentedly and closed her eyes.

"She's so cold," Elliot said to Dan who was hovering beside them.

"You're doing great," Dan encouraged him.

After ten minutes he was starting to get uncomfortable, but he refused to move. She had started shivering again, which he knew was an excellent sign that she was warming up.

After another ten minutes, he had lost all feeling in his legs from the weight of her in this position, but still he refused to move. Then finally she shifted, raising her head.

"Elliot," she said. There was something about her voice. She just sounded more lucid.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Thank you," she said.

He kissed her on the forehead, tears filling his eyes. It was working. She was slowly warming up. She was coming back.


	20. Chapter 20

20

"Can you try and drink some soup?" Dan asked. She nodded and allowed the sturdy man to place the cup to her lips, sipping at it slowly. She and Elliot were so tightly entangled that it was impossible for either of them to move much, much less remove an arm to grasp a cup. After going without food for so long, they both needed to take it slowly. The fluids would keep them warm though, so it was important they drink some. Elliot watched Olivia close her eyes as she sipped, knowing exactly what was going through her head. She was no doubt feeling self-conscious at being so helpless that she needed a stranger to hold a cup to her lips. He could read her like a book. After she had indicated she had had enough, Dan offered some to Elliot in the same way and he drank eagerly, glad he could show her that at least they were going through this together.

"We should think about setting off soon," Dan said curtly, to the point as ever. Elliot could tell he was one of those outdoorsy types who were a lot more comfortable out in the wilderness than back in civilization dealing with people. He didn't make any attempt to talk to Olivia, or comfort her or even explain what was going on. He was simply all business. The other team members were much the same. They had unfolded the stretcher and were just waiting quietly, only speaking when it was pertinent to their mission.

"Liv, they're going to carry you back to the cabin I told you about by stretcher," Elliot told her. "Then we'll be able to get you to the hospital." Even though Olivia had obviously warmed up a little, he knew it was still vital that they get her medical attention as soon as possible. She grimaced at his words and he smiled to herself. Even in her current critical condition, she still balked at the idea. He knew how much she hated hospitals.

"Do we really have to move?" she asked drowsily.

"Yes. We can't stay here. It's freezing and the snowstorm is supposed to worsen considerably overnight. We need to get on the road and out of here before it hits."

"OK," she sighed. Gingerly, Elliot disentangled himself from her, quickly pulling his clothes back on, and together he and Dan got her comfortable on the stretcher, wrapping her tightly with the thermal blankets. He was careful to talk her through it all, mindful of the fact that she was probably feeling extremely vulnerable right now. Then two of the guys grabbed an end each and they set off. Elliot walked right beside her, making sure that he stayed in her line of sight.

"How far away is the hospital?" Elliot asked.

"Maybe a thirty minute drive," Dan said.

"That far?" Elliot sighed.

…

Elliot was staring at Olivia worriedly. She looked awful. He'd never seen anyone looking so pallid; her skin looked positively grey. He imagined that if she were actually any worse she would be unconscious. She was staring up but it was obvious she wasn't taking anything in. Her eyes were open, but he suspected she was somewhere else completely. He couldn't catch her gaze at all. They were going as quickly as they could, but inevitably the stretcher was slowing them down. The sky had turned even greyer over the last twenty minutes and the snowflakes were coming down thick and fast now. Elliot was terrified the storm would cause problems getting her to the hospital. He desperately longed for this whole ordeal to finally be over.

A short while later she started squirming on the stretcher.

"Hey! Lay still!" one of the guys carrying her instructed in a rough tone.

Elliot watched her flinch at his overly sharp reprimand.

"Do you have to be so harsh?" Elliot asked, irritated at their complete lack of sensitivity. He stepped closer to the head end of the stretcher, hoping that his proximity might be comforting.

"Elliot. I want to get up!" she begged. "Make them stop."

Elliot saw the pleading look in her eyes and couldn't ignore it.

"Can you stop for a minute?" he said to the lead carrier, raising his tone so that the guy would have to acknowledge him.

"We can't stop. Haven't you seen the weather?" he retorted scornfully. "We need to get back to the cabin fast!"

"It'll just be for a minute. Let me talk to her properly!"

"One minute! Then we're leaving." The guys didn't bother lowering the stretcher to the ground, letting Elliot know they weren't joking about only stopping for a few seconds.

He leaned in over her so that he could speak to her quietly enough not to be heard by everyone else.

"Liv, we need to keep moving, okay?"

"I'm hot, El. I need to get up. Please."

"Elliot, we need to go!" Dan said, coming over to see what the hold-up was.

"She says she feels too hot. Maybe we should remove one of the blankets or something?"

"No, it's a common phenomenon with hypothermia victims that they feel hot. Usually by the time it gets to that stage, it's over. Look, I need to be honest here. We don't have time for this. If we don't get her to a hospital soon, she could die. Do you understand? We need to go! The mollycoddling can wait!"

Reeling from the disparaging way Dan had spoken to him, Elliot nodded. Of course these guys knew what they were doing. For him it wasn't so simple however. They were only concerned with her physical well-being; in other words getting her to the hospital alive, whereas he was acutely aware of the horrifying psychological impact of everything she had been through and was struggling to even remotely contemplate how he could help her through this. He knew she needed gentleness and care. He also knew that she needed to feel in control again after having lost it so devastatingly and that being physically manhandled, her pleas ignored, was the exact opposite of that. He was not willing to sit back and let the rescue attempt potentially further traumatise her, yet if the alternative was that she died, what choice did he really have?

"Liv. We have to go okay," he told her. "We need to get you help."

"Please, El. I need to get off this stretcher."

"Liv, I'm sorry. I can't let you get off. Please trust me. This is for the best."

He watched in dismay as she furiously turned her head to the other side, refusing to make eye contact with him. He hated upsetting her, but she wasn't thinking straight right now and she needed help.

…

Finally they made it to the waiting vehicle and the team loaded both of them into the van, insisting that Elliot keep a thermal blanket round his own shoulders too. They refused to allow Olivia to get up from the stretcher, despite her protests, explaining to Elliot that she needed to be kept as still as possible. Elliot stared miserably at the straps holding her down, wishing there could be some other way to do this. He could only imagine what was going through her mind. She looked terrified and it was agonizing to see. She was still not speaking to him, although he did note she seemed a little more at ease when he stayed close by.

Despite the snowfall, they had no problems reaching the hospital and Elliot heaved a huge sigh of relief when they finally carried her into the emergency room. A team of doctors and nursing staff soon swarmed around her and from where he was watching he could tell she was feeling overwhelmed.

"Sir, we need to check you out too!" a nurse told him, coming up seemingly out of nowhere.

"I'm fine," he said.

"All the same, you ought to be checked out properly. Why don't you come through with me and we'll get you sorted out."

"I'm not leaving her!" he snapped, immediately regretting it. "Look, I'm sorry," he continued. Then he lowered his voice significantly. "You don't understan. She's been through a sexual assault. She needs to be handled with compassion."

"Oh, I didn't realise," the nurse said awkwardly. "OK, well given the circumstances, you can stay - if she wants you too, of course."

"Thank you," he said, walking closer to the gurney Olivia was now lying on. He realised she was searching for him. When her gaze finally met his, he could see the relief wash over her face. It was so devastating seeing her like this. Not that he minded being needed. It was just that this was Olivia Benson. She helped victims. She wasn't supposed to become one.

…

The warming process had been successful and Olivia's body temperature had steadily climbed from a low of 90.6 when she had arrived to a near-normal state now. To Elliot's immense relief the doctor believed she would make a full recovery. She had been lucky, he had explained. Once the body temperature drops under 90F it often results in permanent damage and it seemed she had been right on the edge of her hypothermia becoming so much more severe than it was. She had been diagnosed with some first degree frostbite in three of her toes, but the doctor believed that they would heal with no problems. It would be itchy and painful for a few days at least though, he had explained. She had been hooked up to an IV as she had been fairly dehydrated when she had come in but all in all things were looking good. Both of them were instructed to begin eating again slowly and to start with simple bland foods and work their way up. Olivia was to remain in the hospital for a minimum of forty-eight hours as the doctors needed to monitor her heart rate to make sure there were no problems and to keep an eye on her frostbite. Elliot had been released, not that he planned on actually leaving though.

Once her immediate physical injuries had been taken care of, including a through examination of the injuries she had suffered at Ray's hands, Elliot broached the subject he had been most dreading: the rape kit.

"Is there any point now?" she asked distantly when he mentioned it.

"You haven't bathed yet, so you know there's a chance there could be some incriminating evidence left."

"I meant since I have a witness," she said nonchalantly. He could feel his heart suddenly start to beat faster. She sounded so matter-of-fact about it and it sent warning bells off in his head, reminding him that it would be naïve to think the fact he had been there wouldn't have had a profound impact. He had no idea what to stay and remained staring at the floor awkwardly, knowing that with each second that passed he was digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole in which he had no idea how exactly he had fallen.

"I get you don't want to talk about it," she said, taking him by surprise.

"It's not that," he said quickly.

"You don't know what to say."

"Well yeah, that's true."

"Maybe you should leave."

"Liv, if you want to talk about it, we can. I just… didn't think you'd want to. Not yet anyway."

"No, I don't want to talk about it. Why would I?"

Elliot wasn't entirely sure where this conversation was going. Her thoughts seemed erratic. Once again he fell silent.

"This is exactly what I was afraid of."

"What?" He knew he was somehow upsetting her, yet wasn't entirely certain exactly how.

"That you'd shut down; that you would avoid the subject; that things would get awkward. I know how this will end up, you know."

"You do, do you?" he said, suddenly angry that she seemed to be assuming he wouldn't be there for her. "Well you're wrong Olivia. I'm not going anywhere."

She didn't reply. He knew she was close to tears.

"I meant what I said back there you know," he said.

"What was that?" she said with a coy smile, frustratingly playing dumb.

"That I love you Olivia!" he snapped. "Can't you see that? Can't you take this seriously and listen to what I'm telling you."

He hadn't meant to snap. Seeing the tears building in her eyes, he felt terrible straight away. So much for being gentle and understanding!

"Maybe I should go," he said.

"No," she replied in a small voice. "Please stay."

He nodded and sank wordlessly into the chair beside her bed.

"I'm sorry," she said reaching out with her hand. He grasped it immediately.

"I'm sorry too. I don't want to pressure you. I know the timing is abysmal."

"No, it's not," she said wistfully. She knew she needed him more than ever and that was what scared her.


	21. Chapter 21

21

He started awake, feeling the crick in his neck immediately. Grimacing he raised his hand up and began massaging his sore muscles. He glanced over at her, relieved to see she was still sleeping. Despite her exhaustion, she had been unable to settle and eventually he had convinced her to take the sedative that the night nurse had suggested might help. She had fought it, but eventually her tired body had succumbed. He had watched her sleeping, his mind in turmoil. Now that they were safe, his thoughts kept returning to that room and what Ray had done to her and the fact that he had been right there but unable to stop it. He knew that Ray's real motive hadn't been as much to hurt her as it was to 'punish' him. In some ways it almost made it seem worse: he had used her to get at him and even though deep down he knew it wasn't his fault, he still felt guilty.

He had spoken to Cragen on the phone a little earlier and he had confirmed that the hunt for Ray would leave no stone unturned, but so far it appeared he had disappeared into the wind. Reluctantly, Elliot had to acknowledge that while he was out there neither of them could rest easy. Ray knew where they lived, he knew intimate details about their lives and he had already proved that he was perfectly willing to take a step back from the limelight and wait until the timing was opportune, however long it took, before making his next move. The man was obsessed and Elliot was worried that unless they caught him, there was a good chance he might one day attempt to finish off what he had started. It was vital he was caught and he would do everything he could to ensure he was locked up for the rest of his life, with no further possibility of hurting Olivia or anyone else again.

She had agreed to the rape kit in the end. As she had pointed out, even though a huge part of her just wanted to forget about it and avoid facing it completely, how hypocritical would it be to not fight for justice after she had encouraged all those women to come forward during her years at the special victims unit? Elliot had told her that there was no standard she had to hold herself to, that it was her decision and that the important thing was that she was comfortable with it. He knew she had appreciated him saying that, but she had still been adamant that she wanted to go ahead. Elliot had stayed with her for much of it, only stepping outside during the more intimate parts of the exam.

Once it was finally over, she had lain back on her bed thoroughly drained, not saying a word, obviously overwhelmed by everything she had gone through. He had reached for her hand and held it for a while and watched her sadly as she had cried silent tears of a pain that he desperately wished he could take away. He had no idea what to do. Usually the time he spent with a rape victim was geared towards catching the bastard responsible or prepping the victim for court. Olivia had always been so much better at comforting them than he had. This was so very different; not least because he was an integral part of her trauma. She not only had the rape to deal with, but also the humiliation of it having been carried out in front of him. He was seriously questioning whether this was something they could actually get over.

"El," he heard her say and he started. How long had she been awake? He had been completely lost in his thoughts.

"Hey," he said quietly. The first wisps of light were poking through the curtains, telling him that the new day was not far off.

"You're still here," she said groggily wiping her eyes.

"Of course. Are you alright?" He could tell she was subdued.

"Just a nightmare," she said despondently.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Did you get any sleep at all?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"A little."

"It wasn't so bad," she said, after a short pause.

"Tell me," he encouraged her.

"He was raping me and you were there, but you just watched."

"Liv," he said, heavyhearted. "How is that not bad? It sounds horrible."

"Well it was just a dream. I know you would have helped me if you had been able to."

"I'm so sorry I couldn't stop it. I really am."

"It's not your fault."

"It's all my fault. He only came after you to get at me. I should have predicted something like this. I should have…"

"Elliot. Stop, please. There's no point beating yourself up about this. I don't blame you. It's not your fault. I was an idiot. I mean why didn't I question it when I thought you had suggested meeting at that corner? It didn't make any sense, yet I still went along. I should have called you, confirmed it or something?"

"You didn't know."

"It's no one's fault. It's easy in retrospect to say we should have done this or that."

"I just keep seeing it though. I tried so hard to get free. I really did."

"I know," she said. She could see the tears in his eyes too.

"Hold me," she whispered nervously, shifting over slightly and indicating the space she had made for him on her bed.

He stood from his chair and clambered onto the bed beside her, then tentatively wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him.

"We'll get through this, won't we?" she said.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He held her tightly, wishing he could turn back time and somehow change everything, hating that he couldn't.

They held each other like that, talking quietly, until the nurse came in to do her morning rounds.

…

The following day, much to her relief, Olivia was released from the hospital. Elliot had invited her back to his place, but as she had pointed out Ray knew where both of them lived, so it wouldn't be any safer there, perhaps even less so, since at least her place had a little more security than his did. They had already had the locks to her apartment changed, the place swept thoroughly for bugs and Elliot had been on to her landlord about the long-overdue overhaul of the foyer CCTV system. He had promised it would be upgraded within a couple of weeks.

As they passed through the foyer, Olivia checked her mail box, grabbing the handful of letters unenthusiastically, knowing that the majority of them were bills. Once inside her apartment, she quickly flicked through them, dismissing all but one. Unlike the other letters, it had a coloured envelope, and the address was hand printed.

"I wonder what this is?" she mused out loud.

"Only one way to find out," Elliot said.

She ripped it carefully and withdrew a card. The picture was of a teddy bear holding a bright red heart. She opened it curiously. There was only one line – again handwritten – but as soon as she read it, it struck fear into her heart. She gasped, handing it straight to Elliot.

"Always watching!" Elliot read out loud. He immediately placed the card back down on the table and reached for his phone, dialling Cragen's number directly. He placed his other hand on Olivia's arm supportively, feeling her shaking beneath his grasp.

As he made the call, he led Olivia over to the sofa, guiding her down gently. He had never seen her look quite this shaken. It didn't take him long to explain to Cragen what was going on and ask him to send someone over to pick up the letter for analysis.

"It's going to be okay, Liv," he said once he'd finished the call, trying to sound more confident and calm than he actually felt. "He's just trying to rattle you. They swept your place for bugs. I'll get them to put a detail outside just to be on the safe side, but it's just scare tactics."

"Well they're working," she replied.

"We don't have to stay here," he said.

"Where are we supposed to go Elliot? This is my home."

"Let me get you some tea or something," he suggested.

"No! I don't want any fricking tea!" she snapped. "I want my life back! I don't want to be this woman sitting here scared out of her mind because of a fricking post card, damn it!"

"I know," he said sympathetically. "It's going to be okay, alright? They'll get him."

"What if they don't? What if he comes back?"

"They'll find him. The whole force is out looking for him. Anyway if he comes within a mile of you, it'll be the last mistake he'll ever make." She watched his fists clench as he spoke and she couldn't help but smile at his protective stance.

"When was the post mark?" she asked suddenly. Elliot stepped back towards the table and carefully checked the envelope.

"It's dated the day after you disappeared," he said.

"So he obviously wasn't planning to kill us then?" she wondered out loud. "I mean if he wanted me to get this afterwards?"

"It would seem so. Who knows what was going through his head though?"

_Later that day_

"Who is it?" Elliot asked.

"It's me, Cragen," his Captain replied. Elliot buzzed him in and waited for him to arrive.

"Something must be up, if he's come here in person," Olivia observed nervously.

"Maybe he just wants to check in on you?" Elliot suggested. "He still cares about you, you know."

A minute later they heard the sound of footsteps out in the corridor and Elliot opened the door.

"How are you holding up Olivia?" Cragen asked as soon as he had taken a seat on the armchair offered to him.

"Not bad," she replied.

"Look, we had the results back from the prints on the inside of the card. Unfortunately, besides yours and Elliot's, the only other print was indeterminable."

"What do you mean? You couldn't run it?"

"No, just the owner isn't in the system."

"What?" Olivia said confused. "It wasn't Ray?"

"Maybe he got someone else to send it for him?" Elliot said quickly.

"It's very possible," Cragen agreed.

"Look, I've put a car outside. You're not in any immediate danger. We're making every effort to track down Ray Schenkel. Fin and Munch are interviewing a guy from the hostel he was living in. I'll let you know the second we get anything, okay."

"Thanks, Captain," Elliot said, watching Olivia nervously. She seemed to have withdrawn into herself. He suspected she wasn't hearing a word Cragen was saying.

...

Once his visit was over, he saw his Captain to the door and bolted it carefully behind him, then returned to the sofa where Olivia was still sitting unmoved.

"He must have someone helping him," she said decisively. "Maybe that person was the one who planted the bugs?"

"You're probably right," Elliot said. He sighed. He wished he had thought to get them to check her mail before they had come home. Not that it would have helped. he knew she would be furious if he ever tried to hide anything from her.

"They have to get him, El! I can't live like this," she said interrupting his thoughts.

"They will, I promise."


	22. Chapter 22

22

The doorbell rang and Elliot saw her visibly tense. He had noticed she had been hyper-alert ever since they had returned home from the hospital. He knew it was a very common reaction among rape victims to be hyper-vigilant after an attack but it was hard to see _her_ acting in this way. The things he had seen during his career had often made him almost hate his gender sometimes. The way some men used sex to control and humiliate women made him sick to the stomach. As he had said on many an occasion before; sex was supposed to be one of the most enjoyable aspects of life, not the worst. Sexual crimes were some of the worst crimes humanly possible in his opinion. Seeing his beautiful and capable ex-partner suffer the effects of the very evil she had worked to prevent saddened him immeasurably. Being unable to do anything to change what had happened to her was devastating.

He stood and made his way to the intercom to enquire who was down there.

"It's me, Lawrence," he heard her old boss say.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked her turning off the intercom briefly so that Lawrence wouldn't hear the discussion.

"You can buzz him up," she said with an impassive shrug.

A minute later Lawrence entered her apartment carrying a huge box of chocolates.

"You didn't have to do this," she exclaimed as she took them and realised they weren't exactly the cheapest brand available.

"Don't be silly," he replied. "I heard you had quite a time of it out there in those woods."

"You did?" she said, puzzled as to who could have told him the details.

"It was in the paper," he explained.

"The paper?" she said shocked and now visibly upset. "El?" She turned to him, her eyes beseeching him to tell her it was a mistake; that her personal tragedy hadn't become an entertainment spread in a crappy local tabloid.

"I had no idea," he said apologetically. "You know what the press is like though. They'll do anything for a story."

"What exactly was written about me?" she asked.

"Hey, Liv, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Lawrence said worriedly. I thought you would have known about it."

"Just tell me Lawrence. How much do you know about what happened to me?"

"Liv, don't do this to yourself," Elliot interrupted, worried about how hard she was going to take having the intimate details of her traumatic experience made public like this. It wasn't completely unrealistic to suspect that the facts had been exaggerated or even completely fabricated for the sake of the story either.

"Elliot, I want to know what was written about me! Do you really have a problem with that?"

"No, of course not," he said with a sigh and a slight glare at Lawrence, although it seemed to go unnoticed by the man who was transfixed on Olivia. He seemed genuinely remorseful for bringing up the subject at least, Elliot thought.

"It wasn't a long article," Lawrence said, obviously attempting to play it down.

"Just tell me," she snapped, making Elliot smile. Feisty Liv was the one he had grown to know and love over the years and it was a relief to know that all of this hadn't tempered that familiar side of her.

"Sure," Lawrence said awkwardly. "Well, it just said something along the lines of a female ex-sex crime fighter meeting a fate similar to one of her victims and then being chased through the wilderness by her armed attacker resulting in a life and death battle against hypothermia that she almost lost."

"You have to be joking!" Olivia groaned, devastated that her very real ordeal had been sensationalised by the paper, no doubt with the sole attempt to boost sales.

"No one reads the paper," Elliot said dismissively, in an attempt to console her.

"_He_ did," she pointed out indignantly.

"They wouldn't have printed your name," Elliot reassured her.

"No they didn't," Lawrence assured her. "I just put two and two together and worked out it was you. Look, Liv. I just came to say I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to upset you. I'll go, okay."

"I'm sorry Lawrence," she said. "I guess I'm just not really up to visitors yet."

"It's fine. I understand. Enjoy the chocolates, okay?"

"Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

Elliot saw him to the door and locked it behind him.

"Everyone who knows me knows, don't they?" she said miserably. "It's not going to take Sherlock to work out the article is referring to me."

"People care about you Olivia," Elliot said. He understood that she didn't want everyone knowing, but at the same time he knew no one would think any less of her for what had happened. He had always felt strongly how unfair it was that the victim of a sexual assault was left feeling ashamed and humiliated, when none of it was their fault. The shame lay with the perpetrator, never the victim.

"Can we change the subject?" she said dejectedly.

"Sure," he agreed.

"Although I want you to find out who leaked the story to the press," she added.

"I will," he promised.

"I think I'm going to go and take a shower." She stood and headed towards the bathroom.

Once he heard the click of the bathroom door closing, he called Captain Cragen to ask how on earth it was that the local paper had managed to get hold of the story. It turned out the press had gleaned information from a couple of guys on the rescue team and one of the ER nurses. It was frustrating but there wasn't much they could do about it now, unfortunately.

Olivia resurfaced from her shower about thirty minutes later, looking a little calmer, but Elliot could tell she had been crying for her eyes looked red.

"Are you OK?" he asked as she came in and perched on the sofa, running a brush methodically through her damp hair.

"I guess," she replied. There was a sad tone to her voice that almost broke his heart.

"Do you want a hug?" he asked. He had wanted to throw his arms around her the second she had come out of the bathroom, but it seemed so inappropriate to force himself on her like that. Not just because of what had happened but also because he still wasn't exactly sure where they were going in terms of a relationship. She had enough on her plate at the moment and he had no intention of putting any pressure on her to define whatever it was they had between them. For now he was happy to stay by her side and do whatever he could to help her through this.

He saw the tiny nod, so small he could have been forgiven for completely missing it, and he didn't hang around. He seated himself beside her, slipped his arm around her and pulled her to him, holding her firmly yet tenderly. He couldn't help but feel her breasts pushing against his chest and he felt the stirrings of a reaction that he tried to will away. He wondered if she could tell. He hoped not. He stroked her hair, enjoying the silky feel. It was still damp and the water was starting to seep through his shirt. He brought his face close to her head and kissed her hair gently. It seemed as though she leaned further in to him when he did, so he continued plying her with soft kisses, nuzzling in slightly as he did so.

She reached for his hand and he wrapped his around hers, running his fingers over hers and then gripping her hand more firmly while with the other he gently moved her head away from his chest, giving him access. He cautiously brought his lips to hers. He moved slowly. It was sensual and as he felt her responding he had to shift his position slightly to get comfortable due to the ever-increasing tightness in his pants. He wasn't sure if pressed up as close as she was, she could feel it or not, but she didn't seem to react negatively if she did. He moved his lips against hers, exploring her mouth tentatively. He continued to run his hand through her hair. His aim wasn't to get carried away or to act any further on his feelings right now, but simply a desire to show her the tenderness that he felt towards her and that he believed she deserved. Ray had violated her in the worst possible way and he wanted her to experience the exact opposite of that, in the hope that he could make her feel good again.

He pulled his lips away from hers, resting his cheek against hers gently. He could feel the moisture which had freshly accumulated there. Alarmed he pulled back and looked at her in concern.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you too far."

"It's OK," she replied, then added shyly, "I like it when you kiss me."

He smiled and nuzzled back into her neck, positioning his mouth right beside her ear.

"Then I'll kiss you whenever you want, just say the word," he whispered.

Now she pulled away and raised her hand, guiding his face around so that she could access his lips. Once again their mouths met and he closed his eyes as he felt her eagerness. She began running her hands over his chest as they kissed and he moaned softly in pleasure.

He pulled back. "Liv, I…"

"Shh…" she said, placing a finger to his mouth and then replacing it once again with another kiss.

They remained curled up together on the sofa like that, kissing intermittently, taking comfort from each other's presence. Elliot found he was enjoying the intimacy more than he had expected. It was nice to take things slow and know that they had all the time in the world to take things further. He figured she needed time and he was more than happy to give her that. The fact she was even kissing him like this after everything she had been through touched him greatly. She was glad she trusted him and his intentions and felt safe enough to do that with him. In this position, with his arms around her, he knew there was no place he would rather be right now.

Inevitably the moment was interrupted: in this case by Elliot's phone. He considered ignoring it, but Olivia had already sat up at the sound of its ring, freeing him to reach for it on the coffee table. He glanced at the screen quickly and determined that it was Captain Cragen.

"Hey Captain," he said. "What's up?"

Olivia could hear Elliot's side of the conversation but it was difficult to really decipher what was going on. She gathered by Elliot's pleased reaction that it was something good.

"What is it?" she asked once he had finished the call.

"They've got him!" Elliot announced delightedly. "They just picked him up. They're transporting him back to the city later on today. It's over."

"Really?" she said hopefully, not quite daring to believe that it could actually be true that Ray Schenkel was now safely in custody.

"Yes, it's true Liv. He was arrested a couple of hours ago."

She suddenly flung her arms around his neck, surprising him, although he quickly recovered and hugged her back with equal fervor.

"I can't believe they got him so quickly!" she said. "How did they find him?"

"An off-duty police officer recognised him at a roadside café and called it in."

"Wow," she breathed. "It's such a relief!"

"I know," Elliot said smiling. "Everything's going to be OK, Liv. You believe that, don't you?"

She nodded.


	23. Chapter 23

23

They were walking arm in arm, enjoying the sunshine. Despite the clear blue skies, it was still quite chilly, but they were wrapped up warmly and the crisp air was invigorating. They both had slightly flushed cheeks from the chilly air and Olivia was glad she had her woollen hat to cover her ears.

"Are you sure you're not too cold?" Elliot asked her. They were walking at a very leisurely pace for she was still sore from the bruises and the frostbite in her toes, although her doctor had determined that she was healing nicely all things considered. Thanks to their experience in the special victims unit, they were both strongly aware of the fact that physical wounds often tended to be resolved much more quickly than psychological ones.

No, I'm fine," she told him.

They continued walking. Elliot couldn't help but notice how jumpy she was. Every time someone approached from the opposite direction he could see and feel her tense. He had already asked her if she was sure she was ready to be taking walks out in the open, but she had insisted she wanted to start getting back to normal as soon as possible, claiming that the fresh air would do her good too. Her anxiety seemed to be escalating though. She was glancing around more frequently and he could tell she was no longer concentrating on his chit-chat.

"Liv," he said, stopping and turning to face her head on. "What's wrong?"

He saw the indecision on her face and knew she was struggling to decide whether to tell him or not what was going on in her head.

"Tell me," he pleaded softly. Her gaze met his and he smiled encouragingly.

"You're going to think I'm crazy," she said.

"Never," he replied. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"It's just… I feel like someone's watching." She sighed. She knew she probably sounded paranoid.

Elliot immediately glanced around the immediate area. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. He knew she was suffering a trauma, but he also trusted her instincts. There was always the chance she was right and he wasn't going to run the risk of just dismissing her fears and it turning out that she had been right.

"Let's keep moving for a little while and then back track," he suggested.

"I don't know, El," she replied nervously.

He recognized the extent of her fear from her tone. As much as he wanted to check out the area and make sure there rally wasn't anyone untoward hanging around, he decided it was more important that he get her somewhere she felt safe as quickly as possible.

"Let's go," he said decisively.

"It's probably nothing."

Seeing the miserable expression on her face, he wrapped his arm around her more tightly.

"It's not a problem. Come on. Let's go home."

"Home?" she said with a slight smile, even a slight hint of a sparkle in her eye.

"Yes, home," he replied decisively.

…

She had gone to lie down for a nap. She hadn't been sleeping very well and was exhausted and over the last week a midday nap had become a bit of a routine. He had spent some time reading the news online and was now checking through his emails. He rolled his eyes as he realised Munch had forwarded him yet another chain mail full of pictures of cats with funny one-liners. Munch was a sucker for such emails. Most of them he just deleted, but this one was vaguely funny and he had nothing better to do, so he quickly scrolled through.

He was interrupted by a sound coming from the bedroom. He got to his feet and headed straight there, quickly recognising that Olivia was in the throes of another nightmare. She was calling out and although most of it was unintelligible, he could make out some words. _Stop. Please. No._

His heart sank. Nightmares were an inevitable result of a trauma such as the one she had suffered, he knew that, but all the same he hated that she had to go through the experience.

He stepped over to the bed and seated himself beside her, placing an arm on her shoulder and gently shaking her awake.

She started, her eyes wide and then realising it had been a dream promptly burst into tears. As always he took her into his arms, gently making circles on her back with his hand as she fought to control her emotions.

It had been like this every day since she had left the hospital.

Long after her tears had ceased, he continue to hold her. Eventually she spoke.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. I'm here for you. You know that." He hated that she felt like she was being such a burden on him. He wished she would recognise he was here because he loved her and nothing he did for her would make him resent her.

"What if they never stop?"

"They will. You just need time, sweetheart. It's barely been a week."

"I'm so tired."

"I know. I know," he soothed.

She closed her eyes as she rested her head against him.

"Maybe you should think about asking the doctor for something to help you sleep?" Elliot suggested.

"I don't want to take drugs."

"I know, but it might help you and it would only be temporary. You could get some proper rest and it might help."

"Maybe you're right."

"We could go this afternoon."

"OK," she agreed.

…

They were sitting in the waiting area. Unfortunately it was extremely busy and the receptionist had said it would be at least an hour, maybe longer, before they could see the doctor. He was sifting through one of the standard magazines whereas she was just sitting staring ahead vacantly. Occasionally he would say something to her and she would respond in a detached tone which clearly indicated that she wasn't in a talking mood. Reluctantly he ceased trying to engage her in conversation and instead pretended to be reading his magazine, whereas in reality he kept a concerned eye on her.

When she tensed, he was immediately aware of it and looked up. She was staring across at the other side of the room at another patient who had just sat down.

"El," she whispered. "That man over there – I'm sure he was in the park earlier. I think he's following me."

Elliot glanced at him and was certain he had never seen him before.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't remember him."

"I'm sure," she replied sharply, obviously irritated that he was questioning her.

Elliot stood.

"What are you doing?" she whispered in alarm.

"I'm going to talk to him," Elliot replied, heading straight over there.

"Excuse me," he said. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but were you in Central Park this morning? It's just I'm sure I recognise you."

"Nah man. I've been at work all morning."

"Where do you work, if you don't mind me asking?" Elliot asked.

The guy stared at Elliot clearly puzzled about the odd conversation and for a moment Elliot feared he would close off and not reply. Not that he could blame him. It was a bit weird to be approached by a random guy while waiting in a doctor's surgery and asked such personal questions.

"I'm a fire fighter," the man replied finally with a shrug, much to Elliot's relief.

"NYPD," Elliot said, feeling it only fair to offer the same information about his own profession. He wasn't getting a bad vibe from this man anyway. He seemed genuine.

"Is something wrong?" the man asked, now concerned.

"Oh no, it's nothing. I'm off duty actually. I'm sorry. I thought I recognized you, that's all and was thinking what a funny coincidence it was, but I'm obviously mistaken."

"No problem."

Elliot returned to Olivia and whispered close to her ear, telling her about the exchange.

"Maybe I was wrong," she admitted. "I'm sorry. My head is all over the place."

"That's totally understandable," Elliot replied sympathetically.

…

With her prescription for some sleeping pills and a mild anti-depressant successfully collected, they headed back to Elliot's car and got in. The doctor had suggested she also consider the latter medication and she had reluctantly agreed, not entirely certain whether she would actually go ahead and take it or not. It wasn't that she was against medication, just that it seemed like such a huge step to admit that things were so bad that she needed outside help. She still kind of liked to think she could eventually work through this on her own. Maybe she was being naïve though.

Before she could buckle the seatbelt, Elliot turned to her.

"It's going to get better, Liv," he said confidently.

"I hope so," she said, much more uncertain.

"Come here," he said, opening his arms. She leaned into his hug willingly. His sensitivity and patience touched her deeply and she wondered truly how she would have coped if he wasn't around. She wished she weren't so damaged. Surely he deserved better than having to deal with her as she fell apart. She couldn't help but feel guilty about her imagined burden on him.

"Thanks, El," she said, pulling back, determined to try and show some ability to function without needing to be in his arms twenty-four seven.

"Shall we go home?" he asked.

She nodded.

As they drove, she kept her gaze on the wing mirror beside her. The car behind seemed to be following their exact route. They were on a main road though. There was probably any number of people heading in the same direction as they were. She closed her eyes in frustration. She was going to drive herself crazy, she knew that, but it was as though she couldn't help herself. It felt like there was a threat around every corner. Maybe she should try those meds, just for a little while to get over the worst.

She opened her eyes and glanced at Elliot. He had his eyes focused on the road ahead. She reached over and placed her hand just above his knee. It was like she had an inexplicable need to be touching him, as though it would confirm that he was really here. She had been alone for so long, it was hard to get her head around the fact that someone was going to stay in her life. She knew she was terrified of losing him. The more support he offered her, the more invested she got. If he walked away now it would kill her.

She felt his right hand clasp over the one she had placed on his knee, squeezing her gently. She relaxed; his response dispelling her fears, at least temporarily.

She returned her gaze to the mirror, dismayed to see the same car was still behind them.

She kept a nervous eye on it until they turned into her street, when it finally disappeared on down the road and out of sight.


	24. Chapter 24

24

"Remember you have your dentist appointment at ten fifteen!" Olivia said to Elliot, who was shaving in the bathroom.

"I completely forgot about that!" he said.

Olivia smiled. She had been reminding him all week, yet he still acted like she was springing it on him completely out of the blue.

"I'll call and cancel," he said, switching off the razor and giving her his full attention. Over the last few days she had barely left his side and had been reluctant for either of them to leave the apartment. He guessed it was just a phase, hardly to be unexpected given everything she had been through. He hoped all she needed was a bit of time. He had tried to convince her to talk to someone but she had said she wasn't ready yet. He hadn't persisted, but he was starting to worry about her. She was having frequent flashbacks and nightmares and he wasn't convinced that waiting it out was going to do much good even though she insisted that time would help her.

"You don't have to do that," she said. "Actually, Lawrence said he might come over this morning."

"Oh," Elliot said, surprised. "Well I suppose if he was here to keep you company, I could pop along. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'll be fine. You go."

Elliot switched the razor back on. Leaving her wasn't ideal. He still wasn't a huge fan of Lawrence. There was just something about him that he couldn't quite put his finger on that rubbed him the wrong way. It would be nice to get out of the house though. He hated being cooped up indoors. Normally she did too though, which just added to his worry. Maybe seeing Lawrence would be good for her? He was probably being a bit harsh on the guy anyway. He had to admit it always irked him to see her getting on well with other men. He couldn't help feeling possessive. He always had done, even before they were an 'item' so to speak.

Once he had finished he brushed his teeth and then returned to the bedroom to get dressed. He still had an hour before he would have to leave so he wandered into the living area to see what she was doing. He was surprised to see her looking through some old photo albums.

"Hey," he said, sinking to the floor beside her and glancing at the picture she was staring at. "Who's that?"

"An old friend," she said soberly. "I haven't seen or heard from her in years though. I have no idea where she might be, if she married or has kids, anything."

"You should try looking online. Maybe you would find something?"

"Yeah maybe."

"So, did you call Lawrence? Is he coming?"

"Yeah, he said he'd come round in half an hour, just before you leave."

"Great. I was thinking, maybe we should venture out this afternoon? It's not good to be cooped up indoors all the time."

"Maybe," she said unenthusiastically.

Elliot sighed. At least it wasn't an outright 'no' anyway. She had gone back to flicking through the album and he used the opportunity to glance at her surreptitiously. It struck him how beautiful she was and the fact she barely seemed aware of it was all the more endearing. He liked the way she wore her hair lately. He wondered if he had told her that. It was awkward though. He didn't want the fact that he was thinking about her physically to make her feel under any pressure at all. Even though he eagerly awaited the day they could be fully intimate, he knew that right now she needed their relationship to progress on her terms, not his. He wondered if things ever would get back to a more even playing field or whether her ordeal at the hands of Ray would forever taint them. He desperately hoped that wouldn't be the case. Either way, he knew he wanted to be with her.

"Liv," he said, causing her to turn her head in his direction.

"What is it?" she asked innocently. He wondered if she truly had any idea how much he cared for her and how much he wanted to be able to help her work through this.

"I love you," he blurted out. He watched her eyes widen with surprise then the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile.

"I wasn't expecting you to say that," she laughed. "I thought you were going to nag me about therapy again."

He could feel his cheeks flush slightly, for that had actually been on the tip of his tongue too.

"I just want you to be okay, Liv. I want you to be happy."

"Thanks, El," she said. "I love you too."

He couldn't hold back any more. He wrapped his arms around her and she returned the gesture. Their lips met briefly and afterwards he rested his cheek against hers.

"We'll get through this," he said confidently.

She nodded, her eyes now swimming with tears.

…

Lawrence arrived on time, as promised. Elliot was glad she seemed a little perkier. He wasn't sure if it was their brief intimate moment earlier or a result of the prospect of seeing Lawrence again, but either way it made him feel happier about leaving her for a couple of hours to attend his appointment. It was a ten minute subway ride. If he had more time, he would have walked, but he decided that it would be best to take as little time as possible. He hoped she would enjoy her catch-up with Lawrence and that the flashbacks would stay far away.

He had been sitting in the dentist's office waiting area thumbing through magazines for about fifteen minutes when his phone rang.

"Hey, Captain," he answered, getting to his feet and stepping outside to continue the call without disturbing the other patients. "What's up?"

"Elliot, we've made a disturbing discovery. Where are you? Are you with Olivia?"

"No, I'm actually at the dentist."

"Is Olivia with you?"

"No, she's at home, but she's okay. She's with a friend."

"Oh good. Look, Elliot, I don't want to worry you unnecessarily, but Ray Schenkel has been talking and has revealed some disturbing information."

"What exactly?" asked Elliot bewildered and still not really picking up on the extent of the seriousness to Cragen's tone.

"He's been talking in great detail about how he planned and executed Olivia's kidnapping and there are some things that just don't add up. He knows he's finished so he's just admitted everything; that he followed her to that corner and abducted her, but, and this is the worrying part, he insists it was opportunistic. He claims he had been following her in order to learn her routine, basically scouting to plan her abduction at a later time and then when she ended up on that street corner alone, he just saw his opportunity and took it. He claims he knows nothing about any listening devices and nothing about any chocolates with a note changing the meeting place."

"He must be lying?" Elliot said, trying to wrap his head around what the alternative might mean.

"It's possible, but I don't know why he would at this point. He's going down for life now whatever, so it doesn't make any difference to him."

"What are you saying, Captain? You think there is someone else out there who planted those devices; someone else who planned to get her to that corner alone?"

"It's looking like a strong possibility. Besides, Ray is small time. TARU have looked at those devices and they're quite complex. It appears the user would have to have some considerable IT equipment and knowledge to handle them. It just seems a bit outside of Ray's capabilities or previous MO for that matter.

"Maybe he was working with someone? He's worked with others before."

"He insists he would never work with anyone else again after what happened with you."

"Then who on earth could it possibly be? Do you think it's Harris?"

"Fin and Munch are on their way down there now to pull him in for an interview."

"Captain, I'm on my way. I want to look at those tapes again. Maybe whoever it is turned up at that corner too."

Elliot ended the call and then briefly returned inside to inform the receptionist that he would be cancelling that day's appointment. Then he left, heading for the precinct as fast as he could, wondering how on earth this whole thing could possibly have got this complicated. The thought of two separate people wanting to harm Olivia was staggering. He understood they both had their fair share of enemies as a result of the work they did, but this was almost inconceivable. She had been a good cop and she was a good person. She didn't deserve this.

…

It was the sixth time he had looked at the footage and still nothing came to light. It was beyond frustrating. They were nowhere closer to discovering who this mystery second person was. Harris had apparently denied all knowledge of anything untoward and had raised no red flags. To be honest Elliot had doubted he had anything to do with it after talking with him when Olivia had gone missing. He was keeping his head down, working hard, apparently determined to stay out of prison for good. It made sense, for he had no doubt been treated harshly inside. Again, he didn't really come across as being all that IT savvy either. It just didn't seem his style.

He glanced at his watch. Nearly three hours had passed since he had left her apartment and he knew he would have to think about returning very soon now. Lawrence had said he had plenty of time to spare, but even so he didn't like to leave her too long. Before he headed off though, he decided he would check out the case file one more time to see if that would shed any light on things.

As he thumbed through the pages, his mind raced, wondering why he had never considered before that there might be another perp involved. The more he thought about it now, the more sense it made. At the time even he had been surprised when he had found out Ray had set up such complex technical surveillance, but he had just assumed it was a skill he had acquired at some point, without really thinking too deeply about it. How could he have been so blind?

He stared at the photograph of the note that had told her to meet him at the corner. It was printed in simple wording, so there was no real clue there. Then his eyes fell on the photograph of the chocolates the note had arrived with and lingered. It niggled at him. He had seen them before somewhere. They were distinctive; expensive-looking, hand-made, with an exclusive label. Then it suddenly hit him as he realised exactly where he had seen them before. His blood ran cold and for as second he thought his heart might actually have stopped beating. He quickly gathered himself together and rushed over to Cragen's office, barely even pausing after his brief knock before entering.

"It's Lawrence!" he exclaimed. "Captain, we need to get a unit over to Olivia's apartment _immediately_. She's alone with him! I'm heading there now!"

He frantically dialled her number as he ran, but it just kept ringing and ringing. He kept trying again and again, both her cell and her landline as he raced down the stairs. This was awful. He had left her there alone with him and goodness knows what he had done or was doing to her right now. She had already suffered so much. If anything else happened, it would be devastating. It was too horrifying to even think about. Once again he had fucked up big time, for he just hadn't seen it. Yet he had _known_ there was something off with Lawrence. He could kick himself. What had he been thinking leaving her with him? If Lawrence had laid a single finger on her, it would be his fault. She had trusted him and he had let her down… again.

Desperately, he rushed as fast as he could to her apartment. Each step felt like a mile, each minute a lifetime.

**A/N So I wonder how many "I knew it!" reviews I'll get... ha ha. **


	25. Chapter 25

25

He fumbled with the key to the main entrance of her apartment building, his haste causing him to drop the damn things.

"Shit," he exclaimed, immediately stooping down to retrieve them. Was the universe against him or something?

"Hey!" he heard Fin's voice calling to him. Impatiently, he forced the key into the lock and turned it roughly. The door swung open and both men hurriedly stepped inside.

"That was quick!" Elliot said.

"Was in the area," Fin replied.

There was no further conversation between them as they raced up the stairs, not wanting to waste time waiting for the elevator. It was old and slow and their feet would carry them up significantly more quickly. As they ran, leaping up two to three stairs at a time, both were trying to mentally prepare themselves for whatever scene they would find in her apartment. Elliot hoped that this would all amount to nothing. If Lawrence had no idea they were on to him, maybe he hadn't made his move yet? Maybe he had no intention in ever making a move? Maybe surveillance was as far as he intended it to go?

He paused for a second outside her door, straining to hear any sound that would inform him that everything was okay in there, but he couldn't hear a thing. With his heart racing at a speed he thought might actually cause it to explode from his chest in a scene akin to an _Alien_ film, he inserted the key into the lock. His hand instinctively went to his firearm, as he pushed the door open and stepped inside, his senses on hyper-alert. His eyes quickly swept the room. Everything was as it should be. No furniture was out of place, there was no sign of any struggle. No blood to suggest anything untoward had occurred. He noticed her phone was on the coffee table and a quick check confirmed that her handbag was where she usually left it too. It was worrying, for he imagined that there was no way Olivia would have gone anywhere legitimately without her phone and wallet.

"Let's check the bedroom!" Fin yelled from the other side of the room.

He realized he had been so utterly stunned at her apparent disappearance that he hadn't been thinking straight. What if he had her in there right now? Or what if he had already gotten what he wanted and had left her there…?

He couldn't move. Images of previous victims flooded his head. Some naked, some not, some tied, some not, some on their front, some on their back. Some stabbed, some shot, some bludgeoned. Bloody images of terrorized victims, the fear on their faces, their final expressions forever etched into his memory, bombarded his mind. He had never been afraid to push open the door and step inside and face whatever cruel aftermath was left behind at a crime scene, but this was different. This wasn't a random victim. This was her.

"Hey man," Fin rested his hand on his shoulder briefly. The look in his eyes told Elliot he had seen his hesitation and understood his trepidation about what may await them in that bedroom.

"I'll go," Fin said.

"No!" Elliot said, pulling himself together. He had to do it. If, heaven forbid, she was lying there, exposed, he needed to go in first and do what he could to protect her dignity. This was Fin, her colleague and her friend. Elliot knew that the last thing she would want would be for the people she knew and cared about in her life to find her in such a situation. It was bad enough that Elliot would see, but he knew she trusted him implicitly.

"Are you sure?" Fin insisted, glancing uneasily at his colleague. He had never seen him quite like this before. It was disconcerting. He had to admit he was feeling pretty shaken up himself. He cared a great deal for Olivia.

Elliot nodded firmly. He stepped purposefully towards the bedroom. Putting off the inevitable was going to help no one. He had to go in there and so he may as well get it over with. He placed his hand on the door handle, took a deep breath and then pushed it as far as he needed to in order to slip inside. Then he closed it behind him. The curtains were drawn, so he switched on the light and forced his gaze to the bed. It took him a second to fully register the fact that she wasn't there. He quickly searched the room, checking the small space between the wall and the bed, even inside the closet. Nothing.

"Clear!" he yelled to Fin, exiting the room almost simultaneously.

"Bathroom's clear!" Fin replied.

They exchanged a worried glance. The fact that they hadn't found her lifeless or bleeding was a huge relief, but it didn't detract much from the fact that she was now officially missing. despite the fact that she had left her apartment without her phone and wallet, there was also the fact that Elliot knew there was no way she would have just upped and left without letting him know, leaving a note, or something. She knew he would be back and would be worried out of his mind if she wasn't what they knew about Lawrence, they had to assume that the most likely scenario was that he had her and that his intentions probably weren't good.

Fin radioed an update on the situation back to Cragen and Elliot staggered towards the kitchen, floored at the turn of events. He had already started beating himself up about it. He told himself he never should have left her. He should have seen it coming with Lawrence. If anything further happened to her he would never forgive himself. She had already been through a horrific trauma. How much could one person really take? His frustration at his own lack of ability to protect her was immeasurable. He had promised himself that he would never let anything happen to her again and just weeks later, he had already spectacularly failed her. The helplessness was unbearable. He slammed his fist down as hard as he could on her table, yelling in anger and frustration and in pure emotional pain as he did so. Ignoring the blood now trickling from his knuckles, he raised his fist and slammed it down once more.

He felt Fin pulling him back, holding his arm and preventing a third strike.

"What the fuck are you doing?"" Fin told him angrily. "Ya think a broken hand is going to help her? I don't think she'll be too impressed if you smash up her furniture either!"

"I should never have left her," Elliot shouted miserably, struggling against Fin's grip.

"We need to check out his place," Fin said, refusing to loosen his hold.

Elliot stopped struggling as he realized Fin was suggesting a positive course of action that might actually help Olivia. Feeling him notably relax, Fin cautiously released his hold, watching Elliot for any sign that he would renew his crazed attempt to shatter all the bones in his hand.

"Here," Fin said, reaching for and handing him a towel that had been flung over the back of a chair.

Elliot took it and wrapped it around his bleeding knuckles.

"You gonna be OK with this?" Fin asked, worried that should Lawrence have actually made the mistake of returning to his apartment, Elliot would completely lose control. Heaven forbid they caught him doing anything to Olivia. He wasn't one hundred percent certain he wouldn't attempt to end the guy himself.

"Yeah," Elliot replied, his voice almost a growl. He knew exactly what Fin was implying. He had to acknowledge that his colleague was right to be worried. He was ready to rip the man's limbs from his body if he had even laid a single finger on her.

"Good, coz you know the Captain will take you off the case if you don't keep it cool."

"I'll be good. Come on," Elliot replied. "Let's go."

…

They rushed over to Lawrence's apartment. Elliot rang the doorbell and rapped on the door impatiently. There was no response and he immediately positioned himself to give the door a good kick.

"Wait a minute. We need the warrant!" Fin reminded him. His phone was pressed to his ear and he was awaiting the go-ahead from the Captain, which was expected within minutes.

"You think I give a shit about the warrant?" Elliot barked back.

"No, I don't, but she will when the case falls apart and her attacker runs free just because you couldn't wait five minutes."

Glaring, Elliot stepped back wondering how Fin could be so irritatingly level-headed when that creep had his hands on Olivia, doing goodness knows what to her. Five minutes might be a life time to her: the difference between an incident she could put behind her and the kind of trauma from which she might never ever recover. The thought of her going through another rape devastated him. He paced up and down a few times, fighting the very real tears that blurred his vision, finally settling into a position leaning against the wall, facing away from Fin so that he could blink them away without being noticed. He tried to concentrate on taking deep breaths to calm himself down a little. He knew he was teetering dangerously close to the edge.

"Thanks Captain," was all he needed to hear from Fin's end and he immediately stood to attention, positioning himself perfectly to give the door the hefty whack he thought it needed to throw it off his hinges. He swore as his effort was unsuccessful.

"Here, let me," Fin said. Elliot noticed he had hold of a fire extinguisher, intending to use it as a battering ram. He must have picked it up from down the corridor somewhere. Feeling a bit of an idiot, he stepped aside awkwardly.

With Fin's method significantly more successful, they quickly determined there was no one inside the apartment. They began to search more thoroughly for any clues that could give them insight into where he might possibly have taken her. They started with the obvious places; the desk, the bookshelves, the pile of papers littering the dining table, finding nothing at all useful. Heading towards the bedroom down the dark musty-smelling corridor, Elliot spied a door, which looked like it might lead to a closet or something. He tried it and found it was locked. His suspicion immediately raised, he retrieved the fire extinguisher from where Fin had placed it just inside the obliterated front door and used it to break open the second door.

He fumbled for a light and as soon as he did, he gasped. The room was small, stripped bare with no furniture whatsoever, but almost every single spare space on the wall was covered with photographs of Olivia. It must have amounted to hundreds and hundreds of them. As he looked more closely he realized from the time stamps that this guy had been stalking her intensively for months. It was flabbergasting and made him feel sick to his stomach. Aghast he called out to Fin, urging him to join him. He realized back-up must have arrived for he could hear voices in the apartment. He assumed the crime scenes unit were getting underway with their investigation.

As soon as Fin stepped inside the room, he reacted in much the same way Elliot had, gasping in shock and then just standing staring open-mouthed at the astounding array of photos. They had dealt with their fair share of stalkers, but this went way beyond anything either had ever seen before. It was absolutely mind-blowing. In that moment Elliot realized just how much danger Olivia really was in. Surely a guy who was this obsessed would never just let her go.

"We've got to work out where he took her, Fin," he said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. He felt numb. This was bad, really bad. He knew that her chances of getting out of this alive had drastically fallen and it was horrifying.

"They're going through his finances back at the one-six," Fin said.

"I'm going to go back out there and help with the search," Elliot said weakly. The walls felt like they were closing in on him. The whole room and its contents made him feel sick to his stomach. In fact he felt like he was going to hyperventilate. He needed air - now.

Out in the corridor, he leaned forward, his hands on his knees, trying to gather himself enough to continue in the search. He had to pull himself together. Olivia needed him and he was damned if he was going to let her down again. Drawing every ounce of strength he possessed, he raised himself back up into a standing position and then headed back towards the living room.

* * *

**A/N Thanks so much to Jabyar for the suggestion. I have now edited and hope it has improved the chapter. S x**


	26. Chapter 26

26

He heard Fin calling his name and looked towards the direction of his voice. He had stepped outside briefly to get some air. The reality of hunting through Lawrence's apartment, specifically the reason for it, was making him feel sick to the stomach. He couldn't get the image of all those photographs of her out of his head. It was unbelievable. How on earth he had found the time with running the bar, he had no idea. It was all the more disturbing to think that he had obviously spent much of his daytime observing her and then had been able to keep a close watch on her during the evenings too during her shifts. Once again he berated himself for not having listened more carefully to his own gut instincts about the guy.

"What is it?" he asked his colleague, trying to focus his attention more fully on whatever it was he had to say, rather than on the possible hell she might be enduring right at this very moment. Every minute that passed was another minute she was alone with him. It was tearing him up inside to imagine what she could be going through.

"Munch has been digging into his background. Turns out he has an aunt who lives an hour outside the city.

"You think he might have taken her there?" Elliot asked hopefully.

"It's a long shot, but right now, we don't have a lot to go on. At the very least talking to this Aunt of his might give us more insight."

"Let's go then."

"Are you sure? It could turn out to be a dead end and if something turns up here in the city in the meantime, it will take a while to get back here."

"Just hanging around here is driving me crazy. I need to do something to help…. I need to find her, Fin."

"All right, let's go."

Elliot nodded grimly. He was aware how the sheer desperation in his voice had caused it to crack as he had spoken and he knew Fin would have picked up on it. There was absolutely no guarantee that leaving the city wouldn't backfire, but they were getting nowhere in Lawrence's apartment and so if there was the slightest chance that this aunt could lead them to recovering her, he was determined to do everything he could to ensure she told them everything she knew.

…

Elliot looked at the house. It was very ordinary looking at first glance, but experience had long ago taught him that first appearances could be deceptive. On closer inspection, the fact that all the curtains seemed to be closed, despite it being the middle of the day, immediately struck him as being odd. The other thing was the small van parked in the drive. Lawrence's aunt was in her early eighties and they had already checked with the DMV and knew she didn't have a current driver's license and anyway, even if she did, the vehicle was relatively large and it wasn't the stereotypical choice for an elderly lady. It did however appear to be the sort of vehicle someone like Lawrence would drive.

"He could have her here!" Elliot said hopefully, even though really he knew it was very unlikely. The guy had been meticulous so far. He seemed intelligent and it was reasonable to assume he would suspect the police would attempt to contact any of his relatives in the area. They both stepped over to the door, cautiously listening for any sounds from inside. Elliot pressed the buzzer and they waited tensely, both on alert when they heard movement behind the door. A few seconds later it opened a crack, still on the chain.

"Police!" Elliot said quickly, flashing his badge. "We would like to ask you a few questions."

He could see the genuine surprise on the elderly woman's face. She unhooked the chain and invited them in. She led them through to the living room. The place was drab and there was a damp fusty smell, probably from a lack of air and sunlight, Elliot thought.

"It's a bit dark in here!" he commented, heading over towards the window. "Would you like me to open these for you?" The drapes were thick and heavy and even in full daylight they kept much of the sunlight out. Instead the room was lit by a couple of low watt table lamps. It was dreary to say the least.

"No!" the old lady snapped firmly. "Don't touch them!"

Elliot stepped away from the window in surprise. The woman's harsh tone seemed completely at odds with her appearance.

"So what can I do for you officers?" she said with a meek smile, returning to the role of the archetypal sweet old lady so quickly it made Elliot wonder if he had just imagined the exchange regarding the curtains.

"We're actually here to ask about your nephew," Fin explained.

"That reprobate?" she said with a grimace. Elliot and Fin exchanged a look on hearing her speaking so disparagingly of her own nephew. This might get interesting.

"When was the last time you saw him?" Elliot asked.

"Several years ago," she said. "I told him to get the hell out and to never come back."

"Why?" he pressed.

"Look officers, I have my issues with him and to be honest probably the sooner you guys lock him up the better, for that boy is no good, never has been. But at the end of the day he is family. So if you've come here expecting me to help you out with any investigation, you can think again. You'll have to get him on your own."

"Do you know what we want him for?" Fin asked quickly, seeing the way Elliot had clenched his fists and worrying he might over-react. He doubted he would allow one elderly lady to get in the way of them finding Olivia. He suspected that this woman would not be easily convinced and it seemed more sensible to try and appeal to her better nature, assuming she had one.

"No and I don't care to," she replied curtly.

"We think he has someone: a woman," Elliot said through clenched teeth. "And we need to find him before he hurts her. Now, I don't know what he's done in the past, but I want you to know that if you know where he is and refuse to help us and anything happens to this woman, you could be held as equally responsible as he is. You could be facing the rest of your days in a _brightly lit_ cell!"

"I don't believe you!" she said defiantly, although both Elliot and Fin could see she was starting to look a little rattled.

"Believe it!" Elliot said firmly, leaning forward and fixing her with a long determined gaze.

"I don't know where he is," she said finally. "That is the God's honest truth."

"Is that his van out front?" Fin asked.

"Look, I would like you to leave now. I've told you I don't know where he is, nor do I care to know. So please, would you both just leave."

"We'll be back with a warrant," Elliot warned. "There'll be officers traipsing through the whole place, going through every single corner of this place with a fine tooth comb. Is that really what you want?" He saw the expression of near panic on her face at the notion and he knew he was on the right track in persuading her to be more forthcoming.

"They'll tear down those drapes," he continued, "although I must say this place could do with some sunlight."

"Alright!" she snapped. "Look, I wasn't lying about not knowing where he is, but I might have bent the truth a little regarding the last time I said I saw him. He was here a few days ago; left the van and took my late husband's old car instead. I told him not to but he never was one for listening to anything I have to say."

"Can you tell us the details about the car: make, model, license plate number" Elliot asked impatiently.

Fin scribbled down the details as she recalled them.

"So, can you tell us anything more which might lead us to finding him?" Elliot urged as soon as she had finished describing the car.

"You cops are so damned impatient," she snapped.

"Please," Fin said encouragingly. "Anything you can tell us might help."

"Look I'll show you," she muttered, getting to her feet and wandering over to the desk in the corner of the room. She opened the top draw and withdrew something, which they quickly realised was a post card.

"He sent me this a few months ago now," she explained, handing it over to Elliot, who took it and stared at it intently not immediately seeing what was so remarkable about it.

"It's a postcard," he said shaking his head with exasperation. The message was short and seemed benign enough and the post mark was New York, which told them nothing new.

"I thought you guys were detectives!" the woman grinned. "Look at the picture!"

Elliot flipped the card back over and stared at the picture. It was unremarkable. It looked like some kind of local artist's attempt at drawing a seascape. There was a funny looking lighthouse and a yacht was featured. It wasn't that good in Elliot's view, although he would be the first to admit that he really wasn't all that versed in the intricacies of art. He disliked the colouring though. The sea had traces of yellow and pink and it seemed wholly unrealistic to him.

"Here let me see!" Fin said, stretching his hand out to take the card and staring at it intently for a few seconds before speaking. "Hey I know this lighthouse! This is Orient Point, on Long Island!"

"Orient Point?" Elliot asked. The name kind of rang a bell.

"Yeah, it just so happens Ken and I drove up there a couple of weeks back. One of his friends is in the yacht club there and they invited us along for a ride on one of their boats."

"You? Sailing?" Elliot grinned. It was the last thing he had ever imagined Fin doing in his free time.

"Yeah, and?" he retorted grumpily.

"So you think Lawrence hangs out there?"

"Look, the artist's name is at the bottom in fine print; Murray Davis. Radio it in and see if anything comes up." Elliot turned to the elderly woman who was watching them intently. "Do you know a Murray Davis?" he asked.

"Don't ask me," she shrugged.

"Could it be an acquaintance of your nephew's?"

"Could be I guess."

Elliot took a deep breath. It was taking every ounce of control he had not to grasp the woman by her scrawny neck and give her a good shake.

"El!" Fin hissed warningly. "Munch is running his name right now."

Elliot breathed out slowly.

"So, who is she?" asked the woman, watching him curiously.

He froze.

"I can tell she's important to you. For what it's worth, I hope you find her."

"It would help if you told us where your nephew is," he said impatiently.

"I told you I don't know."

"El!" Fin was gesturing for him to follow him outside.

"We'll be back," Elliot warned the old lady, before following Fin out of the room.

"What is it?" he asked, watching Fin replace his phone in his pocket.

"Davis is in the system for a couple of traffic offences; DUI amongst them. Anyway, seems he and Lawrence attended the same high school, so it's possible they are old friends and still in touch."

"So it's possible he could know where he might have taken her!" Elliot said quickly. Let's go and have a chat with him!"

…

It took almost two and a half hours to drive from where they were in Brewster back down and then along to Orient Bay. It was frustrating that it was taking so long, but in the meantime Captain Cragen had got in contact with the local police who had picked Davis up and started questioning him, while Munch and the team continued to look into his background. Twenty minutes before they arrived, the local police contacted them and told them that Davis had admitted that Lawrence had persuaded him to rent one of the yacht club's rental houses for him to use. They had the address and after confirming that Lawrence's Uncle's vehicle was in the drive, they were now mobilising a team. It seemed more than likely that he had Olivia in there, assuming he still had her with him and hadn't discarded her body somewhere on the way.

Elliot and Fin arranged to meet the team there directly. The local police had agreed to hold off on storming the rental house until the pair arrived. Elliot had debated the decision, as part of him wanted her rescued and away from Lawrence as soon as possible, but he knew she would want him to be there the moment they found her. After all these hours, twenty minutes probably wouldn't make much difference anyway. As it turned out the local team stated they needed more preparation time anyway.

They pulled up at the meeting point down the road out of sight of the cottage and quickly introduced themselves to the Sergeant running the operation.

"You two are to wait here until the team locate her!" he told them. "We have to assume he's armed for now."

"Let me join the initial assault team!" Elliot begged desperately, but the sergeant refused promising that as soon as the place was secured and she was located, he could go in, but not a second before.

Fin laid a calming hand on Elliot's arm, but he shook him off.

"They'll find her," Fin said encouragingly, hoping it wouldn't turn out to be a lie.

They both watched nervously from their vantage point as the two teams, one approaching from the front and the other from the back of the property, edged closer to the building. The local police didn't think they had been spotted by anyone inside, so they were hoping the element of surprise would result in a quick and clean operation.

"…_but in what state will they find her_," Elliot thought morosely as he watched the lead members of the team break down the front door and disappear inside.

**A/N Sorry this update is a little late. I've actually been researching a few things for this story. This chapter is a bit of a filler really, but I can promise you there is some major drama to come in the next few chapters! **


	27. Chapter 27

27

The second the news came over the radio that they had apprehended a man inside and found a female victim, unconscious but breathing upstairs in one of the bedrooms, Elliot raced inside, with Fin close behind him. They headed straight up there, taking three steps at a time. They passed the ambulance crew members in the hall, who were also on their way to her, but at a considerably less break-neck pace. As he drew closer to the second floor, the numbing fear in the pit of Elliot's stomach increased. His mind was racing with the kind of awful scenario that might have rendered her unconscious. He was desperate to get to her, to see her with his own eyes and let her know that she was safe now, that he was here and that he would never ever leave her side again. At that moment, however unrealistic the notion, it was a promise he was determined to keep.

Once they reached the landing, they saw the door to one of the bedrooms was wide open and he could hear voices inside which told them she was in there. He barged past the officer standing just inside the doorway and straight away he saw her lying on the bed. Someone had rolled her over into the recovery position. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she was sleeping. To his immense relief he could see no immediate signs of physical injuries; no blood or bruising, although he did notice the rope restraints that hung from the head board, telling him that she had probably been bound at some point. He assumed the response team had untied her as soon as they had realised she was alive. He quickly crossed the room and knelt down on the floor beside the bed, so that he was level with her head, gingerly reaching his hand out and brushing a wisp of hair away from where it had fallen over her eyes. His heart was in his stomach as he noticed the red welts on her wrists, no doubt from the restraints.

"Liv," he said gently. "It's me, Elliot. I'm here. Everything's going to be okay. You're safe now."

She stirred slightly and he watched as she sluggishly opened her eyes.

She tried to say something, but her speech was too slurred for him to work out what she was trying to say.

"Hang on sweetheart," he said. "We're going to get you to a hospital. You're going to be okay."

The ambulance crew had arrived now and were checking her vital signs. He stepped back to allow them room to work, but stayed in her line of sight, for her eyes were still open and fixed on his face. She seemed to be squinting, as thought she had trouble seeing clearly.

"He must have given her something," Elliot said to the lead member of the ambulance crew. "She's barely conscious and she tried to say something, but I couldn't understand a word."

"It's probably some kind of benzodiazepine," he replied. "We need to get her to a hospital."

Suddenly Elliot noticed that she had started to try and shift her position, turning her head downwards. The skin on her face was deathly pale. The ambulance crew also noticed and realised what was happening.

"She's going to vomit!" They watched as she retched, the ambulance crew mindful of the possible risk to her airway given her semi-conscious state, Elliot noting that despite her efforts she didn't really bring much up. He rested his hand on her forehead keeping her hair from falling over her face, wishing there was more he could do. He turned and caught Fin's eye. He was standing back near the door, taking in the scene unfolding in front of him, a grave look on his face, which only confirmed Elliot's own fears. They had no idea what she had been given. They could only hope it was a run-of-the-mill sleep-inducing drug, something like rohypnol, which they knew from experience the body could recover from with time.

"It's alright," he soothed, stroking her hair. He was unsure if the tears in her eyes were a result of the strain of the retching or down to an awareness of what was going on, or maybe even a mixture of both. Something told him she was more aware of what was going on than anyone might think.

It occurred to Elliot, that if she had been sexually assaulted by Lawrence it was extremely possible she wouldn't remember it. If it was rohypnol, then it was notorious for causing memory loss. He wasn't sure if that would actually be a blessing or a curse.

"We need to get moving," the ambulance crew insisted. The second member of the team had unfolded the stretcher. Elliot watched as they lifted her and strapped her on. She didn't protest.

…

They arrived at the local hospital's emergency room shortly. Elliot had ridden in the ambulance with her and Fin had followed behind by car. As soon as she was wheeled in, a swarm of medical staff gathered around her initiating a whole array of tests, some of which Elliot understood, some he didn't. In any case it was all making his head spin. He kept his attention on Olivia. During the ambulance ride she had lost consciousness again, so he had been beyond relief when they had finally pulled up in the ambulance bay. He was standing back, so as not to get in anyone's way. Seeing her laying there, an oxygen mask on her face, IV fluids now flowing into her veins, a heart-monitor on her chest, he felt sick to his stomach. This wasn't supposed to happen. It couldn't be happening.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" He turned and saw a friendly-looking middle-aged nurse, with a clipboard standing just to his left. He recognised the sympathy in her eyes was genuine and immediately he felt at ease in her presence. She was one of those people who just exuded a sense of trust.

He nodded and followed her to a small desk at the back of the room, where she invited him to take a seat.

"Do you work together?" she asked conversationally.

"We used to be partners. It's much more than that now," he explained.

"We're doing everything we can to find out what she's been given and to get her back on her feet again as quickly as possible."

"I know. Thank you."

"Is she taking any medications at the moment?"

"Erm… no I don't think so… No, wait, of course she is. She's been taking an antidepressant and sleeping pills. She…"

He paused, looked up and studied the nurse's face. He realised he wanted her to know absolutely everything. He wanted to make sure she got the best treatment possible and he wasn't naïve. He knew after this, a psychological evaluation was going to be necessary.

"She was raped a few weeks ago; right in front of me. I couldn't stop it. I was restrained at the time and unable to do anything to help her."

"Oh my goodness. I am so sorry. That's absolutely awful…" The nurse looked genuinely stricken and Elliot felt bad for putting such a horrible image in her head.

"As you can imagine, it hasn't been easy for her…" he said.

"Nor for you!" the nurse interrupted.

He nodded in agreement. It was true, but was the least of his concerns right now.

"She's been taking some pills to help out a little. That's why she's on the antidepressant. It's one that worked for her before, she said."

"Do you know the name and dosage?"

"Prozac. I think it's 20mg"

"OK. Thanks. Will you wait here for just a minute? I'll be right back."

He nodded and watched as the nurse stepped over towards one of the other nurses near where other members of staff were still working on Olivia. She whispered something to that other nurse, who immediately approached the doctor. He wasn't sure if he was imagining things, but he could swear the expression on the doctor's face looked even more serious now.

"Is everything ok?" he asked worriedly when the nurse returned to where he was sitting.

"Yes, fine. It's just important the doctor knows what drugs she is taking, to prepare for any possible complications."

"Complications?"

"Antidepressants generally don't mix well with other drugs, but please don't worry. Her dosage is low, so it's not likely to cause any problems. We'll have to await the blood test results to find out what other drugs she has ingested, but we suspect a strong dose of some kind of benzodiazepine; given the nature of her situation, it could be rohypnol or something similar to that."

"We'll need to do a rape kit." Elliot said heavily. It was unfathomable that she was going through this for the second time in a matter of weeks, but he knew hiding away from the facts wouldn't help anyone. At least they had caught Lawrence.

…

They had decided to transfer her to another hospital on Long Island, one with an intensive care unit, for she would need careful monitoring over the next couple of days. It was decided the rape exam would be carried out there too. Once the decision had been made, everything moved extremely quickly. She would be taken by air and Elliot was informed there wouldn't be enough room for him too in the air ambulance and so he would have to go separately by road.

He remained silent the whole drive, staring out of the window miserably. He had a bad feeling about things and it was only getting worse. Finding her was supposed to have led to things being okay. The effects of any sleeping pills were supposed to diminish over time and she was supposed to get better. Instead he was on his way to a larger hospital, with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, every instinct crying out that something was terribly wrong.

…

He had remained by her bedside every since they had settled her into the intensive care unit. She hadn't regained consciousness again since arriving at the larger hospital. The nurse assigned to her had explained that sleep was the best thing for her right now while her body tried to clear itself of the drugs she had been given.

Once questioned Lawrence had broken down and although he refused to elaborate on whether he had committed any kind of sexual assault on her, he had admitted the fact that he had given her a mix of two drugs: rohypnol and ketamine. He had apparently been aiming to keep her unconscious, not merely sedated and had thought combining the two drugs would be more effective. The doctors had explained that it might take several more hours before she regained consciousness and several days for her body to recover completely from the effects of the drugs. They were still waiting for the exact results, but they suspected that Lawrence had been generous with the dosage. In the meantime they planned on remaining vigilant, watching for any signs of breathing problems and also monitoring her liver and kidney function via frequent blood tests. They insisted that in all likelihood time would be a cure, but all the same Elliot was worried. He wished she would open her eyes again, even if just briefly, and give him a sign that she really was going to be alright.

A couple of hours later, Fin persuaded him to leave her side to make use of the hospital's offer of a hot shower and then afterwards get something to eat. They went to the hospital cafeteria and ate a quick meal. They were gone for little over an hour in total, but when Elliot returned to the ICU floor, he was refused entry into the intensive care unit. The doors had no glass so he had no way to see what was going on inside. The nurse who had blocked his entry as soon as he had tried pushing open the door, took him to a nearby waiting area.

"What's going on? Is she okay? Please tell me, what's happening?" he asked impatiently.

"I'm sorry, I don't know anything, but the doctor will come and talk to you as soon as she can."

"I need to know what's going on now!" he yelled. Seeing the young nurse's startled face and embarrassed at the way he had taken his frustration out on her, he lowered his tone and spoke more softly. "I'm sorry. I'm going out of my mind here!"

"I'm sorry. I understand this is difficult for you. I'll bring you a cup of tea. As I said, the doctor will come to talk to you as soon as she can." She turned, quickly heading towards the door.

"I don't need tea!" he tried to say, but his words hung in the empty air, for she had already gone.

"I need _her_…" he whispered sadly, placing his head in his hands as he prayed once again that she would be ok.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N Just a little warning. I think this is an emotional chapter, so just a heads-up. **

28

Finally the doctor arrived. Elliot jumped to his feet as soon as she cracked open the door.

"What's going on?" he asked before the doctor, a doctor Jha or something like that, could even fully enter the room.

"Why don't you take a seat?" she said, closing the door behind her and taking a seat herself.

"Do I need to be taking one?" he asked nervously, in any case sinking back down into the chair, trying to quash the gradually rising panic. He was certain the doctor was going to give him the results of the rape exam and he braced himself for the news he didn't want to hear.

"I'm sorry you had to wait."

"Just tell me what's going on - please."

"She had a seizure."

"What?" The doctor's words completely knocked him for six. That was the last thing he had been expecting.

"She's stable now. We think it could be a result of the ketamine and/or low blood sugar."

"So it's just a one-off?"

"We hope so."

"OK." He breathed out slowly. A seizure was worrying, but it sounded like there was a reasonable explanation for it. Maybe this wasn't really that bad? He needed to stay calm. It was so easy to get lost in what doctors were telling you and forget to ask all the questions you had on the tip of your tongue not five minutes earlier.

"However, we have had some blood test results come back which are slightly concerning."

"Oh God," he muttered, squeezing his fingers together hard, digging his nails into his skin in the process.

"Her albumin levels are lower than they should be and her bilirubin and serum enzyme levels are elevated."

"What does this all mean? Are you… are you saying there's something wrong with her liver?" Elliot asked in disbelief. He recalled the word bilirubin being thrown around after the twins had developed some mild jaundice as newborns and he knew it was related to liver function somehow.

"I'm saying that it's something we need to keep an eye on, that's all."

"But she's going to be okay, right? You have this under control. You can help her."

"I'm afraid it's a case of wait and see, at the moment."

"I don't understand."

"I'm saying, this could be something she bounces back from, or it could be something more serious. We just have to see what happens over the next few days, but I feel it's only fair to warn you of our concerns."

"OK," he said, feeling dazed. This was just a set-back, he told himself. Doctors always prepared people for the worst-case scenario, so in all likelihood she would be fine. There was absolutely no need to panic.

"Does she have any family we should contact?"

"No," he replied quickly. He felt a very slight twinge of guilt. There was Simon, but he knew they were barely in contact lately. He was the only real family she had. Besides she was going to get well. Calling in the extended family seemed like an open invitation to fate. He wasn't willing to consider that. Surely she couldn't be that sick anyway?

"We're hoping she will regain consciousness soon," the doctor added. "The effects of the rophypnol and ketamine should be wearing off within the next few hours."

"I need to be with her."

"Of course."

"Thank you, doctor."

…

He had pulled up a chair and was seated beside her. There was an oxygen mask over her face and monitors beeping all around, making him wonder how she could possibly sleep with all the noise, assuming the drugs were starting to wear off now. He was soothed by the sound of her heart beating away steadily on the heart monitor. He stared at her face intently. She looked odd with the mask covering half her face. Now that he thought about it, her skin had begun to take on a slightly yellowish pallor. He wondered how long it had been like that. Had he just not noticed in the artificial lighting? He understood the reason behind it, given what the doctor had told him, yet he still found it terrifying. His only personal experience with any kind of liver problems was an old relative of Kathy's who had died from alcohol-related cirrhosis a few years back. He remembered Kathy telling him at the time how awful a death it was, but somehow it had seemed so distant, not the sort of thing that would ever affect him directly.

What was he thinking though? Olivia was fit and healthy, not an alcoholic. He was getting too carried away. There couldn't be anything seriously wrong with her liver. It didn't make any sense. He firmly believed that her blood results would return to normal in a couple of days and they would return home, with this whole ordeal a distant memory. He supposed worst case scenario, she might need some monitoring and follow-up and it would mean a few more extra days in the hospital. He smiled as he thought of her reaction when she found out she wouldn't be allowed home straight away when she woke up. She hated hospitals with a passion and he knew she would be desperate to leave.

He suddenly felt an inexplicable need to be touching her. He reached out for her hand and took it in his, circling his fingers over the back of her hand and running them up and down her fingers gently.

"Liv," he whispered, slightly awkwardly as he wasn't sure how much attention the nurses at the end of the room were paying to him.

"I miss you."

As soon as he spoke the words, he felt the tears building. He longed for her to open her eyes, give him a smile, ask him why the hell she was in a hospital and beg him to take her home, but she didn't move. He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it softly.

"You need the rest, sweetheart," he told her, his voice faltering with emotion. "It's ok. You sleep as long as you need to. I'll be here. I'm not leaving you."

He glanced back over to the nurse's station. They seemed busy and not to be paying any attention to him.

He raised her hand to the side of his face, resting it against his cheek, aware that were she conscious she would be able to feel the dampness, but not caring.

"I love you, Liv. Please…come back to me."

He kept her hand pressed up against his face for a while, with his eyes squeezed shut, allowing the tears to fall. She didn't move at all.

He didn't hear the nurse approach until she spoke.

"Are you alright?" She placed a hand on his back and he raised his head. He gently placed Olivia's hand back down on the bed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Here," said the nurse, offering him a tissue.

"This is embarrassing."

"Not all. It's difficult to see someone you love in the intensive care unit. We understand. There's so much going on in here and much of it is hanging around in limbo, which makes it all the more stressful."

"She's been through so much, you know. Why did this have to happen?"

"I'm afraid that's a question I often ask, working in here," the nurse replied sadly.

"I don't know how you do it!"

"Can I get you anything? Some tea, coffee, a glass of water?"

"No I'm fine, thanks."

"If there's anything I can do, you will let me know?"

"There is something actually. I still haven't heard the results of the rape exam yet. I know she was examined after she was brought in."

"Oh I'm so sorry. I will ask the gynaecologist to come and speak to you. She is the one who carried out the exam."

"She helped so many victims," he said wistfully, staring back down at Olivia now.

"Rape victims?"

"Yes, we worked together in the special victims unit for years. We saw everything; humanity at its absolute worst." He continued to stare at Olivia's face as he spoke. Part of him dreaded her waking up. What if she had been raped by Lawrence, a person she had trusted? What if she remembered it? There was no guarantee the drugs would have completed erased her memory.

"I'll call and see if the gynaecologist can come and talk to you now."

"Thanks," he replied miserably.

…

Twenty minutes later the nurse told him the doctor had come up and was ready to talk to him.

"I'll be right back," he told Olivia, touching her forehead briefly before walking away. Another nurse had stepped over to check her vitals and make sure everything was okay.

The doctor introduced herself as they hadn't yet met. He knew the rape kit had been carried out quickly while he was still on the way to the hospital. Thanks to traffic, it had taken them a little longer than they had hoped to make their way here, whereas the helicopter ride had taken a matter of fifteen minutes or so.

"I'm Doctor Shana Safari."

Elliot shook her hand firmly, taking a seat as directed. Meeting doctors in poky little offices seemed to be fast becoming a new routine. He knew the drill. He sat back, waiting for the doctor to speak.

"So, as you know, I carried out the rape exam on Olivia." He blinked hard at the use of her first name. It seemed odd to hear it coming from a stranger's lips.

"I understand she has a living will giving you the right to consent on her behalf," she continued.

"Yes, that's right. She wrote it after she was released from hospital last time, after I had some issues with getting them to release medical information to me."

"I see."

"Please, doctor. Just tell me. I deal with sexual assault cases all the time in my job as an SVU detective. Tell me, was she raped?"

"The exam revealed evidence of some minor bruising and one small laceration and fluids were found."

He sat back heavily, his head now falling into his hands. Even though deep-down he had suspected this would be the case, he had still dared to hope. This wasn't happening. Not again.

"She probably won't remember it," the doctor said.

Elliot felt a sudden surge of anger. As if not remembering it would help? He knew that probably one of the first things she would ask him when she woke up was whether Lawrence had touched her. He took a long slow breath out while telling himself the doctor was only trying to help.

"Do you have any further questions?"

"No."

"If you think of anything, please let the nurse know and I will come back at any time."

"Thank you Doctor," he said flatly.

…

With a heavy heart he returned to her bedside, immediately slipping his right hand into hers and using his left to stroke her hair.

"I'm so sorry, Liv," he muttered. "I should have protected you."

The pain inside him was searing. This was a living nightmare, from which there was no hope of ever waking. How were they supposed to get through this? Raped twice in a matter of weeks? It was inconceivable. He felt like he was being steadily consumed by a dark cloud of despair, which right now was making him question the whole human race. Why did people do these things? It was a something he had often asked himself in the face of the depravity he had come into contact with in his job. Now his thoughts kept turning to how God could allow such terrible things to happen? What had she done to deserve this?

She was lying there, still unconscious, with her health in question. Moreover, when she woke up she had a whole new trauma to face, which would surely only add to the one she had already suffered. He was truly terrified at the impact this would have. She was already so fragile. What if this broke her? He knew better than anyone just how strong she was, but these were exceptional circumstances. How was anyone supposed to get through something like this unscathed? Would she be the same person? Had he already lost the person he had fallen in love with? Could he really do this? Would he be enough to help her through?

He could feel the beginnings of a headache as such thoughts relentlessly bombarded his mind. This was all too much. He felt like he needed air, yet he didn't want to leave her side. The truth was he couldn't trust anyone now, could he? Lawrence had pretended to be her friend and yet he had betrayed her in the worst way possible. How was he supposed to trust that someone else might not do the same thing? There was a documentary he had watched with his son a while back. It had talked about how in the wild, an injured animal was easy pickings and never survived long. Nature was harsh, the narrator had explained. Was that Olivia now? Could sexual predators sense her status as a previous victim and hone in, knowing that she would be less able to fight back? Had Lawrence deliberately waited until she was at her lowest point before making his move? He had plenty of opportunity before to get his hands on her, yet he hadn't. Why now?

Elliot could feel the tears welling up again. The roller coaster of emotions was hitting him hard. He couldn't remember crying as much as he had over the last twenty-four hours over the course of his whole life. He desperately needed her to be okay. The first obstacle to surmount was her health, he decided firmly. He needed to focus on helping her pull through and the first step would be getting her home. The matter of her second assault would have to be dealt with, he knew that, but it was easier to think of it one thing at a time.

"We're going to be okay, you know," he whispered to her, leaning down close to her ear. "You and I. We're going to get through this together."

He felt her hand twitch and his heart started pounding. Was she coming around? He stared intently. Her head moved ever so slightly.

"Nurse!" he yelled. "Can you come over here? I think she might be waking up!"

"Liv," he said gently.

He watched as she opened her eyes, looking at him groggily.

"Shh, don't try to speak," he told her, seeing her attempt to raise her hand to her face, probably to remove the mask, he thought.

"It's just an oxygen mask," he explained. He took the hand she had raised in his own and held it tight.

"You're in the hospital," he said, watching her eyes dart around and seeing the panicked look on her face.

The nurse arrived and immediately began checking her over.

Olivia kept her eyes trained on Elliot's face the whole time

"You were drugged," he explained tentatively. He wasn't sure whether it would bring back memories and upset her, but the confusion and distress in her eyes told him that she wanted to know what was going on and she had the right to be treated with the respect she deserved.

He could swear he saw something in her expression that told him she was recalling events.

"Do you remember?" he asked.

His stomach clenched as he watched her slowly nod, a lone tear beginning to roll down her face.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N First of all my sincere apologies for making promises I was unable to keep regarding this update. Hours after I posted, my daughter fell at daycare and broke her arm. Then I struggled with writing this chapter much more than I anticipated. I was originally going to include much more, but it was getting long, so I decided to split it. So here it is. I hope you enjoy it.**

29

He leaned in, pressing the side of his face against hers, his hand still clutching hers tightly.

"It's going to be okay," he told her. He didn't know what else to say. He wasn't anywhere near certain it would be, but he definitely wanted it to be.

With his ear pressed up against her like this, he was acutely aware of her breathing and he could hear and feel her heart beating. She was awake. However hard things got, the important thing was she was here.

He could feel her grip on his hand loosening slightly and he pulled back surprised, wondering whether she was falling back asleep. Her eyes were closed, but as she felt him move away she reopened them, searching for him.

"I'm here," he reassured her. She started to struggle.

"Do you want to sit up?" the nurse asked her.

She nodded, so Elliot stepped back and the nurse raised the back of the bed higher so that she could lie in a more upright position.

"The ceiling is pretty boring," the nurse joked as she altered the tilt angle of the bed carefully. With her attempt at humor not getting any notable reaction from her patient, she turned her attention to the bedside monitor and all the leads of the multitude of sensing devices Olivia was hooked up to, such as the ECG electrodes and the oxygen saturation probe. Elliot reminded himself again that these things were just routine monitoring devices necessary for any patient in the ICU as had been explained when he had first arrived. On the couple of occasions so far that she had moved causing the monitor to beep, the nurse had always attended straight away, immediately locating the problem calmly and efficiently, leaving him fighting to slow his heart rate down, feeling a bit like an idiot for having panicked so quickly.

"I'm going to call the doctor to come and check you over," she said gently.

She disappeared back towards the nurses' station, leaving them alone. Elliot immediately stepped close again, this time resting his hand on her upper arm.

Olivia raised her hand to her face in an obvious attempt to remove the oxygen mask.

"You should leave it on," Elliot told her, but she ignored him and pulled it down so that she could speak.

"How long…" she croaked.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, guessing what she meant. "Nine hours or so… They transferred you by air from the first hospital you were taken to."

The confusion on her face told him she didn't remember any of that. He watched her carefully as she momentarily closed her eyes and then opened them again. She looked exhausted, as though she was truly fighting to keep her eyes open. He supposed it was the lingering effects of the drugs. Then he saw her wince slightly.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately. "Is something hurting you?"

"Stomach," she said through clenched teeth.

"I'm going to call the nurse back."

She shook her head vehemently.

"It's gone now…"

"Already? All the same…"

The pleading in her eyes tore at him. He guessed she wanted this moment alone together as much as he did, so he nodded. The grimace had left her face and he believed her that the pain had dissipated already. The nurse would be back any minute anyway. He would tell her then, he decided.

"Your voice sounds a little hoarse," he said. "Shall I see if you can have some water when the nurse comes back?"

She nodded with a grateful smile.

"You had me worried for a while, you know?" he said, lifting his hand to her face and stroking her cheekbone gently. He felt like he needed to be in contact with her. It was as though he needed the constant physical reassurance that she was alive, awake and therefore in his mind okay. He reached for the mask which was resting against her neck and gently brought it back up towards her face.

"You should rest. You look exhausted. We can talk later."

Once again she pulled the mask downwards, this time only part of the way.

"Lawrence?" she asked.

"He's in custody," he replied.

He watched her close her eyes, a hint of confusion in them, which he put down to her grogginess due to the drugs. With his hand over hers, he replaced the mask once again. He knew they needed to talk about it. He needed to find out exactly what she remembered, but he hoped she would hold off on the inevitable questions until she was a little stronger and more with it.

…

The doctor arrived shortly afterwards and checked her over. Elliot mentioned the pain she had experienced and studied the doctor's face for any signs of concern, but she remained poker-faced, not giving anything away.

"Could it be because she hasn't eaten?" Elliot asked hopefully.

"Could be," Doctor Jha replied non-committedly.

"How long will she have to stay here in the ICU?"

"I'm not sure. We need to keep a close eye on her for the next few hours at least. She'll be here another eight to twelve hours at least, probably longer depending on how much her condition improves."

Elliot sighed, disappointed.

"I'll be back shortly. We're going to run some more blood and urine tests and I think we should do an abdominal ultrasound too."

"OK," he said. Doctor Jha disappeared back to the nurses' station with the nurse and he watched them conversing, unable to discern anything useful at all from the expressions on their faces.

To be honest he was a little surprised. He had been expecting her to improve more quickly once she awoke. He had imagined a scene where she would open her eyes, be pretty much her usual self and be demanding to be discharged. Instead the extent of her lingering drowsiness was more than a little disconcerting. She looked unwell. Her face was pallid; a very slight tinge of yellow and her eyes looked glazed, lacking their usual vibrancy.

He suddenly remembered his promise to get her some water and he pressed the call button.

When the nurse returned with the water, she removed the mask from Olivia's face and raised the cup to her lips. Elliot watched, his concern ever-growing as he saw Olivia make absolutely no effort to take the cup herself. She appeared apathetic. _Could she have given up?_ He immediately dismissed the thought. Olivia was a fighter. She would never give up. He believed that with all his heart. She was just completely drained after everything she had been through. She just needed time.

She started to splutter and the nurse removed the cup from her lips, raising a tissue to her lips to wipe the excess water away, Olivia still leaning against the pillows listlessly.

"Olivia, can you tell me where you are?" the nurse asked gently.

"Hospital," she muttered after a moment.

"Do you remember why you're here?"

"Ray!" she exclaimed. "So cold!"

Elliot looked at the nurse in alarm. "She's remembering the last time she was in hospital, when she had hypothermia!"

"Olivia, are you in any pain or discomfort?" the nurse asked.

She shook her head weakly, a dazed expression on her face.

"Elliot?" The sheer vulnerability in her tone penetrated his whole being.

"I'm here Liv. What is it?" He felt completely out of his depth. His thoughts kept constantly switching from positive assertions that of course they would work through this one moment, to how was this ever going to be ok in another. He knew he needed to try and focus on the present and not get too carried away thinking about the difficult weeks and months ahead, but it was difficult.

"It's all fuzzy, I can't remember properly."

"It's because of the drugs."

"I… I remember fragments, but none of it makes any sense."

"Tell me."

Part of him wanted to avoid the subject completely right now, but part of him was worried that she would forget the details if she didn't recall them soon, not to mention the fact she seemed to want and need to talk about it.

"Lawrence came over?" It seemed more like a question than a statement.

"That's right," he confirmed.

"I remember we were drinking tea. He insisted on making some for me."

Elliot cringed. He must have slipped something into her drink then, he realised.

"We were talking. I remember feeling so strange, so tired, but also so happy and relaxed for a change. It was nice."

"Lawrence drugged you Liv," he said solemnly.

"What?"

"The doctors found rohypnol and ketamine in your system."

"No, it can't be true. Lawrence would never do that."

Elliot took a deep breath. It appeared she didn't remember as much as he had thought.

"He, he was concerned," she continued falteringly. "I remember he told me to put my feet up on the sofa. He got me a blanket. Then… I don't know… it's so hazy. I remember movement. I think I might have been in a vehicle. Did we go somewhere? I remember feeling nauseous. Did he bring me to the hospital?"

"No, Liv. We did."

"You did?"

"We found you in a house he had rented."

"Lawrence took me to a house?"

He could see the genuine doubt on her face. She was obviously struggling to believe what he was saying could be true.

"Liv, you trust me, don't you? I'd never ever lie to you. You know that. I'm telling you the truth."

"El, I… I think Ray was there. He was hurting me."

"No sweetheart. Ray Schenkel is in custody. He's in Riker's awaiting trial, remember?"

"But I remember. He… he was touching me. It… I…" Her voice broke along with his heart. He could see the tears in her eyes that were now threatening to spill over and he couldn't bear it any more.

"Liv, it's ok. Let's talk later. You're tired. You have to rest. You have to get well. Then we can deal with all this. It's going to be ok. I promise."

"But I feel like I don't know what's real. Is it? Is it real Elliot? Did he… did he touch me?" Her voice had trailed off to almost a whisper. He understood why she didn't want to say the words. It made it so much more real. He stared at her torn as he tried to decide what was best to do. He couldn't lie to her, yet he didn't want to shatter her with a truth she would be better equipped to deal with once she was a little stronger and back on her feet again. He knew deep down he really only had one choice and that was to answer her questions honestly, yet he found it impossible to form the words. He glanced up at the nurse who, still standing beside the bed, had heard their entire conversation. To her credit she remained unflustered in spite of the horrifying conversation. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

"Liv, after you were brought here, they carried out a rape exam and… I'm afraid it was positive. It looks like Lawrence drugged you and assaulted you while you were sedated. That's why you can't remember it properly."

"Nooo," she moaned, her stricken tone clearly pleading him to tell her that this was all just a horrible nightmare. "It can't be true. Not Lawrence. He wouldn't…"

"I'm so sorry," he stuttered, no longer able to look her in the eye. "I never should have left you with him. I'm so so sorry Liv." He had thought he had no more tears left to fall, yet he found once again his eyes were swimming in them.

"I don't understand," she murmured helplessly. "How could this happen? It's just not possible. Are you really sure?" He could see her straining to try and remember and the look of confusion on her face told him she was still genuinely struggling to come to terms with it.

He knew why she was finding it so difficult to believe. If this had been anyone else he wasn't sure he would have believed it either. Kidnap-rape was rare enough as it was, but twice, in a matter of weeks, by two completely different perps? It was almost inconceivable. He could imagine the defence having a field day stressing the unlikelihood of such a scenario. Unfortunately the evidence spoke for itself.

He realised he had been so concerned about her immediate welfare that he had barely considered the reasoning behind the attacks. Now that he thought about it, he was intensely curious as to whether they could possibly be in some way linked. Had one triggered the other? It just seemed too coincidental: the stuff of fiction, not real life.

"I need to take some blood and urine," the nurse said, taking advantage of their brief lapse into silence as they both desperately struggled to get their heads around it all.

Elliot watched the nurse silently as she expertly retrieved the blood she needed from the cannula in Olivia's wrist that had been placed to supply her intravenously with the essential fluids and nutrients she had needed while she was unconscious. She then retrieved some urine from the catheter bag hooked on the other side of the bed. Elliot averted his eyes. It seemed extremely personal to him, a feature of ICU care that made him feel awkward, even though he understood its necessity and knew there was no logical reason to feel embarrassed about it. He wondered when they would start to reduce all this supportive care now that she was awake.

"El…"

"What is it?" Her voice seemed so small, he thought. He had never seen her like this before; so delicate, so uncertain.

"Stay with me." He hated that she felt she had to ask. As if he wouldn't! Didn't she know that?

"Of course I will! You never need to ask! I promise you I'm not going anywhere, ever!"

She smiled, at his heartfelt words and then closed her eyes.

He could feel the fatigue starting to hit him himself. He had been up most of the night after all, only catching a minimal amount of sleep on the uncomfortable chair beside her bed. He glanced at his watch. It was almost eleven am. More than twenty four hours had already passed since she had been taken by Lawrence. He had already worked out she had been in his captivity for around ten hours in total as they had found her at just after eight the previous evening. Assuming it had taken under an hour for him to drug her and for the drugs to take effect and another two hours at least to drive to the rental house, that left seven hours during which time he had been alone with her and could have assaulted her. It seemed like a life time. Ray's violation, as horrific as it had been, had mercifully been quick at least. The thought of seven hours of potential abuse, made him almost glad the drugs had blocked her memories, even if only partially.

He wondered if any videos had been found. Something told him that Lawrence would have wanted a record. He felt physically sick at the thought of her being violated like that while unconscious or semiconscious and anyone else seeing it. He had thought he had experienced pretty much every emotion there was to feel working in the SVU, but nothing was like this. Nothing even came close to seeing someone you loved hurt in this way and not being able to do a single damn thing to prevent it. When he thought like that, he almost hated himself. He should have been able to protect her. She had deserved that. He made up his mind to call in and make sure that if any video had been discovered, no one but the most essential members of the team saw it. He trusted that Cragen would step in and make sure her privacy was protected, but it wouldn't hurt to call anyway.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N Just a warning... the emotional roller coaster is taking a huge plunge again in this chapter. Not sure how well this will go down, but I've been plotting and researching this story twist for a few weeks now...**

30

She refused lunch at first. Then the nurse told her that if she didn't eat, the chances of her getting out of hospital anytime soon would be significantly reduced. So reluctantly she forced herself to take a few bites. Elliot watched her struggle to force the food down her throat, heartened to see her making the effort, but unsettled to see the way she was obviously struggling to swallow. Every bite looked torturous, as though it were a desperate fight to chew it and keep it down.

"Don't push yourself too hard," he whispered to her. "Maybe your appetite will return later on today?"

"I want to go home," she said dejectedly.

"I know," he said. "But you need to get well first."

"I hate hospitals."

"I know you do."

"When are they going to move me out of here?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe I should just discharge myself?"

"Liv, come on. It won't be long now. You're already better than you were even just a few hours ago."

"I am?"

"You seem more with it."

"I'm just so tired. I feel like if I went home and got a good night's sleep, I would be fine." For a second Elliot considered her words. Maybe she was right. It seemed to him that much of her care here involved monitoring rather than any direct treatment. Maybe she really would be ok to go home and get some proper rest?

"Let's see what your doctor says this afternoon," he said.

"All right," she agreed reluctantly.

…

The afternoon passed slowly and uneventfully. By evening Olivia's frustration had almost reached a peak. She had been visited by a stream of doctors from different departments: neurology, nephrology, hepatology, psychiatry, a nutritionist and even a physical therapist. It resulted in no progress as far as she was concerned, for after it all Doctor Jha informed her that she thought it best she stay overnight so that they could continue to closely monitor her.

"How am I supposed to rest with all this god-damned noise?" she snapped, taking Elliot by surprise. It wasn't like her to be quite this irritable, even in such unpleasant circumstances. Considering what she had been through though, he thought she deserved some leeway. He supposed that being held in a hospital against your wishes would put a strain on even the most easy-going of people and added to the devastating trauma she had suffered, it was remarkable she was doing as well as she was really.

Despite Elliot's perceived improvement of her condition, he had to admit it was clear she was still unusually lethargic. She was still hooked up to all the monitoring devices. As far as he was aware everything was registering as normal. Her lethargy, lack of appetite and drowsiness were of concern to him, but surely they didn't constitute a medical emergency? He wondered why she couldn't transfer into a regular ward and why all these tests and consultations were really necessary. The lack of definite answers was disheartening to say the least.

Once again she picked at her evening meal. Even the nurse's threat of a feeding tube didn't get her beyond a handful of bites. She was still receiving intravenous fluids and for the first time since she had regained consciousness, Elliot was glad. As much as he hated to see her attached to tubes and wires, he wanted her to get well and he knew fluids and nutrition were vital.

With the comings and goings of various medical personal during the afternoon and the constant checks carried out by the ICU staff, Elliot was barely left alone with her. Finally after they carried away her dinner tray, they were left together for a few moments.

"With a good night's sleep, you'll probably feel better tomorrow," he said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. This place had a way of getting you down.

"Yeah, well you try getting any sleep with all this noise and wires and tubes sticking out of every orifice of your body!" she snapped.

"I know it can't be easy, but you need to try and rest," he told her.

"You don't know shit!"

He stared in surprise. What was wrong with her? She was glaring at him as though he had just pissed in her best teacup.

"I was thinking," he said, "the hospital store closes soon. Do you want anything?" He wondered if the ten minute break while he popped to the store might not be a good idea for both of them.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. A magazine or something?"

"If you don't want to be here, Elliot, you don't have to find an excuse. Just go."

"Liv, that's not what this is! I just thought you might want something, that's all."

"Maybe you should go home though El," she said. Her tone had changed, he thought. She didn't seem angry any more, rather pensive, with a touch a sadness there that tugged at his heart strings.

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly.

"But, my apartment is close by. You could pop back, get a shower, a change of clothes and be back in an hour or two. I think you should."

"Liv, we're at least an hour away in city traffic at this time in the evening, probably more."

"We are?" she asked, a confused expression clouding her face. "Where on earth are we?"

"Long Island," he said with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Could she have really forgotten where they were? "You know, I need to use the bathroom," he said. She nodded and he headed away from the bed.

He went straight to the nurses' station and slipped inside. Dr Jha was also there, filling out some paperwork. He hoped Olivia hadn't caught sight of him. He wasn't sure why exactly it felt like some kind of betrayal, but it did.

"I'm worried about Liv," he blurted out immediately getting everyone's full attention. "She seems confused. She didn't know where she was back there. She thought we were back in Manhattan."

"I'll go and check her out," the doctor told him immediately. Please, wait here."

Elliot sank into the seat he was offered and watched the doctor hurry straight over to Olivia's bedside. He strained to see what was going on, but he was too far away to tell what they were saying and his lip-reading skills were truly non-existent, he realised.

The doctor returned around fifteen minutes later.

"Is everything ok?" Elliot asked.

"For now. She really needs to rest, but I'm reluctant to prescribe her a sedative. I hope she will be able to sleep without any help."

"Can't she move into a regular ward where it would be a bit quieter?"

"I really don't recommend it," the doctor said. "She still needs careful monitoring. If her condition deteriorates, we need to know as soon as possible."

"You think that could happen?" he asked dully.

"It's possible," she said. "Look, I'm sorry I can't give you any definitive answers. We will know more in the next few days."

"Is she going to be alright, doctor?" he asked, nervously looking straight at her.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid the truth is, I just don't know."

…

He returned to her bedside and drew up the chair. She seemed drowsy again.

"I really think you should go, El," she said after a while, taking him by surprise, for he had thought she was asleep by now. Her eyes were still closed as she spoke he noticed.

"I'm fine here, Liv," he told her.

"Suit yourself!" she said. He had to acknowledge that her flippant tone hurt, but once again he reminded himself of everything she had been through. If directing her anger at him helped her in any way, then he would gladly bear the brunt of it. She needed to work through this and that would involve facing her feelings. He was determined to be there through everything, including the bad moments.

…

He awoke with a start, immediately feeling the crick in his neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position on the chair. Then he realised what had woken him. She was moaning and it looked like she was in some pain.

"Liv? What's wrong?" he asked, immediately getting to his feet, his drowsiness gone already, wholly replaced by concern.

The night nurse had obviously also noticed her patient's sudden discomfort for she appeared almost immediately.

"It hurts," Olivia groaned, her hand on her abdomen, her face muscles taught.

The night nurse pressed the call button, alerting the ICU staff and within seconds the on-call ICU doctor appeared.

Elliot watched anxiously as they worked, palpating her abdomen and asking her questions she was barely able to answer. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but her abdomen looked swollen. The helplessness he felt was all-consuming. He could only watch and wait, hoping the medical staff would be able to help her and explain to him why she was in such pain.

They injected something into her IV line and she seemed to settle. Even though the worst now seemed to be over, with the doctor reassuring him that she was stable, he remained uneasy and sleep was a long time coming after that.

…

The following morning she remained drowsy and confused. His worry was growing exponentially with every hour that passed. Instead of improving she seemed to be growing steadily worse. They started a central line, explaining that it was necessary due to the frequent blood draws and necessity for frequent venous access. They upped her oxygen. They increased the level of monitoring and they began talking about a feeding tube. She seemed to be steadily worsening in front of his very eyes and yet he still wasn't sure why, although he knew of course that it was something to do with her liver.

The doctor asked to speak to him in privacy later that afternoon.

Reluctant to leave her side but desperate to know more information about her condition, he followed her into the office beside the nurses' station and took the seat he was offered silently. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but the expression on her face seemed the gravest he had seen it yet.

"Olivia's blood tests and deteriorating physical condition are concerning me," she began. Elliot remained silent, watching her in dismay as she confirmed what he already knew.

"Her liver is slightly enlarged and her blood tests show that her AST and ALT levels are significantly raised."

Elliot screwed his face up in confusion.

"I'm sorry. These are liver function tests. In summary, her blood tests and other tests we have carried out indicate significant liver damage."

"_Significant_ liver damage?" he asked incredulously. "You can treat this, right?"

"We're doing everything we can, but to be honest at this point, we really don't know what will happen. Some patients do spontaneously recover. However, many don't.

"She's strong, you know. She'll get through this," he said confidently.

"I'm recommending we transfer her to a specialist liver unit in the city, one with transplant capabilities."

"What!" he exhaled in absolute disbelief, wondering if how he felt on hearing this was what people meant when they said their world had collapsed. Surely he was hearing wrong? This couldn't be happening. Not to Olivia.

"Her condition is quickly deteriorating. It's much better to transfer her now before she gets any worse. If we leave it too long, she may deteriorate to the extent that a transfer would be impossible."

"You can't be serious," he muttered, the shock making him feel like he was in some kind of surreal haze, an alternate reality. Maybe if he shook his head hard enough, he could wake up and discover it was some frightfully convoluted dream, although how on earth his subconscious could have come up with something like this, he had no idea.

"Detective Stabler - Elliot - I'm sorry, but it's vital you understand that Olivia's condition is extremely serious. There is a high chance her liver is irreversibly failing."

"What does that mean?" he asked. He could hear the words, but he couldn't comprehend their significance.

"It means she could die," replied the Doctor gently.

And then the walls finally crashed down, the words reverberating cruelly in his head as the tears began to roll down his face.

_She could die._

**A/N Just to let you know, I fully intend to cover more about her illness and possible causes in future chapters, but just as a FYI... Fulminant hepatic failure, (acute liver failure) especially idiosyncratic hyper-acute FHF is rare, but it does sometimes happen, so it isn't completely plucked out of the stars. I researched possible drug interactions (Fluoxetine (Prozac), benzodiazepines and date rape drug overdoses but sometimes the etiology of FHF is just not known. Also, I think an interesting possible factor in Olivia's case is she has had past exposure to pesticides and mushrooms. Anyway, obviously this is fanfic, so is a little out there in terms of so much happening to one person, but I just wanted to let you know that I am trying to write a perhaps unrealistic story as realistically as possible - if that makes any sense. I am not a medical expert by any means, just highly interested, so I am certain there will inevitably be some inaccuracies. (Google is obviously no substitute for actual medical training, lol.)**

**As always my focus will be more on EO and how they deal.**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N I'm fairly certain you saw this coming, but here it is... **

31

"Why is this happening to her?" he asked, perplexed.

"It's something we're looking into," Dr Jha replied softly. "Generally the drugs that she has recently been exposed to are not thought to be typically toxic to the liver in this way, unlike something like say paracetamol, which is well-known to cause liver damage, if too much of it is ingested. However, it can sometimes happen idiopathically, as appears to be her case given her lack of a history of liver disease."

"What's the treatment?"

"Supportive care for the moment. We need to keep a close eye on her kidney function and watch for swelling in her brain, which is a common complication. It's possible she will need some respiratory help at some point. I have to warn you though, that liver failure is usually not reversible and in that case without a transplant, her prognosis is not good."

"A liver transplant?" he asked stunned. He immediately started to imagine months and months of waiting on a transplant list, their lives hanging on a balance as they waited for the call, followed by a long and difficult operation and weeks of convalescence.

"The specialist liver unit will be able to evaluate her for her eligibility to be placed on the transplant list."

"When will you be moving her there?" he asked.

"As soon as we can get the transport team organised. Patients in transit can deteriorate extremely quickly, so she will need to be continuously monitored en route."

"I see."

"If you have any questions, feel free to ask at any time."

"Thank you, doctor."

…

He grasped her hand, watching her sadly. She had only been in hospital a couple of days and she already looked 'frail'. It was unnerving to see her like this. It had all happened so quickly, it was hard to accept it was real. She moved slightly on feeling his fingers interlock with hers and she opened her eyes.

"El?"

"I'm here," he replied instantly, leaning in even closer.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

He reached for the basin that was on the little bedside table, helped her to sit up and lean forward and then he held it for her with one hand, placing the other on her back. She heaved into it a couple of times, but she didn't actually produce anything.

The nurse stepped over when she saw what was going on and asked if everything was okay. She took the bowl once it was clear the bout of nausea had passed at least for now and offered Olivia a tissue to wipe her mouth, while Elliot began to stroke her hair, tenderly pulling the stray strands back out of her face.

"When can I go home?" Olivia asked forlornly, the moisture in her eyes from her effort to vomit making her seem even more wretched in Elliot's eyes.

"Not for a while," he said gently, exchanging a brief concerned glance with the nurse.

"Olivia, do you remember why you are here in the hospital?" she asked as she helped her to lie back against the pillows again.

He hated the fact they had to keep checking whether she was still compos mentis or not. It only served to remind him just how ill she really was.

"My liver," she replied after considering the question for a short while.

"That's right. We're going to fly you to a specialist hospital later on today. Do you remember?"

She nodded and Elliot smiled, glad she was still reasonably aware of what was going on.

"We're going by helicopter?" she asked facing Elliot as she spoke. He nodded.

I won't be able to ride with you though, Liv, so I'll make my way by road, but I promise I will do my best to get there as fast as I can."

"You're not coming?" She seemed visibly upset at the idea.

"There's not enough room for me to ride too," he explained. "It'll only take an hour or two, Liv. I promise."

He watched the emotion play out on her face and he felt absolutely terrible, but what could he do?

"You understand, don't you, Liv?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes," she whispered resignedly, forcing a weak smile. He kissed her gently on the forehead.

"You'll be safe. There will be a nurse and a doctor with you and the pilots of course. You won't be alone."

She nodded and he found himself unsuccessfully trying to stifle an involuntary yawn.

"You must be exhausted," she commented. He smiled, amazed that despite everything that was happening to her, she was still concerned about him.

"I'm fine," he said. "Don't you worry about me: you just worry about getting better, okay?"

She nodded.

"Say, did they get Ray?"

"Yes, sweetheart," he told her. He was getting used to answering seemingly random questions such as these as she remembered snippets from over the last few weeks. Doctor Jha had explained that she was in the early stages of something called 'hepatic encephalopathy' which was making her confused and explained the personality changes he had been witnessing, such as the disproportionate anger the previous day. It was caused by the build up of toxins in her blood which would normally be removed by the liver. Doctor Jha had also explained that in the advanced stages it could lead to coma and death.

"When can I go home?" she asked again.

Elliot inwardly sighed.

"Not quite yet," he told her again patiently.

…

In the end he decided to leave for the specialist hospital a short while before the helicopter was scheduled to take her, so that he could be there when she arrived. He had watched the tears roll down her face when he had kissed her goodbye, but somehow he had managed to wrench himself away, telling himself that the quicker he got to the new hospital the better. Her disorientation made everything that much harder. He was worried she would forget why he had to go on ahead and would genuinely think he had left her indefinitely. He knew her recent trauma was playing on her mind, but that in her confused state, not to mention the amnesic effects of the drugs she had been given, she was finding it difficult to separate events in her mind. It was like she was confusing the two separate attacks and remembering them as one. Sadly, he knew that if she got through her current medical crisis, she would have a long road ahead of her to deal with everything she had suffered.

As soon as he arrived at the new hospital, he met with the doctor who would be her primary physician, a Doctor Richards, and he listened to the doctor's explanation about the kinds of tests and procedures that would be carried out once she arrived. They were going to re-evaluate her liver and overall physical condition and decide then whether to put her on the transplant list or not.

His head was spinning. The doctor's caution was resounding in his head relentlessly: "The number of people on the list far outweighs the number of donors and unfortunately many patients do not survive long enough to receive a liver."

"Detective Stabler," the doctor said gently, startling him. He realised he had been so deep in thought that he had completely lost track of the conversation.

"I was just saying, there is another option, you may wish to consider."

"What is that?" he asked, immediately alert.

"Live donor transplant."

"Live donor? You can do that?"

"Yes, we remove around half the liver of a healthy donor, remove the diseased liver in the recipient and implant the donated organ. The liver is in fact a remarkable organ and generally it regenerates in just a couple of months."

"Seriously?" Elliot said, truly amazed. He had heard of live kidney donation but not liver.

"Yes," the doctor confirmed.

"Then let's do that!" he said determinedly, wondering why on earth it hadn't been mentioned the second he had arrived. "We have the same blood type! I can donate half my liver, can't I?"

"Whoa… slow down a minute! It will take time to evaluate you both and see if it is a viable option, but if you both agree, then we can start looking into it right away."

"Yes! Do anything you need to do!" he said excitedly. It felt like this was the first glimmer of hope he had been offered since she had been admitted into that first hospital.

"You'll need to talk to our counsellor first."

"No problem. Anything at all."

"You'll need to talk it through with her too. If she's able to consent, it would be prudent to get it in writing as soon as possible in case her condition deteriorates further."

"Elliot nodded. Although he understood the obvious need for everything to be above board and legal, his impatience to do whatever he could to help her get well again caused him to feel frustrated at the necessity for due process. If it were down to him he would have them whisk him away for the necessary testing and he'd be in the operating theatre the next morning, if not sooner. He knew he was being unrealistic though. Of course something as huge as this couldn't be carried out so easily. It only then occurred to him. Who would pay for this? He suddenly felt numb as he wondered whether either of their health insurance plans would cover an operation of this magnitude. It would be something he would have to check into as soon as possible.

…

Elliot wasn't allowed into the intensive care unit until they had settled her in. He anxiously waited outside in the relatives' waiting room, hoping that it wouldn't take too long. He had been informed that the transport had been carried out uneventfully, with Olivia remaining stable throughout the journey. It was a huge relief to know that she would now be getting the very best care by experts in the field.

When he was finally shown to her bedside, he immediately felt his stomach lurch as he saw her lying there. He doubted he would ever get used to seeing her this ill. He kept flashing back to various memories of their partnership: the silly little things. The genuine surprise on her face when he had remembered her birthday, the smile she had flashed him in the car when he had told her to flash her lights when she safely got upstairs after that creep Richard White had started stalking her, the way she would share her drinks with him – incidentally something Kathy had always hated and frequently nagged him about, muttering something about germs – the way she would wrap her coat around her shoulders at the end of as shift, without bothering to slip her arms inside, the way she would send him a text after a difficult case and remind him that he wasn't doing any of it alone, the way she would stare down a perp and remind him how grateful he was not to be on the receiving end of that icy stare, the way she would run her hands through her hair while she was concentrating on a file, the way she would cross a busy street just to hand a few coins over to a homeless person, the way she would take a victim, a virtual stranger, into her arms and offer them unconditional support and understanding, the way she would kick her shoes off under the desk and sit bare foot as she worked, the way she would smile at him when he handed her a much-needed coffee. Just everything: all the little things that made her who she was, the things that made her the person he loved.

As he stared at her now and it occurred to him that losing her was a very real possibility, he started to feel the panic building. She couldn't die. She had to be OK. She just had to be. He reached out, once again placing his hand to her head, softly stroking her hair. He loved the feel of it between his fingers.

"I'm here Liv," he said.

"You came," she replied. He wondered if it was his imagination or if she was slightly more lethargic than she had been earlier. He supposed the stress of the trip may have made her more tired.

"Of course I did, silly," he said with a smile. "I promised you, didn't I?"

She nodded.

"Liv there's something we need to talk about."

"There is?"

"I was talking to the doctor before you arrived. They're running tests, as you know, but he seems to think that you might need a liver transplant."

"I know. They explained that to me already." Her tone was flat.

"Well it turns out it's possible for a live donor to donate half of their liver. Apparently it grows back. Did you know that?"

"No, I don't believe I did."

"Do you remember when you asked me what my blood type was that time?"

"A positive," she said nodding, "The same as mine." Then it clicked what he was trying to say and he registered the shock apparent on her face.

"What are you saying?" she asked, her voice a near whisper, her jaw quivering ever so slightly.

"I'm saying that if it becomes necessary, I will donate half my liver to you, Liv."

"But El, not that I'm not grateful, but… you can't…"

"Why? Why not?"

"It's a huge operation, isn't it? You'd be out of work for weeks. Would it even be covered? What about your own health? What if something happened to you? What about your children? I could never ask you to do something as big as that. It's too much. How can you expect me to ask you to do that?"

"Liv, how can you expect me not to? I love you! I don't want you to die. I want you here, with me. I want us to go back home and live our lives and grow old together. I need you to live Liv… I don't think I could go on without you."

"Don't say that," she said her eyes now swimming in tears.

"But it's true."

"But if I need a transplant, I can wait for one to be available. It doesn't have to be you."

"What if one isn't available in time?"

The question hung as she considered the possibility.

"Look, we have some time to think about this. We can talk to the doctors, counsellors, whoever. But I won't change my mind, Liv. I want to do this for you."

He watched the tears now begin to roll down her cheeks and he felt the uncomfortable sensation of those in his own eyes threatening to burst free. He impulsively leaned forwards burying his face in her hair.

"Let me do this for you, Liv… please," he begged her.

He wasn't certain but he thought he could feel her slowly nodding.


	32. AN

**A/N 7****th**** July 2013**

I am sorry this isn't a new chapter. In fact I debated whether this was the right thing to do or whether a note at the end of the latest chapter would be better, but I thought perhaps people wouldn't notice it and I wanted to explain, because I really appreciate everyone who has supported me over the last few months by reading and commenting on my stories and I don't want you to think I have just abandoned them.

I have decided to take a short summer hiatus. I am travelling next week and I have a lot to organise before our trip, but in addition, to be honest, I am just so tired. Work has been crazy since April and what with writing too, I think I have been pushing myself too hard. I think my tiredness has perhaps contributed to making me feel less confident about my writing as I've been feeling discouraged lately.

So I'm hoping a break will help me to refocus. I'll be able to come back to my stories with fresh eyes, edit previous chapters and improve on them and hopefully my subsequent chapters will be even better.

There is still a lot more to come to Peril. I hate to leave it here, but I promise it will be resolved and concluded.

I will probably still read (and review) the stories I am currently following, so I will see you around. Have a great summer. :-) S x


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