A/N: I've been wanting to write this for a while now, as it's something in the series that really bothered me. (Not in terms of the writing or the acting or anything like that, but the character's behavior). I will warn you guys before going into this one that there's a good possibility you may disagree with me if you're a die-hard Elliot fan. Keep in mind as you're reading it that I like Elliot from Seasons 1 and 2, and very much like the person who she turned out to be by the end of the series, but in Season 3 and the beginning of Season 4, I had a problem with her character. Anyway, you've been warned. Don't hate me too much if you disagree. lol
Disclaimer: I own a very large nothing.
My Thin Line
When I wake up, I'm sure of only four things:
One: I can't feel my hands.
Two: I can't feel my feet.
Three: I can't talk at all.
And four: I'm very, very cold.
I wish that I knew more – like where I was, for instance – but I'm finding it hard to think. My brain is fuzzy like I just woke up from a long nap, and I know it must've been unintentional because I'm definitely not in my bed. I'm on a hard, cold surface, which explains the fourth thing I realized on my list of, "Things I know for sure."
Minutes pass and I'm trying not to panic. I feel like if I knew where I was and why, I'd calm down some. It isn't until my eyes land on a series of buttons labeled only by numbers do I realize where I am: Sacred Heart. A slight comfort, okay, but I'm not in the halls helping patients or talking to Turk by the nurses' station. From the buttons that stare down at me in my vulnerable position on the floor, I realize in just another moment's thinking that I'm actually in one of the hospital's elevators. But how did I - ?
"What's with the giant needle?"
No. No way. She wouldn't do that, would she? She wouldn't take things that far. She's a doctor. She knows how risky that could be. I mean, yeah, she knows what's needed to knock a person out, but for as close as we are – or rather, were – she doesn't know my complete medical history. She doesn't know everything I could and could not be allergic to. She doesn't know how I'd react to whatever she gave me, does she? Maybe she does, but either way, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because there's just no way she'd take it that far. Even if she knew for sure I'd wake up unscathed, there's just…there's just no way she'd do that!
"What's with the giant needle?"
But no matter how hard I try, I can't remember anything after asking her that. I can remember stepping into the elevator, looking over at Elliot, feeling that instant pang of remorse, that urge to make it all right, the awkward attempt at making things light by asking why she was holding the needle, and then…nothing.
She did do it, didn't she? She drugged me. She actually drugged me.
That still doesn't explain why my hands and feet are numb from whatever it is that's wrapped just a little too tightly around my wrists and ankles. I'm guessing that whatever's cutting off my circulation is also whatever's being used to prevent me from screaming. I move my face a little to get a better feel for what's keeping me trapped. Something pulls at my skin with a small pang and I realize what it is with a burst of understanding: Duct tape. God, I'm on the elevator floor of Sacred Heart, drugged and tied up with duct tape. But wait, I don't remember her holding that. I mean, it could've been in her pocket, but I don't think a whole roll would've fit in the scrubs she wears, could it? So then who - ?
Oh – dear – God.
"Ee-ya! Incoming!"
"Did you just climb down an elevator shaft to torture me?"
"Sometimes in life…you gotta do what you gotta do."
"Look, I promise you…the door open button was not working."
"Mmhmm… No, it's okay. We're going to be able to work this thing out, seriously. Put your hands together…like you're praying."
Of course it was him. Of course!
"Hey! I'll hang onto this!"
Son of a bitch, of course! The Janitor would never miss out on an opportunity to torture me, and since Elliot was the one to ask for his help, there was just no way he could refuse.
But wow, he really did hang onto it, didn't he? That failed prank was two years ago. I must admit, that's dedication…
Still though, I just…I can't believe she would take things this far. I can't believe she would drug me and let someone tie me up to the point where I start losing circulation in my limbs.
I continue to lie on the elevator floor, wondering who and when someone will find me here. The Janitor must have stopped it before he tied me up, so depending on how long I've been lying here, someone's going to start asking questions as to why it isn't working, and eventually, I'll be found.
I wonder if Elliot watched him tie me up. I wonder if she realized that he was tying too tightly, or maybe she did and requested it tighter…
Suddenly I'm on my back, my tied up feet kicking the elevator wall not out of desperation to be found, but anger. I'm so damn angry right now it's not even funny. The little voice in my head telling me to imagine myself as a ninja who just got caught on a secret mission is completely gone, and all I can do is take it out on this damn wall while shouting obscenities into the tape around my mouth, because while I may have done something wrong – while I may have broken Elliot's heart – it was never intentional. I acknowledged what I did; I tried to fix it. I felt genuinely awful about it.
Yet for almost an entire year now, Elliot has tortured me – using my feelings for her against me each and every time – and not once has she apologized. Not once has she admitted to anything she's done wrong.
In the beginning, when she first started going out with Sean again, it killed me to see them together. Why they insisted upon eating each other's face in the middle of a hospital, I still don't get, but I swallowed my frustration and tried to enjoy whatever little time I got with her. Thing is, the same moments that I clung to were the same moments that made it even harder for me to get over her. No, she definitely didn't make getting over my feelings for her an easy task, what with her crawling into bed with me during a late night shift, the small, two second touches she slipped in here and there, resting her head on my shoulder when she got bored, asking me for a shoulder massage… All of those things both kept me going and killed me at the same time. Then, of course, there were her comments – over and over again – about how great Sean was. Like when she came up to me out of nowhere just to tell me how much she loved her dolphin-loving boyfriend before skipping away, or the time she asked if she could take our pictures from when we were dating and cut me out of them. Moments like those hurt me so much, yet in my mind, I constantly defended her, because come on…it's not like she actually knew how I felt about her. It's not like she knew what her comments were doing to me, right…?
But then she made that comment after I beat her to that stupid code; about how it was obvious how unhappy I was since she started dating Sean; how she thought I'd get over it when I started dating Danni, but clearly, I'd just been pretending to. She said it with a grin, like my pain over not being able to be with her was something to be proud of, but what really pissed me off about what she said didn't hit me until I stormed away.
She knew. She knew all along. Every time she crawled into bed with me, every time she pointed out how amazing Sean was, every time she touched me, she knew exactly how I felt about her. But that didn't matter. Not at all. Just so long as she was content with her love life, it didn't matter in the slightest.
And then it happened. Looking back, I wish I'd known beforehand that the Janitor had already dressed up like a clown. If I had known what it would have led to, I would have gladly let him be the hero. Maybe she would have cheated on Sean while simultaneously screwing with his feelings instead of mine. That in and of itself would've made up for all the times he tortured me.
Cynicism swirls around me, its presence stronger than the duct tape around my limbs. I think the one thing that most people misinterpret about my personality is that my usual optimism isn't born out of ignorance or naivety. Growing up, I learned just how negative and pessimistic I could really be, but the thing is, my mind can't stay in that state for too long without it really bringing me down. And when I say down, I mean down down. It's not the moody-blues. It's not another pity party. It's full on, real life, actual –
The elevator jolts and I startle, hoping it's a sign that I've been found. The lights flash temporarily before slipping back into still silence. Someone's up there, trying to get it to work but failing. At least they know it's broken, even if they don't know I'm in here, trapped.
I try to close my eyes and sleep in order to make the time go by faster, but my mind goes back to that day. The day where I played clown for her, and God, how pathetically ironic that feels right about now. When she came over, I honestly did think we were just going to watch a movie. I even brushed her away at first! I laugh bitterly underneath the duct tape, silently wishing that I could've kept that up. But I didn't. I realized her intention (or so I thought, anyway) and soon we were in my room, on my bed; Elliot on top and ready to finally, thankfully, take me back.
But I was just her practice round. I was just her way to prep up for Sean, as I found out all too soon.
And by all too soon, I mean nine seconds after we put our clothes back on.
He came bursting through the door, like some knight in shining armor, and God, how easily she played the part of the princess. She jumped – literally jumped – into his outstretched arms, bridal style, and when she looked back at me, she actually had the audacity to grin.
The bottoms of my feet hit the elevator wall with another loud crash as I remember the look on her face; the way she shrugged her shoulders as if nothing had transpired between us.
I defy anyone to tell me that Elliot's behavior was justified.
And yet, for as much as I felt bad for myself, I almost, almost, felt bad for Sean. At least I wasn't ignorant to Elliot's games, by that point, but Sean sure as hell was. A part of me wanted to tell him just for that reason alone, until I remembered his words from only a few months back.
"I guess I just don't see you as much of a threat."
Really? That's funny, because your girlfriend fucked me senseless while you were away.
But for Elliot's sake, I kept my mouth shut. You know – after she accused me of not being a good friend because I had the audacity to get mad and confront her after what she pulled; after she continued to shove the fact that her and I were nothing by bringing Sean to the bar that Danni and I were in. God forbid I get upset…
"I want you to remember that you're supposed to be my friend."
Yeah? Well friends shouldn't do what she did to me either, but I never heard her apologize.
But despite my anger, despite my jealousy, I swallowed my pride – my pain – and told Sean that nothing happened between us. After being mocked by him again, I looked towards Elliot for a response. I wasn't expecting her to leave Sean; to take me then and there, but a mere thank you would have been nice. Instead I got a nod. A nod. And okay, maybe she wasn't in a position where she could've said thanks without Sean asking what for, but she could have at least acknowledged it later on.
Nope, not Elliot. Saying thank you would have required a full five seconds away from her Super Man, which is simply unheard of.
Now we get to the part where I really, really messed up, and God, do I regret it. It's just… I know Elliot – or anyone, for that matter – wouldn't believe me if I told them this, but I meant every single word that I said when I tried to stop her from moving in with Sean. I was completely and utterly sincere in my confession. Despite Turk's warning, I didn't view Elliot as a product of my "wanting what I can't have" tendencies.
I really, really did love her.
Unfortunately, I have another tendency that I didn't realize until later.
I'm a self-saboteur.
I find myself in a good relationship – steady and strong – and completely freak out. I poke holes into every part of it that I can, and why? Well, I don't really know, to be honest, but my telling Elliot that I didn't love her – while poorly timed and undeniably insensitive – wasn't a result of the habit I've been accused of by Turk, but one that I didn't even realize I had until after the fact. Yet again, I was sabotaging a good thing; wondering when she'd end up hurting me, wondering if I had made the right decision. It wasn't until I heard the genuinely beautiful words out of Turk's mouth on the night I broke Elliot's heart, did my fears about not really loving her take over. I had been so sure while getting ready for the ceremony with her that things were okay; that I'd been freaking out over nothing, but after seeing the complete dedication and love between both Turk and Carla, I couldn't help but think, "Do I love Elliot that much? Can I say those same things to her?" Without realizing that I could love someone and not be ready for marriage, without thinking over the situation logically, I completely and utterly panicked. I told her I didn't love her and ended up on my back. And you know what? I deserved that. I should've been more careful; more sensitive. I should have at least pulled her to the side instead of doing it in front of everyone, humiliating her.
But it was said out of impulsive fear. My admission wasn't premeditated or said in order to manipulate her. Yes, I was wrong, but I knew I was wrong. And I tried so, so hard to make it right. I've been trying to make it right. And I think that's the key difference between Elliot and me.
I wronged her and felt horrible.
She wronged me and didn't give a damn.
She wronged me knowing full well what she was doing; she wronged me without the slightest intention of making it right.
I wronged her and ended up duct taped on an elevator floor, drugged and alone.
And yes, I knew it would take a while before she ever – if she ever – forgave me. I'm not stupid. But I certainly never thought she'd go this far, especially after all she put me through herself.
The elevator jolts and the buttons start to glow. My limbs are so numb and I'm having a lot of trouble breathing; a combination of my anxiety and the duct tape. As the elevator finally begins to move, I can't help but think back on my parent's divorce. Silently, I recall my father telling me that there's a thin line between love and hate.
I never understood what he meant until now.
A/N: Harsh? Maybe a little bit, but even the first time I watched that season, I could not help but think that Elliot was really hypocritical in terms of the relationship between her and JD. I'm not saying JD isn't at fault, but I feel like, more often than not, Elliot is regarded as the victim in that situation. He shouldn't have said it to her the way he did, but when I watch Season 3 as a whole, along with the beginning of Season 4, I can't help but think she's being a hypocrite, nor do I think she was innocent in everything that went down. That being said, I am not anti-Elliot. Her character really improved as Season 4 progressed and I like who she turned out to be (though I think she definitely had a relapse with how she handled the break-up between her and Keith). So yes, her actions from the third season bothered me, as I think was made apparent in this story, but Elliot is a human being, and like most human beings, she made a few mistakes. Anyway, die-hard Elliot fan or not, I hope you enjoyed the one-shot. Until next time.