Main Pairing : Elliot x Olivia
Suggested : Fin x Casey
Summary : When Olivia is injured on the job, will it cause a certain thick-headed detective to realize how he truly feels? Will they solve the case they've so desperately been working on, or will it all be for not? EO
Note : I do not own any of the characters, or the show itself. Trust me, it would be dangerous if I did.
Side-Note : Please enjoy, read and review, and tell me what you think! Love it? Hate it? Suggestions and tips are always appreciated! Thanks a bunch.
P.S : Sorry for such a short first chapter. Longer chapter next, I promise.
"Elliot."
It was barely a whisper escaped between her cracked and bloody lips. She could barely hear herself above the roar of her own jumbled thoughts. It was like her mind was hardwired to pure caffine, and everything was going a million miles an hour. How could it seem like everything was going so slow, and so fast, at the same time? It was beyond her.
She was dizzy. At this point, even breathing right was beyond her. Her breaths came in short and wheezy bursts of air, barely enough to keep her conscious. She had hit the unforgiving concrete much harder then she had originally hoped. Her arm was broken. She already knew that much. She was awake enough to know that. She could feel it, throbbing. A constant reminder. A reminder of what?
"Elliot..."
It was a bit louder this time, and she could see his outline in the distance, running towards her. No Elliot, you're running the wrong way. The wrong way. She was trembling despite herself. She wasn't scared. She was pissed, more then anything. And lost. Why was she shaking so much?
"Olivia! Liv. I'm right here. Stay with me, Liv." His voice almost cracked the last time he said her name. What was the matter with him? Get a hold of yourself, Stabler. He's getting away. You can't let him get away. My arm's broken, but don't freak out on me, Elliot.
"Liv, focus on me. Stay with me. I called for a bus. They're on their way." His voice was rushed and pained, and he kept pressing down on her stomach. God that hurt. Why was he holding her down? They had to go catch him. He's getting away. Good god, he's getting away, Elliot! She kept pointing, weakly, arm just barely off the ground.
"Elliot..."
Her voice felt so weak. It was getting softer now. Hazel eyes strayed from his worried face, to just beyond him. She could see his retreating form, as he hastily climbed over a chain-link fence. Damn it, Elliot. He's so far gone. You know how hard it was to track him this far. What's the matter with you? He raped four girls, Elliot. They need justice. He's getting away. She couldn't even see him anymore. Then she realized the connection.
He thought she was saying his name.
Elliot South Avenue. That's the name of the street the perp just fled down. Elliot South Avenue. Elliot. If she had the energy, she would have laughed at the irony. What were the chances? No, she wasn't saying his name. No, the street name. Go get the perp, Elliot. Go get that bastard. Please. I'll be fine. Why are you shaking, Stabler? Stop holding me down and go do your damn job!
Her arm wasn't bothering her anymore. She couldn't even feel the breeze that caused her hair to cover her eyes, from time to time. She couldn't even feel the weight of Elliot's hand, as he pressed down on her stomach. Everything seemed to be fading to black. Like she was loosing consciousness. But she only had a broken arm. That didn't match together at all.
She had been chasing him, ahead of Elliot. He had taken a wrong turn when they had been forced down some alleys behind Billy's Bistro. She had gotten lucky, never loosing ground with him. Rogers "Rex" Matthews. He had raped four girls, all under the age of ten. Prior offences included battery, assault, illegal weapons, use of illegal substance...The list went on and on. He had slipped out of their hands three times, prior. She wasn't going to make this number four. Well, a little too late for that, when he pulled out that damn pistol and shot her.
It was just her luck, to fall the way she did, and break her own arm. She didn't have time to pull her gun before she heard the sickening crack of bone displacing itself. It was just his luck, to shoot her shooting arm. She had to admit though, it was quite the noise. So loud.
Wait...Rogers had shot her.
Her eyes lazily trailed down her body, trying to catch a glimpse of her stomach. She had been wearing a white sweatshirt that day. When had she changed into a red one? Elliot was shaking his head as he kept talking, though she couldn't hear him anymore. That man had to learn to speak up, if he wanted any communication done. Why was he suddenly talking so quietly? And why did he look so scared?
Rogers had shot her. After a few, long moments, it donned on her, finally.
Shit.
Rogers had shot her.