A/N: I own nothing...but hey, considering it's nearly 2:00 in the morning, I have lots of stars to wish on. Maybe if I wished on all of them...

A/N: Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers for my first chapter: obsessedwithstabler, onetreefan, thutinha, Drop Dead Saxy, WuHaoNi, OElvrs4life, Alicat Sanders, Dramawitsvu17, CarbyLivesOn, and Kaydence Rei. You guys made my day with your awesome reviews, even if you all think I'm evil. Okay, so this chapter is more of a filler, but it sets a lot of stuff up. Oh - and don't kill me about the ending, 'kay? Enjoy, and please review! And please excuse my mistakes...I don't think there are that many, but if there are, I'm sorry. :)

The sirens echoed loudly in the sleepy city as the ambulance raced through the streets. Turning corners rapidly, the two EMTs watched as the flashing red and blue lights illuminated the dark alley.

"Where did that lawyer say she was?" one of the EMTs asked his partner.

His partner, who was driving, had her hazel eyes narrowed as she strained to see through the darkness. "Somewhere in this alley; I think we need to go a bit further down."

"What's that there?" the male EMT asked as he spotted something in the shadow of a neon red light.

The driver sped up and nodded. "That's her." She frowned as they raced to the dark figure in the shadow. "Seth, do we have another gurney?"

Her partner Seth checked quickly. "Yes…why?" Seth looked out the large window. "That's – impossible. Liz, I thought we only had one!"

Liz nodded as she stopped the ambulance and leapt out. "Me too." She grabbed a kit and ran to the woman. "Oh god, this looks bad," she muttered. Seth brought the gurneys over and they loaded the man and woman into the ambulance. Liz jumped into the front seat of the vehicle and slowly turned around, driving out of the alley and racing through the streets to the hospital.

Seth remained in the back of the ambulance with the two victims. He checked the vital signs of the woman first; her pulse was weak, but her heart was still going. She wasn't breathing, so he had intubated her and now kept squeezing the bag of oxygen to supply her lungs with air. Seth could see that her condition was dire; he was grateful the hospital was only a few more minutes away.

The man, on the other hand, was in better shape. His heartbeat was stronger, and he was still breathing, even though he was unconscious. The bullet appeared to have hit him somewhere in his leg, but Seth was pretty sure it hadn't hit any major arteries. He continued to watch the woman in concern as they pulled into the ambulance bay.

Two doctors whom Seth recognized to be Brian Frye and Margaret Christy came running out to meet them. Seth pushed open the doors and lowered out the gurney with the woman first. The doctors immediately received it and Seth began rolling off information as Liz jumped out of the driver's seat to help with the man.

"Female in her mid-thirties, haven't found a name yet, gun shot wound to the abdomen area. Weak pulse, wasn't breathing when we found her; she's been bagged and intubated." He handed the chart to Dr. Christy who nodded and rolled the woman in, assisted by a medical student.

The other doctor was waiting for the second victim. Seth lowered out the other gurney. "Male, also looks to be in mid-thirties, also haven't found a name. This one wasn't called in, but we found him next to the woman in the alley. GSW to the leg; still breathing." Seth handed off the other chart to Dr. Frye who took it and began to roll the gurney into the hospital.

Liz looked at Seth. "What happened to that coat that the woman had on her when we found her?"

"It's still in the back," Seth replied. He retrieved it from the back of the ambulance and looked through the pockets for a wallet. "It must have been his coat," he muttered, looking at the driver's license he found in it. "Elliot Stabler," he read aloud. Seth continued looking through the pockets and then extracted a detective's badge. "Oh boy," he murmured. "He's a cop."

Liz nodded grimly. "We'd better tell the doctors to call NYPD."

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Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak paced her office nervously. She had already called 911 and Elliot had found Olivia (or so it sounded like). The operator said an ambulance would be arriving on the scene soon. Casey could only hope it would be soon enough.

She had already left messages for all of the detectives and Cragen telling them to call her as soon as possible and now she was playing the waiting game. Casey hated the waiting game. It made her anxious and made her worry even more. She tried to pull one of her cases towards her, telling herself that she had to concentrate; she was supposed to be in trial the next morning.

The shrill sound of her desk phone ringing jerked Casey out of her nervous stupor. Grabbing the phone quickly, she answered, "Casey Novak."

"Casey, it's Cragen." The captain sounded exhausted. "You told me to call you?"

Casey was relieved someone was finally talking to her. "Have the hospitals been in contact with you at all?"

"What?" Cragen asked, confused. "Casey, what are you talking about?"

"It's urgent, Don," Casey said nervously. "Something happened to Olivia when she and Elliot were out tonight. He told me to call 911, and so I did-"

"WHAT?" Cragen's interjection interrupted Casey's nervous rambling. "Casey, how…?" Cragen's voice died in his throat as the full impact of what Casey was saying hit him. Cragen suddenly heard faint beeping from another line: he had a call waiting. "Casey, I've got another call coming in; it might be them. I'll call you back."

Casey nodded, forgetting that Cragen couldn't see her. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll-" Cragen had already hung up the phone. Casey began to pace her office nervously again, twisting her hands. She didn't even try to work on her case for trial; she had already given up on concentration.

Cragen called back quickly. "It's bad, Casey," he said solemnly when Casey picked up her phone. "It's really bad. They found Elliot with a woman – I told them the woman was Olivia – they've both been shot."

"What?" gasped Casey. "But – but that's impossible! I just talked to Elliot right before I called the ambulance!"

She heard Cragen sigh on the other end of the line. "It must have happened after you called…they're in bad shape. They said Elliot took it to the leg, but Olivia was bleeding out by the time they got there."

"Oh god," Casey whispered, feeling tears sting her eyes. "I can't believe this…Who would hurt them this badly?"

"I don't know," said Cragen, sighing. "We've got to get to the hospital," he murmured, his voice trailing off. Casey knew that he had bitten back was he was going to add next: I don't want them to die alone.

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"Damn it; she's crashing!" Dr. Christy shouted to her team as the heart monitor began to shriek. "Charge the paddles!" The button was pressed and the paddles were charged. "Clear!" She pressed the paddles down to the woman's chest: no change. "Charge again!" she demanded.

The woman, so Christy was told, was a detective by the name of Olivia Benson. The EMTs informed her that the detective had been found with her partner. He was in better condition, they said. Christy looked worriedly at the blood loss the detective was sustaining. She couldn't find an exit wound for the bullet, which meant that it was still lodged somewhere.

"Clear!"

The entire team looked at the monitor this time in hopeful, yet nervous anticipation. Christy let out a huge breath of relief; the detective had her rhythm back. Suddenly, the glass doors of the trauma room swung open and another woman entered, wearing blue scrubs – a surgeon.

"How is she doing, Maggie?" the surgeon asked as she came in.

"Stable enough for transport," Christy responded. The surgeon immediately took the gurney and raced with the detective up the stairs and to the elevator. Christy watched them leave, hoping that the woman was strong enough to make it through the ride up in the elevator.

Dr. Christy sighed as her team began removing their trauma scrubs, masks, gloves, and began to clean up the mess. She left the room quickly, trying to find information about the detective's partner.

She found the male detective in a trauma room surrounded by doctors. She walked up to Dr. Frye and asked, "How is he doing?"

Frye sighed. "He's stable…enough. He's still unconscious though." Christy nodded. "And the woman – Detective Benson?" Frye inquired.

"Just went up to surgery," Christy responded quietly. "We couldn't find an exit wound for the bullet."

Frye nodded grimly. "Sounds serious." He walked over to the other side of the gurney, making notes on his chart. "NYPD coming down?"

"They've been called," Christy said softly. She tucked a lock of stray brown hair behind her ear. "What happens now?"

Frye sighed and looked at the monitor again. "Now we wait."

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The man stepped out of his car and shut the door slowly. He looked up at the sign at the front end of his car where he had parked: Visitor parking, Mercy Hospital. He clicked a button on his key chain; the car locked itself with a small beeping sound. Straightening his tie, he picked up his briefcase and went into the hospital. His shoes made loud footsteps on the linoleum floor.

He walked right up to the admit desk and looked over at the desk clerk. It was a young woman with red hair, looking to be about in her twenties. The man hoped she would be smart enough to lead him where he wanted to go with enough time.

"May I help you?" she asked him.

"I'm looking for Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson," the man said. His voice was a deep rumble. "Perhaps you could tell me where they are?"

The young woman looked at him uncertainly. "Are you family?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

The man shook his head and took something out of his pocket. Showing it to the woman, he said, "Let's just say that I have some unfinished business to take care of."

The woman looked at the item the strange man showed her and her eyes widened. Nodding hesitantly, she said, "Yes, of course, sir. It looks like Ms. Benson is in surgery, but Mr. Stabler should be in room…128."

The man had already begun to walk off before the woman finished her sentence. "Thank you," he called hastily over his shoulder. He walked quickly through the maze of the hospital to the room with Elliot Stabler. He would have to take care of his business there first.

Two people were in Elliot's room when the man approached it. They appeared to be doctors: one male and one female. The male doctor was bent over a chart. The man rapped on the glass a few times to get their attention. The male doctor looked at the other doctor, who nodded, and then he left.

He opened the door slowly to face the other man. "Are you Dr. Brian Frye?" the man asked him in his deep, gruff voice.

Frye nodded uncertainly. "Yes, I am."

The man didn't even blink. "Are you the doctor in charge of Detective Elliot Stabler?"

Frye was even more confused. "Yes," he answered slowly.

"May I ask about his condition?" the man inquired.

Frye frowned. "I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name. Are you family?"

The man shook his head no and pulled something out of his pocket. Frye took a long look at it and then nodded to Dr. Christy, who was watching the scene from inside the room.

"We need to talk," the man said.

Frye nodded. "Of course, sir. We can talk in here-" Frye's words were suddenly cut off by the shrill cries of Dr. Christy.

"Brian!" she called frantically, bursting through the door. "Brian – come quick! He's seizing!"

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"Damn, I hate hospitals," Fin muttered as he, Cragen, Munch, and Casey all settled down into the uncomfortable waiting chairs.

Munch sighed angrily. "They never tell you anything here, do they? It's like some big conspiracy. They just have to keep all the information away from you, don't they? Don't want you to get any ideas. I can't see how Carter and Abby can stand working here-"

"Carter and Abby!" Cragen suddenly exclaimed, clapping his palm to his forehead. "We should tell them."

Casey looked at her watch. "You could still call them tonight; they're an hour behind us."

Cragen nodded vaguely. "Yes, I think I will do that." He pulled out his phone and walked down the hall to a peaceful spot – at least, a more peaceful spot, as in one with no screaming children or nurses and doctors darting left and right. Sighing, he found the number Carter had given him to call in case of any more problems. It pained Cragen that the only time he ever called the two of them, he always had terrible news.

The line rang several times before going to voicemail. Cragen let out a huge breath he had been holding as he heard Carter's voice begin to roll on the tape; they must be at work, Cragen figured.

"Hello, you've reached Drs. John Carter and Abby Lockhart. We're unavailable right now, so please leave your name, number, and message at the tone, and we will return your call. Thank you." The tone sounded its 'beep' sound.

Cragen cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "Hi…Abby, Carter…this is Don Cragen in New York…" Cragen's voice trailed off and he hesitated, wondering what to say. He cleared his throat again, searching for words. "I'm calling because…there has been a –a shooting." Cragen's voice suddenly got a lot softer. "We don't know who the shooter is, but he hit Elliot and Olivia. The doctors haven't told us anything, except that it was…pretty serious." Cragen cleared his throat again and tried to prevent the tears from trickling down his cheeks. "Give me a call when you get this, all right? Take care." Cragen ended it there and hung up his phone. He was wiping his eyes on his sleeve when Fin suddenly appeared.

"Cap'!" Fin called. "There are two doctors here who want to talk to us!"

Cragen immediately stood up and followed Fin's hurried footsteps back to the waiting room with Munch and Casey. The doctors were sitting, but they stood up when Cragen entered.

"I'm Dr. Frye, and this is Dr. Christy," introduced the male doctor, indicating himself and his female companion. Cragen nodded slowly.

"What can you tell us?" Cragen asked as he and Fin sat down.

Dr. Christy spoke up first. "I was in charge of Detective Benson." She sighed. "When she came in, she was in pretty bad shape. The bullet had no exit wound, so once she was stable, we transported her to surgery. She's up there right now."

The group nodded slowly, worry increasing. "What are her chances?" Casey asked quietly.

Christy sighed. "I'm not sure; we'll know more after the surgery. If she survives the surgery, she has a good chance of recovery."

Casey swallowed hard. This did not sound good.

"And Elliot?" Fin asked softly, interrupting the silence. He was already dreading the answer.

The doctors exchanged brief glances with each other, and then Dr. Frye spoke up. "I was in charge of Detective Stabler," he began slowly, "…and I'm sorry to inform you that…he didn't make it."

The group fell into shocked silence. Cragen could've sworn his heart skipped a beat. Frye was still talking softly. "He was more stable than Detective Benson when he came in…the bullet had made an exit from his leg…he began seizing when he was in the recovery room, which deprived his lungs of oxygen, and…we couldn't get him back."

The detectives and Casey listened to his explanation without moving. They didn't say anything; what could be said?

"I'm sorry," Dr. Christy added softly.

But they just nodded. What else could they do? Nothing else mattered, no apologies, no explanations, nothing could change what had happened…Elliot was dead.

A/N: Gasp! Another evil cliffhanger! Well, review lots this time and I'll get the next chapter up soon - if I don't have writer's block again.

P.S. Harry Potter fans should check out Harry Potter and the Core of the Wands by Hermione's Helping Hand. Thanks to Drop Dead Saxy for reviewing!