Olivia awoke to the sensation of being dragged, a firm grip on her ankles, tiny rocks and twigs digging into her back through her jacket. Blood was trickling into her hair from a wound on her forehead, and she winced as she hit a rough patch on the ground, the extra movement sending a jolt of pain through her head. Her head was pounding too badly for her to be sure what was happening, but it was clearly bad. She was debating whether it would be worth it to scream when she stopped abruptly, her legs dropped carelessly to the ground. She closed her eyes immediately, pretending to still be unconscious as footsteps crunched around her.
"Now look what we got here."
She thought he was talking to himself before she heard a distinct second set of footsteps, heavier than the first, pausing right near her head.
"Pretty one, isn't she?" A hand reached out to stroke her cheek, and she forced herself not to react, to keep her face slack and breathing slow, even as her heartbeat fluttered rapidly.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. We need to get rid of the car first."
"Who gives a shit? The police find the car and what? They can waste their time looking around here. Probably even throw them off the trail."
"If you hide the car, there might not even be police," the first man said patiently. "People disappear all the time for all sorts of reasons. They find her car parked next to her blood on the road, it's going to be obvious what happened. If she goes without a trace - well, for all anyone knows she wanted a change and ran off herself. The point is, the more you get careless, the easier you get caught. You said you'd help me on this one. That means you've got to listen to me."
The other man grumbled something, but Olivia didn't hear. They were moving away from her, still talking, and she dared to roll onto her side, moving slowly. Then she opened her eyes. They were at the edge of a field, not in use, judging by the weeds and broken-down fences. A dented gray car sat parked fifteen feet away, its trunk hanging open.
There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. If she tried, they'd be on her in no time at all. And two on one, with her head and ribs already aching, there would be nothing resembling a fight. She swallowed, trying not to panic.
Suddenly she heard humming noise, a strange sensation from around her chest, and she nearly jerked backwards before realizing what it was. Her phone was buzzing, caught under her body, the sound muffled by the cloth of the jacket.
She lay very still for a moment, bracing herself, but the men didn't seem to hear, too caught up in their conversation. She let out a breath, then reached for it slowly, praying they wouldn't notice. Her hand had brushed the smooth plastic when the footsteps returned, coming closer and closer.
"What the hell is that?"
"Sounds like a phone."
Stealth was useless now. She scrambled to her feet, still grabbing for her phone. If she could just answer, she could call for help, put out the alert before they got too far.
She made it two steps before she was tackled to the ground, the phone wrenched from her grip, her mouth covered by a hand. The buzzing cut off abruptly, followed by the sound of breaking plastic. She let out a muffled scream, squirming and kicking beneath the man holding her down. He chuckled in her ear.
"Feisty too. I like it." He looked at the other man. "Go get the ropes. This one's not going to go quietly."
At those words, she struggled even harder, bucking and twisting with all her strength. Above her, the man sighed. He wrenched her upright before throwing her back down hard against the ground, knocking the wind from her lungs. Before she could draw breath to scream, she saw a heavy boot kick out at her face.
There was a brief flash of white before everything faded back into nothingness.
Elliot returned from court as most detectives were leaving, walking to the elevator against the tide of ties and blazers. His testimony today had been relatively easy - one of those rare cases where very few facts were in dispute. He'd spent the time thinking about his fight with Olivia instead, finally grudgingly concluding that he might owe her an apology. Not because he'd been wrong - in fact, he was pretty sure he had the right of that particular argument. But there had been no reason for it to turn into a fight, and that was on him.
They'd both been on edge recently for reasons he couldn't quite explain, and picking fights was an easy way of letting out the tension. It was satisfying, in its own twisted way. But it was unfair to both of them. Sooner or later they would have to talk things out like adults, but maybe they were avoiding it because they knew they wouldn't like the conclusions they would have to draw. But in the meantime, an apology would go a long way in smoothing things over.
The squad room was empty when he entered except for Fin, who looked up and nodded at him briefly. There was no one at Olivia's desk, chair pushed in, files stacked neatly in the corner.
He turned back to Fin. "Hey, did Liv go home already?"
Fin shrugged. "I haven't seen her. But I just got back myself."
He called her number, listening to it ring for a while before hanging up. She was probably still at her interviews, he concluded. He'd just wait until she came back.
He hung around for an hour, finishing off his paperwork, before finally conceding that she'd gone for the day. He tried calling her again, still with no answer, and he snapped his phone shut with annoyance. She was ignoring him. That's what he got for trying to be the bigger person for once. Well, if she decided she wanted to work things out, she could be the one to make the first move tomorrow.
He stood up. Fin had long gone, so he flipped out the lights to the squad room as he passed. He walked out the door, his mind already on the next day.
Miles away, Olivia opened her eyes to darkness.