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April 14

Elliot walked at a slow, slightly ragged pace, his arm wrapped tightly around Olivia's waist to keep her from crumbling over again. He considered carrying her, but when he tried, the growl that emitted from Olivia's throat told him that she wasn't completely helpless. Even through her shirt, he could still feel her burning hot skin and the way her body was trembling told him that there was something really wrong with her. They needed a hospital and quickly. Hopefully at this Bates Motel they would be able to get their hands on a phone and get her help soon.

"You doing okay there, Liv?" She nodded, allowing her head to weakly loll back against his neck. He waited for more of an answer, for reassurance from the strongest woman he had ever known, but he got nothing except her labored breathing and delusional muttering.

It seemed like forever when they at last got to the motel. He would never admit this to anyone, but on the inside Elliot was panicking like a child who lost their parents. The worst possible situations kept popping in and out of his head. What if there was no phone? What if this was life threatening? What if it was his fault that she dies? Having the urge to finally tell her how he felt about her seemed like a good idea right then, having the heart wrenching suspicion that he might never get a chance like this again. Elliot wanted to smack himself, to assure himself that there was no way Olivia was fatally wounded. It seemed stupid, but Elliot always had a feeling that Olivia wouldn't let herself die, not like this anyway. It was a belief he'd had since he was a child, that only the strong would live until they died of natural causes and the weak would die in tragic accidents. If you didn't want to die, you didn't have to. You just needed to be strong about it and he knew there was no better person than Olivia.

Elliot clumsily trudged up the driveway, exhaustion taking over him as he nearly dragged Olivia behind him. The neon blue sign splayed an eerie light across the dirt of the parking lot where there were two old, rusty cars that didn't look like they worked. It gave him the chills and he involuntarily tightened his grip around her waist. His detective instincts immediately found the front office, located at the far left end of the motel with a dim light burning inside. As Elliot walked quickly, nearly tripping over himself several times, his eyes momentarily wandered to the hill behind the motel and he became startled when he saw an old rickety house. Quite frankly it scared the absolute shit out of him, not only because it looked like something out of a scary movie, but because through the upstairs window of the house he spotted the lingering silhouette of a woman.

"El." Olivia's faint moan was enough to tear his eyes away from the creepy house and cradle her head against his chest.

"It's okay,Liv. We're almost there," he soothed gently, wanting to make her pain go away with all of his being. It hurt him so badly to see her like this, to feel her body become more drained of energy every small step they took. It made him want to cry for her because he knew if she had a choice, she would never let anyone witness her so vulnerable and broken.

"I-it hurts," she whimpered in a barely audible voice, slightly muffled from his warm chest. Elliot didn't know what he was doing, not in the moment anyway. All he knew was that several seconds later his lips were in contact with her hair, her fruity, soft, beautiful hair that may or may not have haunted his dreams every night. All he knew was that it was the best feeling he had ever experienced in his whole life. Although it might have seemed a petty accomplishment to other people, it was something that had always been forbidden, something that he would have never considered actually doing. Elliot only dreamed about actions like this, some of them more erotic than others. This kiss was gentle and soothing and he hoped that it brought about some sort of comfort for Olivia, knowing that there was someone taking care of her, someone that would never let her go for as long as he lived.


Finally, Elliot swung open the old, wooden door leading into the motel office. He was startled, disappointed, and frightened to see that it was not only empty, but filled with stuffed animals, and not the kind Eli played with either. There was a moose, a white dog, a couple of wolves, and a few weird ass raccoons that seemed to glare at him as he led Olivia over to a cheap, uncomfortable looking chair. She collapsed in it gratefully and her breathing seemed to instantly slow.

After lovingly smoothing the hair out of Olivia's face so that she could see her surroundings, Elliot turned towards the front desk, where behind it there was a back room clearly visible. No one was in there either and there wasn't a phone in sight or any electronic equipment for that matter. Elliot's mind instantly flashed back to the house he had only recently seen located up on the steep hill. He was reluctant, scared that something was going to happen to Olivia if he left her here alone. He knew she was far too exhausted to walk anymore.

"Liv," he whispered, kneeling down beside her. Her dark, tired eyes fluttered open to met his, though Elliot could tell they could barely stay open. "I'm going to go find someone that can get us a room here and call a hospital so we can get you help." All he received in response was a low moan that he took as an agreement. He gently muttered some comforting words to her before he swung the door open and jogged across the driveway, pausing at the beginning of the stone steps that led up to the house on the hill.

His eyes flickered up to the window where he had seen the woman, but the light was out and she was no longer there. At that moment, Elliot had the overwhelming urge for a flashlight and his gun. Damn these stupid laws that said that he and Olivia had to leave their guns in New York. Why the fuck would they do that? He took a hesitant step onto the slate gray stone and he instantly contemplated running away. The detective wanted to curse himself out for being such a pussy, for being too scared to go up to a creepy house and ask for a phone. This was not the Elliot Stabler that he had been in New York City. There he was confident, he had no doubt in his mind that with the help of his beautiful and charming partner, that they would catch any son of a bitch that crossed their path. It was then, hesitating on the stairs that Elliot realized he was basically nothing without his partner, nothing at all.

With one last heated, and determined sigh, Elliot sprinted up the stairs, ignoring the slicing pains as sharp, overgrown weeds slapped at his arms and seemed to pull him away from the house. If Elliot thought that plants could communicate, he would be certain that they were warning him of something. Except Elliot knew plants couldn't communicate, so he shook his head, trying to convince himself that he wasn't going crazy, not yet at least.

The weeds slowed his running down slightly and the steepness of the stairs made it harder to travel at a fast, brisk pace, but he made it up there in good time. Elliot took a moment to look out over the view below the house. It would have been a beautiful sight had he been there on under different circumstances, especially in the daylight. The desert seemed to stretch out for miles on end, with nothing but the mountains in the distance for his eyes to see. Elliot didn't want to knock on the ancient looking door, nor did he want to communicate to whoever was inside, but he knew he had too. He didn't really have a choice at this point.

So, hesitantly, Elliot raised his hand to the door and knocked three, loud, long times. He heard nothing, maybe they were asleep, but he had just seen the woman in the window, so it wasn't really likely. He was justabout to knock again when the door opened.

"You were the caretaker here, Mr. Grady."- Jack Torrance, The Shining