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Olivia's POV

It was just a coughing fit. I've had a bunch of them throughout the course of the days. But this one, it felt more violent as it made my throat burn and it almost felt like I was choking. But soon it passed. Then went into another and that's when Elliott decided I needed to see a doctor.

"No—" I didn't get to argue before I started to cough violently again. As I was doing so, Elliott picked me up and then before I knew it, he was driving.

"El, I don't need to see a doctor." I said, weakly. My throat felt like it was on fire, but just because I had a sore throat didn't mean I had to see a doctor. This is probably only a case of the flu.

"Liv, you were having trouble breathing." Elliott says, but he was wrong. The coughing isn't getting better, but I can breathe fine—well as much as I could be with my congestion.

"No, I wasn't. It's just a bad cough." I tell him.

"It seemed like more than that, Liv."

"Elliott. I'm okay. Just turn the car around and we can go back to my apartment." I say, hoping that I could convince him. I felt bad enough; going to see a doctor will just add on to how horrible I felt.

"Well, let's go get you checked out anyways. It won't hurt to make sure." Elliott says and I sighed, putting my forehead up against the car window as we turned around the corner. I knew Elliott would take me to closest hospital, which was only ten minutes away. I shut my eyes, wishing Elliott would just take me back to the apartment. My partner may know a lot of things about me, but there was some things he doesn't know.

How much I hate doctors is one of those things.

The drive was quicker than I had expected; which made me feel worse. I looked out the window at the hospital building and tried not to think of all the memories I had coming here. Not just for coming to see victims, but also when I was a child; I had a lot of accidents when I was young, as my mother would say.

"Can you walk?" Elliott asks before getting out of the car. He then goes over to my side and opens the door when I don't get out. Once he does, I start to cough. "Okay, just put your arm around me." Elliott says as he moves to help me as I continued to cough. I continued to do so even after the fit had finished. I didn't argue as Elliott carried me inside. I held onto him. Not just because I didn't want him to drop me, but because he made me feel safe here.

This was the last place I wanted to be alone.

I didn't listen to what Elliott had said to the nurses, but then quickly, I was being placed onto a gurney. I lost hold of Elliott for a moment, before he grabbed onto my hand. I let a small smile show; maybe this time I'd be okay here.

They brought me into a room and soon a doctor came in.

"Hello Olivia."

I felt chills run down my spine and slowly looked up; I knew that voice. I knew it all too well.

I felt myself becoming sick at looking upon the older doctor's face.

I guess I was wrong.

I wouldn't be okay.

I was ten years old when my mother started to date this man. He was tall, 35 years old, had dark hair, and is a doctor whom works at Mercy Hospital. He had met my mother after taking one of her classes, but more recently she had met him while going in for—something. I couldn't remember exactly what. A physical maybe?

It didn't matter what she went in for, but she came out with that man.

One night she had brought him home. I was supposed to be at a sleepover that night, but I felt sick—rather home sick as the girls whom had invited me only did it because her mother asked her to. So I didn't want to stay. I went home and when I got there, I saw those two having sex on the couch.

"Mom?" I said, which startled the both of them.

"You have a kid?" He asked her as he moved off her. She buttoned her top as he got up and made his way into the kitchen, probably for a beer.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"What the hell are you doing here, Olivia?" My mother asked, sounding angry. I knew she must have had something to drink. I had caught on by then the pattern. She would get angry and beat me only when she had a couple drinks; which was most of my childhood.

"I came home—" I was unable to finish. I fell to floor as she slapped me across the face. I looked up at her and held my face to my cheek, tears filling my eyes; I knew a beating was coming.

"Mommy—"

She started to kick me.

"WHY DO YOU RUIN EVERYTHING YOU LITTLE BITCH!?" She screamed as she kicked me. I barely remembered anything after that as it all became a painful blur. She probably yelled something more about how I ruined her life. She never stopped telling me that my entire life.

The next knew I remember was waking up, seeing bright lights as I was put down onto a bed. I looked up and saw the man whom had been on top of my mother.

I tried to sit up, but felt a sharp pain in my chest. I cried out in pain as he stood over me.

"Let's see what's wrong with you." He said.

"Where's my mom?" I asked.

"She's at home. I told her I'd check you out." He told me and I felt scared, looking around at the unfamiliar environment with people I didn't know around me. He had been familiar, but at the time, I didn't even know his name. He was just the face of the man who had been having sex with my mother.

"I want my mom."

"Just be quiet and hold still." He said.

"But—" I then cried out as he pushed down on my chest.

"Stop!" I yelled, but then he did it again.

"Why did you do that?" I cried once the pain eventually subsided.

"You weren't listening. If you listen, I won't have to hurt you." He said and at the moment was when I really wanted my mom. Though, I knew she wasn't coming. Even if she had been there, she was drunk; when she was drunk, she wasn't any kind of mother.

"Why does i-it hurt?" I asked as a tear rolled down my face.

"It'd hard to explain. You won't understand." He tells me. Soon after I heard him mention to the other woman in the room that I had cracked ribs. He didn't hear him say anything else before he tried to stick an IV needle into me.

"Stop!" I screamed.

I probably would have reacted better if I had been told what they were doing and why, but they didn't.

"Olivia, you need to hold still."

"No! I want mommy!"

"Hold her down." I heard him say and then quickly, the woman that had been there, followed by another man who had entered the room were holding me down. I tried to move, but I couldn't. I cried and begged them to stop. But they wouldn't. I got poked three times before he actually got the needle into a vein. I just wanted to know what they were doing and why. I didn't understand why they were trying to hurt me.

But apparently I had been a bad girl.

I told my mom when I got home in the morning when she was hungover. She said she didn't believe me, at first. But then she told me I probably deserved it.

That's when I learned his name; Alex Howell.

That's also when I had become terrified of doctors.

I knew that voice as soon as heard it. I knew that face as soon as I saw it.

It was that bastard, Howell. The one that had screwed my mother and then traumatized me, a scared, hurt ten year old by holding me down and putting me through more pain as he proceeded to help me. Because of that bastard, for the longest time, I didn't see any doctors.

To this day, I got anxious when they touch me.

All I could think about was him.

"So let's see—" He tried to say as he walked closer to me. I moved farther away from him; as far as I could get.

"No." I said.

"This won't take long." He said, trying to reach over towards me and I slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me." I said. He made a movement to touch me again and I kicked him away. I coughed into my shirt as he stared at me and then Elliott. I guess he was shocked, he wasn't able to control me like when I was ten.

"Get away from me!" I screamed, which was already painful enough for me to do. I didn't want him anywhere near me ever again.

A nurse came in and removed him. I laid there on that bed, trembling. I thought—and hoped—I would never see that man again. I began to cry. I couldn't even look at Elliott. I didn't even want to think about what he might be thinking about that outburst. Sure, I could have tried to keep it together. Maybe he had changed, but I knew that there was a slight chance of that even if he still works here after all those years.

I just couldn't bare the thought of him being anywhere near him.

Elliott's POV

"Liv, what—" I struggled to find the right words. I didn't understand what that was about. Why did that man upset Olivia so much? "Do you know that guy?" I figured I better start off with an easier question.

Olivia nods.

"Who is he? How do you know him?"

"His name is Alex Howell. He dated my mother when I was ten."

"Did something—"

"My mother was drunk. I came home when I wasn't supposed to. She kicked me a bit, which cracked me ribs. He brought me here. He—he had p-people hold m-me down and—hurt me." Olivia explains as I look up, though I knew he wasn't there anymore. This doctor did that to her? He did that to a ten year old? What the hell? What kind of sick bastard does that to a child?

"It's my fault, I guess—I just got scared and—asked too many questions." Olivia tries to put the blame on herself. I sit on the bed next to her and wrap my arms around her as she started to cry again.

"It's not your fault." I tell her, squeezing her shoulder. Olivia couldn't possibly blame herself. She had been a kid. It would have been impossible to fight back against a man in this thirties; especially if he was helped by two other adults.

"My mother continued to date him after that." Olivia says. I looked at her and she seemed dazed; it was almost like she didn't mean to say that aloud.

"Liv, did he hurt you other times?"

"It's not important." She shakes it off, not exactly answering the question. Though it was clear, that he had. If he hadn't hurt her, then she would have had no problem saying 'no'.

"It's okay, you don't have to talk about it. I'm going to go ask for another doctor." I say, getting up. I felt Olivia grab onto me. Her grip was tight. She wasn't looking directly at me, but I could tell by her body language that she was scared. I understood. Anyone would be after the trauma she suffered as a child.

I had to resist the urge to go punch the crap out of that guy.

"Don't go." Olivia eventually says, softly.

"I'm sure they'll be sending a different one anyways." I said, mostly to myself, giving myself a reason to not leave, for Olivia's sake. I wasn't going to leave her if she didn't want me to. "Move over."

When Olivia moved, I sat down on the bed. I put my arm around Olivia and then gently pushed her to lean into me. Once she allowed herself to be laying against me, I kept my one arm tightly around her as I stroked her hair. A small smile grew on my face. It was nice. I liked being able to comfort her.

"I'm here for you, Olivia." I say as I place a small kiss onto her forehead.

"I know."

A/N: Please don't forget to review.