A/N: I still don't own anything. Not even my lovely Dick Wolf Halloween costume got me anything.
A/N: Hey, we reached 100 combined reviews - and I had 17 for last chapter! Wow, thanks everyone; you all rock! Thanks to onetreefan, WuHaoNi, SVU 101, Sweet-4-Stabler, obsessedwithstabler, lijep, CarbyLivesOn, AliasCSINYFriendsER, KaydenceRei, Hkitty9013, Abbey06, Drop Dead Saxy (twice LOL), Homogentistic Acid, lawandordergal, Kate Taylor, and Soaringmunkymuffins!
Yes, this chapter is sad. Yes, this chapter ends in a cliffhanger. No, last chapter did not end in a cliffhanger. :P Just had to make that point. Anyway...enjoy and review!
For KaydenceRei...You wouldn't believe it, but my computer finally got its act together and managed to find the spell/grammar file. LOL thanks for offering to help though. This chapter is for you:)
Agent Miller locked the door of her car with a gentle click on the controller. She stepped back from the unpaved road on which she had been driving, stepping onto the grass. Red and blue lights circled ahead in the direction in which she was now jogging. She stopped next to the crouched medical examiner.
"What happened?"
The medical examiner looked up. "Doesn't look like much; just a hit and run. This one's been dead for awhile though; I'd say at least a week." He used his gloved hand to life the sheet to show the agent the victim's feet.
"The shoes are worn here," the medical examiner said. "It looks like whoever this guys was came from a long ways away."
"How was he found?" miller asked.
The medical examiner indicated a group of people over to his left. "Two hikers found him lying on the side of the road."
Miller frowned. "People must not come here often them." She sighed. "But why was the F.B.I. called down? What does this have to do with us?"
The medical examiner nodded slightly and bent down against. "There has been some decomposition to the face, but I think you could still make a clear enough ID."
"Clear enough for what?" Agent Miller wondered aloud.
"This," the examiner answered. In one swift motion, he pulled back the sheet. "Is this the guy?"
Miller clasped her hands to her mouth. She had gasped, not in disgust, but in horrific realization.
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Elliot sighed as he walked down to the ER for the third time that day. His work consisted of tending to patients upstairs and rushing down to the ER for consults. It was rather dull and repetitive, very much unlike the high-paced action of chasing perps in SVU. His most interesting moment of his new job had been saving Abby from the crazy old man with the knife. The old man was now in a psychiatric unit, although he hadn't said anything yet. Elliot was worried about Abby; he hadn't seen her since the incident.
It unnerved him that he hadn't seen her again. He had been called down to the ER, and although the fist floor was always full of people, he had still been unable to find her. The last time he had seen her, she was being led away by an Indian doctor with a British accent. Elliot had seen the British-Indian woman – he believed her name was Neela – several times since then, but still no Abby.
He reached the first floor and made his way to the exam room. He was walking towards the end of the hall when he caught sight of Neela again.
"Excuse me!" he called out to her. She looked up from her chart to him. She smiled in recognition.
"I believe Dr. Lewis needs you in the exam room," she began, but Elliot cut her off.
"I was actually wondering if you had seen Dr. Lockhart," he said. "Do you know where I might find her?"
Neela shook her head. "I haven't seen her all day, actually." She paused uncertainly. "Maybe her shift doesn't start until later…Why?"
"Oh," Elliot said, caught off guard. He hadn't expected this question and he couldn't' think of an answer either. "It's just – uh-"
Neela gave a short laugh. "You want to ask her out, huh? Well, that's Abby for you, always very popular. She's married though, you know."
Elliot almost laughed out loud. "No!" he answered quickly. "No, I just wanted to – to make sure she was all right after yesterday…"
"Oh," was all Neela said, but Elliot could tell she wasn't really convinced. She gave him a knowing smile. "Right. Well, maybe you should try asking Dr. Carter – that's her husband. I know he's on right now; I just saw him."
"Okay, thanks," Elliot said. He paused. "Well, thanks for you help." He smiled at her and then walked off to the exam room, pondering what Neela had told him. He wondered where Abby was, but wasn't sure talking to Carter was a good idea – he couldn't risk being recognized again. The problem kept his mind preoccupied even as he worked on his consult, and by the time he had finished with the patient, Elliot had made up his mind. Exiting the exam room slowly, he scanned the busy hallway carefully. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for.
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Dr. Carter walked briskly through the ER hallway, sipping his third cup of coffee that morning. After Abby had left, Cater passed a long night plagued by insomnia. It had been his second sleepless night in a row.
He was walking back to the admit desk to drop off some charts when he heard a voice from behind. "Excuse me? Dr. Carter?"
"Yeah?" Carter replied without looking behind him in the direction of the voice.
"I was wondering where I might find Dr. Lockhart?"
Carter frowned. "She's out of town," he answered shortly. He continued to walk away, not really interested in answering any more of the questions.
"Do you know when she'll be back?"
Carter was starting to get seriously annoyed now. His temper was already on the edge. He whirled around to face the inquisitive man. "Why do you want-" Carter suddenly froze. He shook his head slightly, convinced it must be a trick of the light, or that his lack of sleep had finally caught up to him.
The man smiled grimly and nodded in response to Carter's bewildered and questioning stare. Carter shook his head again, but it was hopeless. He didn't know what to say, but apparently the man did.
"Can we take a walk, Dr. Carter?" he asked.
Carter forced himself to say something. "Uh – yeah, yeah; let's go." He led the man from the ER.
They walked in silence for awhile, neither quite knowing what to say to the other. It was when they reached their third block that Carter managed to speak.
"How?"
"Witness protection," Elliot answered in a low voice. "The feds said it was no longer safe for me to be alive, and that I was better off dead, so…" his voice trailed off.
Carter nodded slowly, trying to take it all in. "How did you get to Chicago?"
Elliot shrugged. "The feds didn't know I had friends in Chicago…they just sent me here…"
"What about Liv?" Carter asked, almost fearful for the answer.
Elliot shook his head hopelessly. "She's dead." His voice was barely above a whisper. Carter put a hand on his shoulder.
"How do you know?"
Elliot didn't answer right away, but continued walking in silence. "I watched her die," he said finally.
"I'm sorry," Carter said softly. He felt oddly empty. He had just found out one of his friends was still alive, but somehow he felt as though he had lost Olivia all over again at the thought she may still be alive.
"Where's Abby?" Elliot asked again, eager to change the subject.
Carter froze. "Oh god," he whispered. "Oh, my god."
"What?" Elliot questioned nervously.
Carter rubbed his forehead, feeling all the lines of worry beneath his fingers. "I sent her to New York."
Elliot frowned. "What do you mean?"
Carter sighed as he sat down on the bench. Elliot sat down next to him. "After Abby was attacked, she was sent up to psychiatry. She told me she had seen you, and I…" Carter shook his head sadly.
"You didn't believe her," Elliot finished for him.
Carter nodded. "Dr. Wendall didn't either. Wendall thought Abby needed to go to New York to…see your graves…to accept your death. I wanted to go with her, but Wendall insisted I stay here."
"When did she leave?"
"Last night," Carter answered dully. "She's staying with Casey."
Elliot nodded slowly. "And you?" he asked. "How are you doing?"
Carter shrugged. "I've been better."
Elliot sighed. "Yeah, me too."
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A pale red light cast a weak shadow onto the concrete. A woman stood in the shadow talking on a cell phone. Her caramel colored hair was fluttering slightly around her face in the wind. She laughed, apparently entertained at something the person on the other end of the line had said. The red light went out and then flickered a bit. The sound of car wheels squealing as they turned a corner could be heard. A loud crack resounded and the woman fell. The image began to blur. She lay on the ground for awhile until a man came over to help her. She saw his face drain slowly in color as he dropped to his knees beside the woman. He was dressed well, in a suit, as though he were coming out of a fancy restaurant, or having just attended an important dinner, or both. The image was fading in and out now, but the man was muttering things to the woman. He pressed his hands against her blood-stained abdomen, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. The man was nearly shouting in desperation at the woman, who now seemed to be unable to hear him…The image blurred to an almost unrecognizable state. Somehow, the man ended up on the concrete, clutching his leg…
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Abby awoke slowly to the sound of Casey making coffee in the kitchen. She rolled over onto her side, shivering slightly in the cold apartment. She grabbed the sweatshirt she had tossed on the floor in the middle of the night and pulled it over her head. Without bothering to do anything else, she wandered into the kitchen.
Casey was standing by the counter, already dressed for work and hurriedly scanning a file. She looked up when she heard Abby enter the room. "Morning," she said.
"Morning " Abby mumbled. She leaned against the side of the wall, not really sure what to say to the ADA.
"Did you sleep all right?" Casey asked.
Abby shrugged. "The bed was comfortable."
Casey frowned slightly, a bit confused by Abby's response. "But you had nightmares?"
"Don't worry about it, really," Abby told her. "I've had them almost ever night since…" She broke off awkwardly. Casey understood.
"Have you talked to anyone?"
Abby nodded. "I don't know how much it's helping, though."
Casey looked at her sympathetically. "It's so hard in the beginning," she whispered.
"I know," Abby sighed. "It's just – it never seems to get any better."
"It will," Casey murmured. "You just have to give it some time." She drained the rest of her coffee and looked at the clock. "I have to go," she said, gathering her things and stuffing them into her briefcase. "I'm expected in court at nine. Please feel free to eat whatever you can find in the kitchen, or do whatever you like. My cell phone number is on the counter if you need anything."
"Thanks Casey," Abby said, smiling slightly. "I really appreciate it."
Casey smiled back at Abby. "Don't mention it," she said. She grabbed her briefcase and opened the front door. She suddenly paused. "Abby…" she said, turning around again. Abby looked up at her. "I miss them too." Casey offered her companion one last sad smile before exiting the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind her.
Abby sighed and grabbed a mug for some coffee. She sipped it slowly, wondering what she should do with herself today. She knew she didn't have much time in New York, and in that time she would have to visit the graves, or find some way of accepting their deaths…
That would be impossible, she realized. Abby was certain it had been Elliot who had pulled Allan off of her in the ER yesterday. She couldn't shake that feeling from her conscious. How can I accept something I know is false?
But maybe I'm wrong…A worried voice suddenly broke into her mind. What if Wendall is right and it's only someone who looks like Elliot? Abby buried her face in her hands. This was just too damn complicated.
Abby couldn't take it any longer. She had to find out if it would help. As much as she didn't want it to be true, she had to know what would happen if she saw their graves. Resigned to this fate, she dressed quickly, and left the apartment building, carefully locking Casey's door as she left.
It wasn't until she had walked two blocks that Abby realized she had no idea where the cemetery was from Casey's apartment. She didn't even know how far it was, just realizing she would need a car. She sighed, and began looking for a bus map. She figured she could get on a bus and ride around to look for a rental shop.
Luckily for her, she wasn't too far away. Abby only had to ride the bus for about ten minutes before she spotted a shop. She ended up with a dark blue Honda that had to have been made before she was even conceived. She sighed; it could be worse. She checked a map and then headed off.
Abby arrived at the graveyard just as it began to rain. She didn't have an umbrella on her, nor did her jacket have a hood. She cursed under her breath, and turned off the engine, stepping out into the pouring rain.
The ground squished beneath her with each step. She kept her eyes trained on the gravestones, anticipation building; she knew she was getting close. She shivered, unsure if it was because she was scared, or cold, or both. Her breath caught in her throat as she approached the graves.
It looked almost exactly as it had the day of the funeral, except that thick droplets of rain were dripping from the edges. The stone still looked as raw as ever, as though even it knew the names it bore should not be there. There were still plenty of flowers littering the ground. Abby dropped to her knees in front of the grave, even though the ground was muddy and wet. She stared at the two names for a long time, wondering if she should say a prayer or something. She decided against it; she wasn't really a religious person, and she didn't really know any good prayers anyway.
Abby sighed heavily, feeling the rain beat down harder on her back, like the whole world was crying with her. She reached out a trembling hand and slowly traced the freshly cut letters that spelled out Olivia's name on the grave, feeling the grooves each one made beneath her finger. Her face was wet and Abby knew it wasn't just from the rain. She finished the last 'n' in 'Benson' and then slowly, almost reluctantly, began to move her finger towards the 'E' that began Elliot's name.
She lingered, her finger hovering just above the marking on the stone. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to do it, couldn't convince herself he was really gone. That's how you ended up here, the pesky voice in her head reminded her. Abby swallowed hard and tried to push the voice from her mind. Just do it…
She brought her finger down to the stone again, and felt a fresh wave of tears start as she slowly began tracing the letters of Elliot's name. It was as though she were losing him all over again. It was bad enough to have lost him once, but now to be forced to accept she really hadn't seen him yesterday in the ER, and that she never would see him again, was almost more than she could bear. She sobbed uncontrollably, collapsing against the gravestone as she finished the last letter in 'Stabler.' She closed her eyes, feeling the rain beat down on her harder, mixing in with her own tears.
How long she lay there, Abby didn't know. The next thing she felt was her cell phone vibrating against her ribs. She pulled herself into a sitting position; the rain had slowed down considerably. She extracted it from her pocket and opened it carefully.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Abby…it's John."
"Hi," Abby said softly. She leaned her head against the gravestone.
"Abby, are you all right?" Carter's voice was full of concern.
Abby sighed. "I'm at the cemetery," she pointed out bitterly.
"Oh," Carter responded. Abby could tell her was hesitating, as though he knew something he didn't want to tell her. Carter finally began speaking again. "I'm just calling because…" She heard him sigh heavily. "I'm so sorry, Abby."
"Why?" she asked.
There was a long pause. "Elliot is alive," Carter answered finally.
"What?"
"I'm so sorry," Carter repeated. "I – Abby, you can't imagine how horrible I feel now…"
"What happened?" Carter's tone was beginning to scare her.
"I saw him," she heard Carter say in an almost awed tone. "He just came down to the ER and asked me where you were…I turned around and it was him. You were right, Abby. Please, forgive me…"
"I do," Abby whispered. She was too stunned to say anything else. She had just forced herself to believe a lie, and now she didn't have to pretend. Elliot really was alive.
"Can you come home now?" Carter was asking.
Abby smiled. "Did you ask Wendall?"
"Yes," Carter answered. "She sends her apologizes and would like to see you as soon as you get back."
"I need a ticket," Abby told him.
"Already taken care of," Carter told her. "You fly out at three; that's in a couple of hours."
Abby nodded. "I'll leave now and get my stuff from Casey's apartment. I just…I can't believe this, John."
"I know," he said softly. "We'll talk about it when you get back, okay?"
"Sure," Abby said. She stood up and shook the dirt from her knees. She began walking to the car. "So…I will see you later?"
"I count on it," Carter told her. "I love you."
Abby smiled. "I love you too."
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Abby threw the last of her clothes into her suitcase and clasped it shut tightly. She wrote a note to Casey explaining what had happened and thanked her for her hospitality. She didn't tell Casey about Elliot, but just told her that Carter needed her back in Chicago. She locked Casey's door for the last time and slipped the key under the doormat just like she said she would in the note.
She couldn't believe she was going home already. But even more surreal than that was that she had been right: Elliot was alive. She hadn't had the chance to ask Carter exactly how or why Elliot could still be alive, but she knew he would explain it to her when she was back in Chicago. She drove the rental car onto her highway, entering the mess of cars. The rain had started up again, and her windshield wipers worked furiously to keep the front window clear.
It was just after she had exited the highway that it happened. The exit had taken her to a busy intersection where four groups of cars waited for their turn to move again. A large truck across from her ran the stoplight, purposely judging by the speed at which it came at her. But Abby couldn't think about the speed of the car, or even why it had ran the stoplight. The rain was coming down harder than ever; it was difficult to see. But the next thing she knew, the truck was right in front of her. She barely had time to scream before it smashed into her head on, rendering her unconscious. She slumped forward in her seat, unable to hear the cries of onlookers as they leapt from their cars, whipping out their cell phones to make desperate phone calls. Her limp fingers slipped from the wheel as the car burst into flame.
A/N: Whee! Cliffy! LOL I know you all hate me right now. But please review and I will make it better soon, I promise. Next chapter: more memory break throughs, a startling and unnerving discovery, and this cliffhanger is resolved. Not necessarily in that order.
