A/N: I love each and every one of you. I hope you had an amazing holiday, and wish you a wonderful new year!
DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters. TStabler owns only these words and storyline.
Elliot slammed the phone down, his blue eyes wild and glowing as he turned to Munch, "Sergei Pearlman," he hisses, "He's dead, he fucking died!"
Munch's eyebrows furrowed together, "Was executed, yeah," he told the man, "Happened years ago."
That's when Olivia gasped, touching Elliot's arm, "Sergei's dead…but his brother Ivan, not so much." She handed him the file, her fingers trailing over the muscle that twitched in his bicep as he read it.
"Fuck, how did we not know about this?" he asked bitterly, slamming the file shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "A fucking brother? Shit, please tell me we had a fucking tracer on that call," he said, pulling away from Olivia's grasp slightly to kick the metal chair beside him.
Fin held his phone up. "Of course we had a tracer on that phone call," he told him, "It wasn't long enough of a call, though. All we can get is that it's from a cell tower a couple miles back down the road. There ain't shit out there, so where's he holed up?"
Elliot turned to Olivia, her eyes already widening in remembrance. "That shitty motor inn," they both say at the same time before grabbing their guns in sync. "Let's go," he says shooting a look at her.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa cowboy, slow down," Munch said, holding up his bony hands. "Now, as much as I want to go nail this guy's balls to the wall, we need a plan," he finished calmly.
That elicited a grunt and a slam of a fist on the counter, both from Elliot. "My plan is to go out there, find him, and rip his testicles out through his throat! Okay? That's my plan," he said smugly. "That plan work for you?"
The older man took off his glasses, looked over at him, and rubbed his tired eyes. "As great as that sounds, and it really sounds very well thought out, I'd like not to have to explain to your kids why we're burying you," he said to Elliot dryly. "I'm calling for backup. And I'm going to phone the lobby, tell them to give us a heads up as they come in. Fin and I will follow behind you and Benson, that sound okay to you?"
Olivia's hand came to the small of Elliot's back and he turned to her. She was his calming force, the only thing keeping him anchored to the ground. "He's right," she whispers. "We can't mess this up."
He knew what she meant because before, even thinking of losing her was like a bullet shredding his insides, and now, when they've finally gotten to this point, he knew he wouldn't last if something happened to her. Sighing, he nodded, sat down next to her on the bed, and waited.
It seemed like hours, anxiety thick in the air. Their fingers were entwined, tethering them together silently when the call finally came in. She squeezed his hand tightly as they watched the older detective nod and grimace as he relayed the information before hanging up and turning back to them.
"Looks like he's in Room 216," Munch disclosed. "So, we go through the woods, through the back of the motel, trap him inside before the squad pulls in front and we wait. Ya know? We flush him out like the vermin he is." Munch looked at them, and they nodded in agreement.
Fin and Munch walked out first, but Elliot stopped Olivia before they followed, knowing that they'd be alone for one last moment before it all went down. "Liv" he said, taking her hands into his.
"El, don't," she said, but she knew they both needed this moment.
Their gazes matched and he leaned into her, their foreheads touching. "I love you, Olivia Benson. I've been in love with you for longer than I was able to admit, until now, and when we leave here…" he paused to breathe and look deeper into her eyes. "I'm still going to be in love with you. Nothing changes that when we leave here. Baby, nothing ever could. This is the beginning, not the end."
They were the words he knew she needed to hear, to be reminded that he was not just another person who'd abandon her, that she wasn't going to be left alone after these past few days together. And he needed her to know that she was so much more than a hookup in a romantic setting, or someone to keep him warm, that she was the person he wanted to make a life with, from here on out, to build something wonderful.
Tears filled her eyes and she looked away, touched and afraid. "We gotta go," she said, looking out the door and the words stung at him a bit, but he understood.
Pulling away, he felt her suddenly grab his hand, almost desperately. "I love you, too, Elliot Stabler," she whispered, and that's all he'd need to get him through the night.
The drive was cold and silent. The black cars parked in the middle of a clearing in the woods. "Wait for my signal, do you hear me?" Munch asked Elliot and Olivia, commanding them through the radio.
Elliot picked up the CB with rolling eyes. "Yeah, just…yeah." He slammed it down and looked at Olivia, the lumps multiplying in his throat.
Munch led Fin and their backup away from the cars, and they ran stealthily through trees and brush, into the back door of the motel. They lined up in the hallway just to the left of the targeted room, and they waited, guns ready.
"Go," Elliot heard Munch on the radio, and he was poised and ready to get out of his car and rip Ivan to shreds as soon as the SWAT team broke down the door to the perp's room.
There was radio silence until they heard, "He's gone!" crackling over the static of the speaker.
Olivia cursed, hitting the dash, but Elliot spotted the movement out of the corner of his eye and he didn't think, just acting on adrenaline, his legs pumping underneath him as he tore after the man. It was in darkness, in silence, backed up against a canyon that they met, the man's sneer familiar, and the cold glare in his eyes reminding Elliot of days past.
"Got you right where I want you," he said, his somehow underscoring his words. He was toying with a small remote in his hand. "Right now, your beloved Olivia is sitting in car, wondering where you go, waiting, like little mouse in trap."
Elliot's eyes widened as he realized his mistake and his heart stopped as he turned and started running, but the blast stopped him. "No!" he screamed as he heard the explosion. Panic set it, and all sense was lost as he felt the hot tears run faster than he thought possible down his face. "No, you fucking…" he growled as he turned around, charging after the man, his fist slamming into Ivan's face and knocking the mechanism from his hand and his head back against the red rocks. "I will fucking kill you," he said coldly, his eyes red and wild, blood splattered on his shirt as he climbed over the broken man. He lifted his head in both strong hands, poised to smash it back against the rock.
"El, stop!"
Her voice…it brought him back down to earth, back from the edge, and he froze, one hand in midair, the man below him glowering and screaming about a broken nose. Elliot choked back a sob of his own, turning to her.
"He's not worth it," she told him, watching him throw Ivan down like a ragdoll, climbing off the rock and running towards her.
"You're okay," he said, his hands coming to her arms. He ran his fingers over every inch of her, as if he couldn't believe she was there. "You're okay…the explosion… God, I thought…"
Tears filled his eyes again, and she reached up to cup his cheeks. She rubber her nose against his as she said, "Dumbass over there isn't really an explosives specialist, El. SWAT saw the bombs around the cars on their way back. They had enough time to clear the area," she explained to him. "I'm okay."
The last part, she whispered, knowing he needed to hear it again, and before she could say anything else, his arms were wrapped around her. Scooping her off the ground, he crashed his mouth to hers.
Munch looked at Pearlman and then back at a younger officer. "Cuff that bastard and throw him in the back," he orders, pointing to the SWAT van before looking at Fin and holding out his hand.
Fin scoffed. "Bullshit," he huffed. "Don't think you're always gonna be right, now, just because you were right this time," he told him, slapping a fifty-dollar-bill into Munch's waiting palm.
A wry smile came to the older man's face. "I always knew it would take some sort of near death experience to push them over the edge."
Fin and Munch both looked over at Elliot and Olivia, still lost in each other, their foreheads pressed together, whispering between kisses like two giddy teenagers. Fin shook his head. "I don't' know about you, but I need food, and those two…" he said jerking his thumb, "Whatever edge you think they went over, they don't seem too eager to climb back up."
A/N: This has been a difficult story to write and required a great deal of help from a Guardian Angel. Thank you for your patience and your faith in me. The End.