10

The hospital

He had been there at least twenty minutes before she finally spoke beyond the subdued hello she had greeted with him when he had first arrived. He had been surprised to find her standing when he had entered in the room. It had taken some serious persuasion for him to convince the doctor that there was no need for the nurse who had been assigned to watch her to remain there while he was visiting. He imagined the lack of privacy was hard on her, but it seemed better than risking her life. Given the seriousness of the situation and the complete lack of any attempt on her behalf to convince anyone that she wouldn't try again, they had placed her in one of the padded rooms they reserved for the most serious of cases. It was heart breaking to walk in and see her there. She was facing the wall, apparently lost in thought. Now she finally spun around to face him as she spoke.

"They took my bra too you know," she stated simply, although the hidden accusation in her tone was obvious. He knew then that she blamed him for this.

"I'm sorry Liv," he said awkwardly. He was sorry she was in this situation sure, but he certainly wasn't sorry that these precautions were going to ensure she stayed alive and well to give her the chance to face everything and eventually get through this.

"No you're not."

"Liv, please… I didn't have any say anyway really."

"What do they think I am going to do with my God-damned bra? Do you realize how humiliating it is to be told to remove your underwear? Haven't I been through enough?"

His heart sank as the truth of her words hit home. She was a rape victim. Being asked to remove items of clothing and being watched twenty four seven was hardly ideal. She needed care and compassion, not this. Not for the first time he questioned the validity of this approach, but then he immediately recalled the sight of her lying there unconscious when he had entered her bedroom. She could have died. In fact she would have had he not turned up when he had. This was serious.

"Liv," he said. "I know this is hard, but your life is worth it."

"Is it?"

"Of course it is!"

He watched her sadly as she remained staring back at him expressionlessly. He stepped forward nervously, wanting to take her into his arms, but worried that she wouldn't be receptive to him given her obvious anger towards him right now.

"What if I promise I won't do anything, if you get me out of here," she suddenly said quietly, her tone desperate and pleading, her expression softening with raw emotion. A wave of helplessness went crashing through him. Here she was virtually begging him and he couldn't do a thing, certainly not until the seventy two hours was over anyway.

"Liv, talk to the therapist. Convince them you are no longer suicidal, that it was all a huge mistake and I promise I will take you home."

His stomach muscles clenched as he saw the flash of frustrated anger that crossed her face before she turned, refusing to look at him any longer.

"Just go, El," she instructed him coldly.

"Liv, please."

"Just go!" she suddenly shouted. "Leave me alone. I don't want you here."

The door immediately opened, a result of her yelling he supposed, and two nurses came in to see what had upset their patient.

"What's going on?" one of them asked, giving Elliot a stern glance before approaching Olivia.

"Nothing," Elliot said weakly. "She's upset about being here."

"No, I'm not. I just want him to leave," Olivia said firmly.

"Liv, please," Elliot begged.

"Maybe it's for the best," the other nurse said. "She's getting agitated. You can try stopping by again later."

"Fine," Elliot said, not seeing he had much choice when Olivia herself was asking him to go.

"I'll call by later, Liv," he told her softly, but she didn't respond.

"It's quite common for patients to push loved ones away at a time like this," the second nurse explained quietly once they were outside her room. She had followed him out leaving the other nurse in with Olivia.

"She blames me," he said miserably. "She asked me to take her home."

"I understand. I'm sorry. This is difficult for her and for you. Honestly, just give her a little time. She'll probably be glad to see you again after she's had some time to calm down and think."

"OK," he said resignedly. "I think I might pop home and get a shower. I'll come back in a couple of hours."

"That sounds like a good idea."

…

Elliot's home

He had resigned himself to finally facing his own death and had prayed, mostly for the welfare of his children and for Olivia, but also for them to know within their hearts truly how much he loved them. It was without guilt that he admitted this feeling towards her too. Had he been asked to define that love exactly, it may have been a different story, but love was an emotion with so many facets and he was in no doubt that the word encompassed his feelings to his old partner somehow. Even during all the time since he had last seen her, his feelings had never abated, a fact he had only truly been conscious of that moment he had seen her through his peep hole and opened his door to her. He was certain then that he would never willingly allow so much time to pass without seeing her again.

The sound of the police breaking down his front door took him aback, for he had given up on all hope of anyone coming to the rescue in time. As he strained to hear their progress and realized they were already coming up the stairs he began to dare entertain the idea that he might be found in time: after all he had survived this long. Maybe the blood loss, while obviously significant, wasn't as severe as he had feared?

"Help!" he tried to shout, but was surprised at the husky weak sound that barely emanated from him. It scared him. He had never felt this weak in his life.

He watched as the first of the emergency team came crashing through into his bedroom and immediately croaked instructions for them to check on his wife. The second man turned his attention to her, but the first continued towards him, introducing himself quickly and asking where he had been injured.

"Is she dead?" he asked. He knew the answer, but he needed the confirmation.

"No pulse," the man who had approached Kathy called out. Elliot closed his eyes momentarily as he took in the fact that his wife really was dead. He could hear the consequent conversation, but it felt almost unreal, unimportant compared to the fate of his wife… and Olivia.

"He's lost a lot of blood."

"We need to start an IV."

"We'd better get him in fast. Looks like he probably needs blood."

"Can you grab the stretcher?"

"Mr Stabler. Are you with me? Can you hear me?"

"Olivia…" he muttered. "You need to find her."

"Olivia?"

"Lewis has got her. I don't know where they went!"

"Look, we need to get you to the hospital. Is there anyone we can call for you?"

He shook his head.

The Mayer family home

Her head was spinning. He had forced more alcohol down her throat and the effects of the earlier sleeping pills hadn't yet completely worn off. She struggled to focus, wondering for several moments where on earth she was and why she couldn't move her hands. They were pinned behind her back and for that matter her legs were immobilized too. She realized she was tied to a chair. She could barely remember what had led to her being in this predicament, but as she took in the familiar figure across the room, she suddenly remembered. Lewis had broken into her apartment and been torturing her ever since.

Her thoughts turned to Elliot for some reason. She hadn't seen him in a few years, but even so she found herself longing for his presence. A small part of her couldn't help but wish he would come bursting through the bedroom door right now and beat the shit out of Lewis, hopefully leaving him with a permanent physical reminder to prevent him from ever daring to set foot near another woman again for as long as he lived.

"Good, you're awake!" she heard him. She realized he was drawing near. She quickly clamped her eyes shut. She had no desire for any further interaction with him. So far none of it had ended well for her.

"Open your eyes, bitch," he barked at her, taking her by surprise. He had been threatening, violent, condescending, but it was the first time he had used that term with her. Until now he had been more focused on acting like they were in some kind of weird loving relationship; the way he had stroked her hair, told her how beautiful her eyes were and all the rest of it. This sudden change alarmed her. Was he escalating? Did he have something even worse in store for her? She was suddenly aware of how little she remembered of what had happened in the last few hours. She could feel pain between her legs and she dreaded the possible reason for that, but since she had no recollection of him actually penetrating her, she preferred to believe he hadn't. The thought of accepting that the monster had in fact raped her would destroy what little strength and resolve she had left. Everything was so fuzzy. It was easy to tell herself that the snippets of events she did remember were just figments of a drug-induced overactive imagination.

Then he disappeared out of view and she found the nerves growing in the pit of her stomach, dreading what torture he might have thought up next for her.

She turned her attention to the room. She was pinned to a chair close to the window of a bedroom she didn't recognize. It was well decorated, on the large side, with expensive looking furniture and bed sheets. The bed was a queen sized double, with an elaborate headboard and a flat screen TV mounted on the wall opposite. Wherever she was, it was clear the owners of the house were well to do.

Her heart began to race as she heard the sound of the door opening, and then almost gasped as she saw Lewis dragging in another woman. She could only assume she was the owner of this place.

"Take off your clothes!" he heard her instructing the woman, the gun pointed directly at her. She tried to stifle the scream that she could feel building inside her. Was this his next move? Raping another woman in front of her?

"Lewis!" she yelled at him. "End this now, before it's too late!"

"Shut up!" he barked at her, approaching her yet again. "You," he said turning back to the older woman, the gun trained back on her. "Lie down on the bed!"

Olivia squeezed her eyes tightly shut as the now naked woman began to do as she was asked. Olivia could feel the terror coming off her in waves. Then she felt the sensation of a bottle being pressed to her lips and she moaned, dreading that it was more alcohol. To her surprise though she could taste water and she eagerly took a few gulps.

Then he withdrew and returned to his latest victim, where she was obediently lying on the bed.

"Open your eyes!" Lewis shouted at her, but she couldn't. She couldn't watch this. Besides, the dizziness was overwhelming. She felt like she was going to be sick.

Then she smelled the distinctive aroma of tobacco followed by a piercing scream. She opened her eyes instantly, just in time to see Lewis thrusting the lit end of a cigarette onto the woman's skin yet again.

"Every time you close your eyes, she will be burned!" he said coldly, the grin betraying his sadistic pleasure. Olivia knew he meant it. She watched horrified as he proceeded to tie the woman's limbs to the ends of the bed, trying to ignore the terrified whimpering and begging emanating from her lips, knowing there was nothing she could do to prevent this and hating that fact.

She tried to keep her eyes open. She truly did. But Lewis took his time with the woman, forcing her into several lewd acts. The pleading look in her eye as she suffered broke Olivia's heart. She had no idea who this woman was, but she knew she didn't deserve this. She was just an innocent victim whose house Lewis had for some reason decided to invade. She knew very well that his intent was to get to her and that it was his real purpose in tormenting this woman.

She tried to fight it, but it was a losing battle. The world was turning black at the edges. She briefly wondered if the water she had been given had been so innocent. Had he slipped more sleeping pills inside?

The last thing she heard as she slipped unconscious was the piercing scream of the woman once more, from the cigarette that Lewis had no doubt once again ruthlessly pressed into her flesh.