Elliot kept close to the wall, approaching the doors silently. Opening them slightly, he peered through, spotting White and Strathberge pushing Olivia and Casey towards a blue BMW.

They stopped at the trunk and Strathberge pulled out a set of keys, the sound of their jangling created a cacophony of echoes in the stillness of the garage. Slamming the key into the lock, he turned it, releasing a satisfied sigh as the trunk popped open. Looking at White, he motioned him to gather up Casey's still form.

Unsure of whether the men were armed, Elliot held back, trying to asses the situation. If he came out now, they could use Liv and Casey as a shield. If he waited till the women were placed in the trunk, he'd have a better chance at protecting them, but could also lose them if one of the perps got behind the wheel. Either decision was a risk, but the latter seemed a better bet. He waited for White and Strasberge to carry out the task.

Casey had been successfully deposited inside the trunk, her still form pushed towards the back to make room for their other precious cargo. White lifted Olivia with care, not wanting to cause injury till he could fully enjoy it; while she was awake. Once she was laid next to her blonde friend, White turned to Strasberge with a broad grin on his face. They were ready to go.

Elliot seized the moment, while the men were distracted, to catch them off guard. "Freeze assholes!" Elliot had burst through the double doors, his gun held in front of him, pointed in the direction of the two men.

White and Strasberge looked up, shocked at the appearance of Detective Stabler. White moved quickly, darting behind the car, while Strasberge reached into his coat for the gun he had lifted off a dead security guard.

Seeing Strasberge reach into his coat, Elliot opened fire, hitting him square in the chest. Strasberge's hand hit the cement floor and the gun skittered underneath the car. Strathberge clutched at his chest, blood ebbing its way out of the mortal wound he knew had severed his aorta. He would be dead in moments. His last thoughts were on how the Detective had gotten the drop on them; this wasn't part of the plan.

000000

Hearing the shot and Elliot's voice startled Olivia, who'd been preparing to launch out of the trunk with the tire iron clutched in her hands. Now all she could think about was who got shot. Was Elliot ok? The need to know was all consuming.

She slowly pushed the trunk open and spied Elliot approaching the car in a crouched stance. Spotting her, he motioned for her to get out of the trunk quickly. She turned to grab Casey, when she heard another shot. Looking back at Elliot, her scream caught in her throat, constricted by pure terror. Elliot was lying where he had fallen, a few feet from the car, blood seeping out of a wound she couldn't place.

Panic seized her and she rolled out and away from the car, running to Elliot's side. She searched for the source of the blood, which she found oozing from a hole in his right shoulder. Applying pressure, she couldn't stop the flood of tears escaping her eyes.

"El… Oh god El, stay with me sweetie. Please."

He looked up into her eyes, pain and fear a mixture of emotions upon his face. "Liv… Please… Behind you, White…"

Realization donned on her. Due to the hysteria of seeing Elliot bleeding on the ground, she had forgotten the basic math of the situation; someone had to have shot him. She could feel White behind her. A coldness passing through her body and her soul, a dull numbness that took away all feelings, all pain, except rage and determination. She would kill White for taking El away from her, and part of her hoped that she died in the process. The thought of heroics never came to mind, this was simple and pure, the oldest of rituals, she wanted revenge.

Stealing one final look at her handsome partner, his eyes closed, as if she had simply come to spy on his sleeping form in the crib. She turned to face her demon head on. His cold eyes alight with satisfaction, a smile spread across his jester-like face. A face she hated more than anything in the world.

Reaching behind her, she clasped Elliot's gun. In a flash of movement, she swung the barrel towards White, pulling the trigger, the gun aimed for his heart. The round went wild, nicking his right arm, as a bullet plowed through hers. The arm that had held Elliot's gun went limp as blood flowed from the wound. Her body spun around by the force of the impact, and suddenly she was lying beside El, which felt safe in that moment of chaos and pain. Losing track of time, of the world and of herself; all she saw was El's face. Feeling his still-warm body lying next to hers, all she could do was hold onto him. Preparing for the final shot and the blackness to follow, this felt right, dying with him.

The darkness never came, never engulfed her, and she felt another jolt of pain, as her head screamed from the pressure of White's hand dragging her by her hair. He never spoke, just pulled her towards the car. Shutting the trunk with Casey's motionless form still inside, he headed for the driver's side door.

Snapping out of her stupor, Olivia struggled against his grip. Finding her footing, she was able to land an elbow to his groin. The sudden shock of the impact left him stunned and she took her chance.

Landing a punch to the face and another to the gut, White staggered back and fell against the car. Knocking the gun from his hand, Olivia brought him to the ground with a knee to the face. White's still form lay near the door, as she nudged him with her foot. Looking around she spotted his gun and snatched it up, making her way towards the back of the car.

She quickly popped the trunk open and slipped the gun inside. Needing both hands free, she began to haul her friend from the back of the vehicle. The dead weight making it difficult, leaving her aching muscles exhausted and the wound in her arm throbbing.

Olivia finally managed to drag Casey completely from the trunk and away from the car, lying her down near a white van parked a few cars down.

Running back towards the open trunk, already weak from blood loss, she reached for the gun inside. It was gone.

Panic seized her as she spun around, just in time to see White crack the barrel against her temple. The blackness had once again won.