T Minus 3 Days, cont'd

T Minus 3 Days, cont'd

It took his breath away. All of it. The pained look on her face. The rage on his. The fact that he'd just been forced into an interrogation room by his boss. The idea that he was there because someone thought he was physically abusive toward Olivia

Most of all, the pure and simple fact that he had no recollection of it.

His mouth fell open as he reached up, taking the picture out of Cragen's hands, lowering it until his forearms rested on the table. He was staring at it, trying to understand. There was nothing else he could do.

"What the hell is this, Elliot?" Cragen's voice was hard and cold.

Elliot raised his eyebrows, looking up at Cragen, shaking his head and shrugging at the same time. He wasn't sure he could speak, even if he came up with anything to say.

Cragen turned away, mumbling quietly to Lake, who left a moment later, closing the door behind him. Taking a seat on the other side of the corner, the captain's eyes fixed on Elliot's downturned face. "You'd better start talking." Still, he didn't get an answer. "Is this your way of asking for a lawyer?"

A moment later, Elliot's head jerked to the side, surprise making him drop the picture out of his grasp as his hand moved up to cover the spot Cragen had just hit. He already had a black eye. A nice bruise on his cheek might help even things out.

Cragen's hands were at his collar, pulling so tight on his shirt that Elliot started to choke. "What the hell is wrong with you? Say something, damn it!"

Dazed, Elliot tried to speak, only to wind up shrugging again.

Cragen shoved him back, taking a moment to gather up the other pictures, hiding the evidence from Elliot's eyes. He slowly neatened the stack, finally taking the one horrific photo and laying it on the table in front of Elliot. "Is there something you want to tell me? Like how long this has been going on? Like how involved the two of you really are? Like where the hell you got the idea you could get away with this?"

Infuriated by Elliot's silence, Cragen was on his feet, moving behind the younger man, pushing his shoulders forward and down until his face was an inch away from the picture. "You'd better start talking, you son of a bitch, or I swear to god I'll shoot you right here." Elliot still didn't say anything, leaving Cragen to grow tired of holding him down. He opened the door, calling out into the bull pen. "Munch, get Huang down here."

Munch's perpetually questioning voice called back. "At this hour?"

"Now!" Cragen's bark was so loud that no one would dare question it.

Fear shot through Elliot, realizing what would happen if Huang was confronted with evidence that Elliot had hit Olivia. Huang might break privilege and turn Elliot in for the assault he'd confessed to, regardless of how it had seemed to be worked out in the end. Maybe he'd been wrong about what had happened in the crib. Maybe she'd kissed him because she was scared that he'd hurt her. Maybe that kiss didn't mean that she was ok with what had happened. He swallowed hard, reaching out to touch the picture to make sure it was real, knowing he'd never get that image out of his head even if it wasn't.

"I didn't hit her." His voice was so soft and quiet that he didn't even recognize it.

"Like fucking hell you didn't. That's a god damn photograph of you doing just that!" Cragen was pacing the room, probably starting to consider how the whole mess would wind up being his fault and ending his career once and for all for the screw-ups that made up his squad.

Elliot threw the picture down, pushing it as far away from him as he could. "I didn't hit her." He stopped to sniffle, only realizing then that he was crying. "I don't remember it."

Cragen's pacing stopped with one foot in the air. He'd heard a lot of excuses through the years, a lot of ways to rationalize breaking one law or another. Most people swore they didn't do it, lying, concocting alibis if they needed to. Some people confessed. Some people played games. Few people tried to pretend they couldn't remember doing it.

Cragen didn't buy it, no matter how convincingly Elliot was playing it. He sat down in his chair, pushing the picture back in front of Elliot because it was so obvious how much Elliot didn't want to look at it. "How many times don't you remember hitting her?"

He looked up, meeting Cragen's eyes with sheer horror on his face. "I don't know." He looked around, desperate for some guidance, something to help him, but he found nothing. "I'd kill myself if I hit her. I know I've grabbed her arm to stop her from walking away from me, but I swear I've never hit her."

Cragen picked up the picture, holding it in Elliot's face again. "You did fucking hit her. Now I want to know how many god damn times you decided it was ok to beat up your partner. Your female partner who is half your size and would fucking kill anyone who dared to look at you the wrong way."

He shook his head, his chin trembling, his voice warping as it twisted around his sob. "I swear I didn't – I couldn't, cap, I couldn't hurt her like that."

Cragen leaned down, fury radiating off his body as he got in Elliot's face. "That woman loves you, you stupid asshole! She really fucking believes you can do no wrong and you hit her! How many times have you done that to her?" His hand reached out, grabbing Elliot's collar to shake him again. "How much worse has it gotten, Elliot? How far have you gone? What else have you done to her?"

Elliot's angry face seemed to be mocking him as it stared back from the photo, proving to him and everyone how much of a two-faced bastard he really was. He shoved his chair back from the table, watching in horror when Cragen did the same, jumping back in fear of a physical assault. His wife had divorced him, his coworkers had turned against him, his boss didn't trust him, his partner was gone, and he'd never be allowed to see his kids again when the lawyers caught wind of the idea that he beat Olivia. He had nothing left. Nothing at all. He backed into the corner, sliding down the wall until he was on the floor, shaking his head at the appalling, dark images inside.

Could he be that guy? The guy that hit someone he cared about? The guy that scared his partner into doing whatever he wanted? The guy that bruised Olivia's soft skin? The guy who'd grown bored with just smacking her around and graduated to raping the woman he loved so much? The guy he'd never thought he could become?

Elliot started to shake at the notion that he'd actually become his father. The abusive, furious man who used his fists to expel his self-hatred and hurt the people who loved him most.

He sat there shaking for a long time, until it felt like forever had come and gone before he thought of it. His salvation. The steel piece of salvation strapped to his belt. He felt the gun at his hip and wondered if he'd have enough time to kill himself before Cragen could wrestle it away from him. Luckily, George Huang had impeccable timing.

Huang's mind reading skills were typically intact as well, his quiet voice cutting through the screaming noise in Elliot's ears. "Elliot, give me your weapon."

He couldn't do it. He couldn't touch it. If he dared reach for it, he'd lose the tenuous control he still had. Looking up at Huang, seeing the way Lake and Cragen were bringing him up to speed, yet somehow unable to hear their voices, Elliot shook his head.

Huang held up his hand, silencing those talking to him, trying to engage the one who wasn't. He stepped forward, squatting down to put himself closer to Elliot's level. "Elliot, I don't think you want to hurt anyone. Do you?"

Unashamed of the tears on his face, he looked up again and shook his head. He could see Munch and Fin crowded into the doorway, trying to figure out what was going on. He turned away, asking himself once again if he had the strength to end it. Sin or not, if he was hurting Olivia and she was unable to stop him, it might be better to kill himself than to let the abuse continue.

"Then why won't you give me your gun, Elliot? If you don't want to hurt someone." Huang's voice continued to be understanding and gentle, but while Elliot wasn't looking, he turned to glare at the others. He would have thought they knew better, he would have thought it standard procedure to disarm someone before they went about destroying his psyche.

Elliot's eyes locked on a spot on the far side of the room, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "I might need it." His honesty caused an exchange of concerned looks among the group, but Elliot remained ignorant of them.

"Why would you need it?"

His head turned back, facing Huang straight on, the pain in his eyes choking everyone in the room. "If I hurt her, if I did that to her-" His voice choked up and he had to take a moment to find his voice again. "I won't let it happen again. I won't hurt her again."

Huang nodded, happy that he was at least getting Elliot to speak, which Cragen had reported he'd had problems with. "That's good, Elliot. You don't want to hurt Olivia. That's a good promise to make." He smiled, his understanding of the situation greater because of the way Elliot had confided in him. "But you don't need a gun to make that promise."

"But I don't remember it." His eyes were wide, fearful of what he was able to do, fearful of the lows he was capable of reaching without even knowing it. "How can I promise not to do it when I don't remember doing it in the first place?"

"Because Olivia trusts you. If you promise her that you won't hurt her, you'll have to keep your word because she'll believe you. You trust her, right?"

The words brought a fresh wave of tears to spill down his face as he shook his head. "She trusts me and I'm a bastard. She shouldn't trust me."

"But you trust her judgment, don't you Elliot?" Huang didn't need to wait for a nod, he knew it was true. "And if she thinks you're worthy of trust, then you must be, right?"

Elliot turned back, finding Huang's eyes once again. "If I hurt her like that, if I hit her, I'll kill myself."

Huang's eyes widened, recognizing that the situation was so very serious that Elliot really was completely sure of his decision. He leaned in, trying to keep his face neutral and not reveal his fear that Elliot wasn't going to be able to pull himself back from the edge. "Do you think that's what Olivia wants?"

"She hasn't turned me in for hitting her. She's not really reliable when it comes to me." There was some part of him that knew what Huang was doing, recognized that his goal was simply to keep everyone in the room alive. But Huang didn't understand that Elliot wouldn't be able to live with himself. He would never understand that Olivia would be better off if Elliot couldn't hurt her. Huang always thought things could be resolved. Elliot wished he could be that naïve.

Realizing that Elliot was determined that his choice was right, Huang changed tactics. "Do you think I deserve to die?"

Confused Elliot glanced at him. "I'm not going to shoot anyone but myself."

"I trust you." Huang saw the flash of surprise he expected on Elliot's face. "But I didn't ask if you were going to hurt me. I asked if you think I deserve to die."

Elliot shook his head. "You only try to help people." Even when they weren't worthy of help, like himself, Huang always tried to help them.

Huang shifted to a sitting position in front of Elliot, moving his legs to get the circulation to return to them. "So you wouldn't want to be responsible for my death, right?"

"No." Elliot closed his eyes, exhaustion creeping up as annoyance. He'd been up too many hours. He'd been under too much stress. He just didn't have the energy for mind games. But on the off chance that it wasn't a game, Elliot couldn't deal with the idea of more guilt.

"And when we find Olivia and she hears that I let you shoot yourself in the head, what exactly do you think she'll do to me?" Huang asked with a smile, knowing he was no match for Olivia in a fight.

But Elliot wasn't in the mood for a joke or for comfort. "Then I guess I'll see you in hell."

There was a commotion coming from the group gathered at the door, which Elliot still only vaguely realized was there. Fin had his partner face-first into the wall with his left arm twisted around behind his back. Lake was cursing up a storm for having been bested. Munch's eyes were darting back and forth between the pair in front of him and the pair on the floor, unsure which was most likely to erupt into something even more explosive than suicide threats and fist fights. Cragen was staring at Fin, appearing too tired to even feel concern.

"What the hell did you do?" Fin was supporting himself on Lake's arm, causing Lake no end of discomfort.

"I didn't do shit." He continued to struggle, but he was pinned.

"Elliot knew you were up to something. He asked where you were." Fin pushed harder, forcing a groan out of Lake's mouth. "I told you to stay out of shit that didn't concern you. And he finds you here convincing the cap he's a fucking wife-beater."

Lake, as usual, missed the point. "I didn't say shit about his wife!"

Enraged, Fin shoved Lake to the side, barely noticing that his partner was on the ground. His temper turned on Cragen. "This isn't right. Elliot wouldn't do that. Look at him! There must be some other explanation."

Cragen didn't know what to do. He had one detective missing, another threatening to kill himself, an FBI agent who suspected there was about to be a price on his head, and two other detectives at each other's throats. The term 'failure to supervise' suddenly seemed terribly obvious relating to his inability to realize how close his team was to breaking down. He shook his head at Fin. "I don't know what to tell you." He pulled the picture from the table, noticing as he did so that his knuckles were bruised. He was ashamed of himself for having decked Elliot, called for or not, he'd always expected more from himself, but he was no better than the rest of them, all wound up too tight after too many years of dealing with horrible crimes. "Here, see for yourself."

Fin looked at the picture with Munch leaning in to see it as well. Munch was suitably horrified, but Fin was clearly refusing to accept it. The wheels were turning, searching for some kind of way to make it ok. He shook his head. "Maybe he was demonstrating something or-"

Munch gestured at the picture, angry at himself for not turning Elliot in when he'd seen them in the crib. He could only imagine what he might have prevented. "If he were demonstrating something, she wouldn't be trying to duck and she sure as hell would be looking at him."

Fin kept shaking his head. "Mackey was taking pictures every few seconds. Where are the rest of the shots? There have to be more."

Munch threw his hands in the air. "What the hell are you thinking defending him? You see it right there. We all know his tantrums. We all know he loses control. How can you really think, with the way Olivia challenges him, that he doesn't go after her?"

Fin looked positively insulted, his hands reaching out to shove the taller man. "You seriously think Olivia's going to put up with that shit for a man? From Elliot? Fuck, you dumbass, she'd shoot him in the balls. She'd shoot you in the balls for suggesting it. She's stronger than that."

Lake had climbed to his feet, watching while Fin and Munch were arguing. When it appeared that Munch wasn't going to fight back, Lake took the opportunity to jump back in. "Why are you protecting him? Maybe Elliot has something on you? You got a dirty little secret he's covering up?"

Fin had barely turned around to face his partner when Lake's arm swung out. He dodged the blow, rearing his arm back to return fire. "You better get the hell away from me, you ass-kissing little piece of shit!"

Cragen reached out, trying to break them apart. His whole precinct was going to be having a brawl by the time dawn rolled around. And at that moment, all he wanted to do was write up his resignation and get the hell out of dodge. "All right, that's it!"

He shoved both Lake and Fin, hoping that the upset to their balance would stop them from hitting each other for the moment. "Lake, go home. Take a few hours off. Just get the hell out of my face. Munch, go home, go to the crib, just go do something besides standing here and declaring you knew it was coming." With two of the pissy men heading out of the room, Cragen turned to Fin. "If there are more pictures, find them. I don't care if they support your theory or crucify Elliot. Just find me some god damn piece of proof of whatever the fuck happened."

Fin stared, his adrenaline pumping too hard for sorting photographs, but he slowly nodded. "Yeah, ok, good idea. I'm on it."

Cragen turned his attention back to Elliot and Huang. Huang had yet to get the gun from Elliot, but it was somewhat consoling to see that the gun was still safely secured at Elliot's hip, rather than in his hand. There was only silence in the room, so Cragen broke it quietly. "George, can I speak with you?"

He nodded, looking at Elliot for a moment. "I'm going to talk to Don. Just don't do anything rash while I'm out, ok?"

Elliot's face, still awash with tears, slowly bobbed up and down as he nodded. The only thing he was holding onto at that moment was that regardless of how awful he might have been to her, Olivia would still be upset if he were dead when she was found. And he didn't want to cause her that pain on top of everything else.

Cragen shifted over to the one-way mirror, keeping an eye on Elliot as Huang closed the door. "I missed the last few minutes. How's it going in there?"

Huang hesitated, taking the time to choose his words carefully. "He's truly distraught over this idea. The idea of hitting Olivia is so abhorrent to him-"

"Do you think he did it?" Cragen wasn't really interested in getting Elliot counseling. He was just trying to figure out if whatever was going on was fixable.

"People are capable of anything, especially when they have decided violent tendencies, but I can't tell for sure. I don't think he's lying when he says he doesn't remember it." Huang's eyes slowly traced over Elliot's slumped form in the corner. "It's possible he lost control and was so upset by what he did that he blocked it out. That could explain why he's breaking down like this. He's being confronted with evidence of something he made himself forget."

Cragen closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. Even knowing it was too much to ask for, he'd desperately wanted Huang to assure him that Elliot had absolutely not hit Olivia. "So you think it's possible."

Huang bit his lip, recalling Elliot's confession of loving Olivia, remembering the way he'd thought he'd raped her. He could almost see the relief in Elliot's eyes when he realized that he hadn't hurt her. Taking a breath, he shrugged. "Technically, it's possible that he's a serial killer we've never caught on to." When Cragen's eyes narrowed, Huang smiled. "Anything's possible, Don, but I really don't think he hit her. It's not really a matter of losing control or anger. He'd have to want to hit her, he'd have to want to hurt her. And only then, it would be a matter of him losing control. But I don't see that in him. I don't think he'd ever want to hurt her."

Feeling somewhat comforted, Cragen let out the breath he was holding. "Fin's working on finding more pictures of that argument, hopefully to show us what happened."

Huang nodded. "Ok." He motioned at Elliot, who hadn't moved a muscle. "I'm going to stay in there and talk to him. Let me know if you find something, as soon as possible if it can prove he didn't hit her.

"Will do." He managed a tight smile at the only man he dealt with on a regular basis who seemed able to hold himself together in a crisis. "And then I'm going to insist all of my detectives have round the clock counseling sessions with you."

Huang chuckled. "If I survive facing Elliot in this state, I'm going to cut my losses and retire to the Caribbean."

With a rueful laugh, Cragen headed back to the bullpen to help Fin. "You and me both."