36

Jeopardy

December 6

He was running as fast as he could, certain that it was purely adrenaline now carrying him forward at this pace. He liked to think he was fairly fit, for he still worked out and exercised fairly regularly. He knew he had probably slipped a little since leaving the force, but since he wouldn't be running after perps any longer, he hadn't been too concerned. He regretted not doing more. He couldn't help but feel that every second counted. He had to get to her. He had to find her. He couldn't bear the thought of her suffering any more and especially at the hands of Pat Miller, again. The way he was feeling right now, he wasn't sure that he would be able to stop himself from wrapping his hands around his throat if he ever ran into him.

His foot hit a rock and he almost stumbled as he tried to maintain his balance. He knew he couldn't carry on like this. He would have to slow down his pace a little. It was frustrating, acknowledging the limitations of his body. Where on earth was she? Surely he should be close now? Couldn't she hear him thundering down the path? All he could hear was the sound of his shoes smashing against the ground, the noise of his breath and the pounding of his heart in his ears. He had been hoping there might be someone. Someone who could say, oh yeah, she's just five minutes down the path. She's fine. But there was no one. Why hadn't she taken her phone with her? He knew the answer to that really: it was a hindrance having it weigh down your pocket as you ran. Neither of them had thought she would need it.

Once again his heart filled with dread at the thought of the impact it could have on her should Pat Miller actually get to her. He couldn't even imagine the fear and desperation she would feel, her nightmares becoming reality once again. What if he really did kill her this time? Surely he wouldn't straight away though? This guy was supposedly obsessed with her. Surely he would have other plans, at least at first. It was horrible to think about, but at least that would give him time to find her and rescue her. His biggest concern was her life. He needed her alive. He needed her in his life. Why had he let her out of his sight? He should have gone with her.

He wanted to yell for her, but he hardly had enough breath to run, let alone shout. He decided to concentrate on running. The sooner he reached her the better. Time was standing still. How long had he been running? He glanced quickly at his watch. Twenty minutes had past. Surely she must be close and he'd spot her at any moment? Every bend he turned, he hoped and hoped that she would appear before him. Every time she didn't he told himself it would be the next bend. Not finding her was not an option. It just wasn't.

He rounded the corner and saw it; the jetty. Shit, he had arrived. Where the hell was she? He couldn't see any sign of her. His stomach clenched. Had Miller got to her already? Had he killed her and thrown her into the lake? He stopped running and painfully stepped onto the jetty. He had to stay calm. He would look for signs of a struggle, blood, torn clothes, anything at all to suggest something had happened. A quick five minute sweep and he found absolutely nothing. It was as though no one had ever been here. The lake was calm, barely a ripple on its surface.

He felt completely demoralized. His mind had been racing with a plethora of horrible scenes he could possibly run into, but it hadn't occurred to him that he might find absolutely nothing. This was torture. He couldn't stand it. He knew he was starting to lose it. He needed to pull himself together and quickly.

He heard the sound of someone approaching and immediately he wondered if it was her, feeling the hope revitalise him. He looked towards the sound and his heart sank. It was a complete stranger. Then he realised the stranger was walking in the opposite direction from which he had come and once again he felt encouraged as he realised that this person could very well have seen her.

"Excuse me!" he said breathlessly. "Have you seen a woman running? She's wearing a grey and pink jogging suit with white sneakers. He took in the suspicious expression on the stranger's face and realised that he probably looked a complete mess. He was out of breath, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, which were hardly standard jogging attire and he was certain that his desperate pleas were probably coming across badly.

"It's OK," he said, forcing himself to speak a little more slowly, with hopefully less sheer emotion in his voice. "She's my girlfriend. Something important came up back home and I need to speak to her immediately. Look, here's a picture of us." Never had he been more appreciative of the convenience of modern technology. He quickly showed the man a picture of them together on his cell phone. It seemed to do the trick for the stranger's expression softened and he spoke.

"Ah, yes. I saw her about five minutes ago, running up the track." He pointed back in the direction he had come from. Elliot wondered if there had been some mistake. She had explicitly said she would go as far as the jetty then return. Had she changed her mind and decided to go on a little? How far was she planning to go?

"Thanks!" he said quickly, deciding that since she had a five minute head start on him, it would be best to get going as quick as possible.

"Liv!" he suddenly yelled. Maybe at just five minutes away she would hear him? He willed her to somehow sense him. Come on Liv, turn back.

He ran for another ten minutes before he came to a clearing on the side of the track with some tree stumps placed for joggers or walkers to use as a resting point. There was also a public toilet. As he neared the place he noticed the man standing just outside the ladies. Then he knew. It was him. Even with the cap and the coat collar pulled up, he still recognised him. His figure was etched into his memory. His heart sank. She must have slipped into the toilets and he was waiting outside for her. The bastard was within metres of her.

He remembered all of his promises to her. I'll never let him get near you again. You're safe now. He was overcome with fury at seeing that prick standing there in broad daylight. There was no way he would allow him to touch her. He would do anything to prevent that. He glanced around quickly for anything he could use as a weapon. There was nothing, not even a usable branch.

Quietly he approached the guy. It took all of his willpower not to scream out to her to lock herself in the toilets and not to come out until the police arrived.Where were they anyway? Cragen had said that they were supposed to be on their way. He couldn't give away his approach just yet though. He needed to be closer. The one thing he did have on his side was the surprise. It might just be enough to give him the edge. It had to be. Losing this fight was not an option.

He was so close. Almost there, then Miller suddenly spun around. He must have heard him. Damn.

"Liv!" he yelled. ""Lock yourself in. Don't come out. He's here!" Miller stared in surprise but he only paused for a matter of seconds before he pulled himself together and reacted. He suddenly lunged at Elliot. Elliot dodged him easily and managed to throw the first punch. Then the two men were embroiled in a true fistfight, with both throwing and receiving punches which bruised knuckles and drew blood. At one point Miller wrestled Elliot almost to the ground, but Elliot managed to kick him hard on the shin, causing Miller to temporarily lose his balance. Elliot used it to his advantage and kicked him again, this time aimed to the back of his legs. Miller fell to his knees and Elliot continued to pummel his upper body. During the course of the fight they had moved away from the toilet block slightly and just as Elliot was about to throw another large punch straight to the side of Miller's head, a figure appeared in the doorway. It was her. He looked straight at her and saw the look of absolute terror and horror in her eyes as she took in the sight of him fighting the man who had raped her and never ceased to torment her since.

He saw the tears streaming down her face. He saw the way her body had frozen. He knew she couldn't move. It was just the way she had described when talking to him about the rape. The reality before her was overwhelming. He could see she couldn't take it in, couldn't comprehend that Pat Miller was here, that he had come back for her and that the only thing between him and her was Elliot. He had to protect her. He had to prevent this bastard from ever getting near her again.

Seeing her appear before him, was too much of a distraction and Miller was ready. He reached down into his boot and withdrew the blade. Before he realised what was happening, Miller thrust the blade into Elliot's abdomen hard. Elliot gasped with shock as at first all he felt was the strange sensation of the blade penetrating him, followed by an excruciating agony, such that he had never experienced ever before in his life. He fell to the ground, still in disbelief that he had been stabbed. The knife had come from nowhere. It was still inside him. Miller had thrust so deep that it was buried up to the handle.

He was aware of the sound of screaming and he realised it was Olivia, but he wasn't really sure if it was real or whether it was just a horrible nightmare. He felt like he was in his own bubble. Things were happening around him, but all he could focus on was the pain and the awful sensation of having that knife inside him. He had placed his hands to his belly as soon as he had been hit. He withdrew them now, shocked at how much blood there was on them already. Somewhere inside his mind he recognised that this was not good. He was losing too much blood and too fast. He looked up towards her and he knew that the image of her standing there, sheer horror on her face would haunt him for as long as he lived... and given the amount of blood loss, he was certain that it wouldn't be long.

He watched as Miller turned towards Olivia and his mind screamed out. No. Leave her alone. But he was unable to speak. The pain was too overwhelming. He had to do something. He had promised to protect her. He couldn't let her down.

He watched as Miller stumbled towards her, realising he must have hurt him more than he had thought during their fight. Then his eyes returned to Olivia and for the first time he noticed that one of her hands was behind her back. He watched, fascinated and horrified as he saw her rooted to the spot as Miller approached her, reached out and touched her face. He saw her eyes wide with fear and he saw the one hand he was able to see visibly shaking. No, Olivia. I love you, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you.

Miller seemed to be moving in for a kiss. All Elliot could do was watch, crumpled on the ground as her rapist moved in once again, brushing his lips against hers. He was devastated. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This was so wrong. He barely felt the tear as it rolled down his cheek. He had failed her. The realisation was a pain almost worse than the physical pain he felt stabbing through his gut. The thought at her being raped again ripped at his heart. The thought of her having to endure it again while he watched as he lay dying beside her was too much to bear. He couldn't let this happen. He tried to crawl. He knew it was a futile attempt. He only managed to edge a tiny way forward. Then he saw her raise her arm. Suddenly there was the distinctive sound of something hard smashing into Miller's skull and he dropped to the ground. Elliot stared and realised that Olivia had been holding a brick behind her back and as Miller had kissed her and lost his concentration she had used it to her advantage and smashed the brick down on his head as hard as she could. Where she had found it, he had no idea.

Elliot felt a huge rush of pride and love as he realised that she had fought back. She had been petrified, yet she had still had the presence of mind to find something she could use as a weapon and then had waited for the most opportune moment. Miller had fallen to the ground seemingly unconscious. Elliot hoped he was dead and didn't feel a single shred of guilt for that thought. This sorry excuse for a human being was the epitome of what he considered truly evil.

He was starting to feel dizzy with the pain. This was overwhelming. It was worse than that time he had been shot while working undercover. He felt like he was losing the ability to focus. The only thing he could concentrate on was her and he was aware that she was moving towards him. If only he could hold her one more time. He needed to tell her how much he loved her. He hoped he could get the words out.

He felt her arms wrapping around him as she held him to her and he closed his eyes contentedly. If he had to die, then he was glad it would be in her arms at least.

"Elliot," she said shakily. He could hear the desperation in her voice. "Can you hear me? Stay with me Elliot."

He opened his eyes again. He saw the tears streaming down her face unabated and he felt a small twinge of guilt at what this was doing to her.

Then he felt the pain and pressure as she pressed down on his tummy, attempting to try and stop the bleeding. It was obviously difficult with the knife still lodged inside him. He groaned.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart. I have to do this though. I have to try and stop the bleeding."

I know.

"Elliot, how did you know Pat was here?"

He made as if to speak, but she saw him struggling and placed her hand to his mouth.

"Don't worry. You can tell me later. Just concentrate on staying awake, El! You can do this. You're going to be fine!"

He shook his head. This was bad. He couldn't deny it. He strongly doubted he was going to come through this one. He needed to tell her. He needed to know that she wouldn't give up.

"Liv," he managed to whisper.

"What is it?" she whispered back.

"I love you so much."

"I know, I know. I love you too."

"Liv, promise me. Promise me you won't give up."

"What?" She was terrified. What was he saying?

"You have to go on Liv. You have to live your life. Don't let what's happened here ruin it."

"No Elliot," she said realising what he was saying. "Don't you dare start saying goodbye! I won't let you leave me. You have to fight. You can't die. Please."

"I'm trying… it's just, it hurts so much. Liv, please promise me. Never give up."

"I won't, I promise. But you have to hold on. I'll get help. We'll get you to a hospital. You're going to be OK."

"Love…you," he managed to mouth one more time.

She realised he had lost consciousness. She held on to him tightly, telling him again and again that she loved him too. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't die. He couldn't. How could she possibly be expected to carry on living her life without him? He was everything to her. She needed him. He had to get through this. He couldn't die.