Chapter 3
CURRENT TIME
OLIVIA's POV
"Elliot, I need to talk to you." I say. My heart is pounding out of my chest. My stomach in knots from anxiety. "Can we stop for a minute? Please?" I request. Addison prescribed some anti-nausea medication to help with the morning sickness, that's really all-day sickness, but it of course doesn't help when it's anxiety induced and not pregnancy induced. If I end up throwing up, I don't want it to be in the car. The two of us combined don't make enough money to get the putrid smell of vomit out of the carpeted flooring of this vehicle. My mind wanders to the last time someone vomited in here, and it just makes the queasiness worse. She vomited repeatedly for over an hour while we were stuck in traffic, trying to transport her to the hospital. Turns out she had alcohol poisoning. I don't know how to start, how to make this conversation go any better. It hasn't even started yet, and I want to stop it. I can't make this go away though. I can't make this stop. It's only going to get worse the longer I wait. As he looks for somewhere to pull over, I feel the hot wave of shame wash over me, the same shame I felt all those years ago when my mother forced me into the clinic. I couldn't do it then. Why did I think things would turn out differently now that I'm older and wiser? How could I have been so brave then, to carry the baby to term, to give it up for adoption in a time when teen pregnancy was still highly shameful? How am I twenty-six years older and feeling like my entire world is falling apart around me? I realize that knowledge isn't necessarily power. I was very naïve as a child. I didn't know to be afraid, so I wasn't.
"What's going on, is everything alright?" Stabler asks.
"No." I admit. He had stopped the car in the parking lot of an empty playground. I recognize this place. We've brought his kids here a lot over the course of the time we've worked together. I unbuckle my seatbelt, and he his. We get out, leaning against the hood of the car, just watching the stillness, the emptiness of something that is normally full of life.
"Are you OK?" He demands.
"I went to see Addison today." I say carefully. "I wanted to discuss my options with her." I rock back and forth a little, hugging my arms around me tight, trying to soothe the anxiety as I find my words.
"Is there any thing I can do to help?" He asks, not hearing me clearly, I guess assuming that this was just me helping Addison out of another one of her 'less than admirable circumstances.'
"She did a scan, I'm fifteen weeks pregnant." The words escape my mouth before I even really realize what I'm saying. I didn't mean to say that. That's not how I wanted to start this conversation. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you this way, I just… I couldn't figure out anything better, and is there ever really a good way to share news like this anyway?" I ask, rambling. "Neither of us could have prevented this, Elliot."
"This can't be right." He says, turning towards me, looking just as mortified as I feel. "Are you absolutely sure?" I take the ultrasound from my bag and hand it to him, biting my inner cheeks to keep myself from completely breaking down at the helplessness of the situation. He is my partner, we have been through literal hell together, but I don't want to cry In front of him. Not now. "I thought you said you were four or five weeks." He comments. Pregnancy was not even on my radar. I thought I had the flu. He is the one who convinced me to take a test last week. Stood outside the bathroom door and everything.
"That's what I thought based off my period, last sexual partner, etc." I say. "Addison did the measurements. If she put me at 15 weeks, I'm 15 weeks. She's the best OBGYN in New York. I don't think this is something she would have messed up. She doesn't know what happened between us."
"Did you hide this from me?" He asks. "How could you have not known? Fifteen weeks Olivia?!"
"Elliot no, I just…" I start, but he cuts me off.
"What does discuss your options mean? Were you going to have an abortion?" He asks, and I can feel the pain in his voice. I'm sure he's thinking of his four little ones at home. How he brought them all into this world, watched them grow up, all the love they've shared over the years. I look down, anywhere but at him. "Olivia look at me." He begs.
"I didn't know Elliot." I say, slowly looking up at him, feeling awful. "I didn't know it was yours, I didn't miss my period until last week. I had no symptoms; you work with me every single day, you have four kids, and you didn't even notice anything was off until last week. Don't you think something would have been off if I was deliberately trying to hide a pregnancy?" I ask harshly. "You were there when I took the pregnancy test, you're the one who told me I'm pregnant." I remind him. I thought I was four- five weeks, because six weeks ago, I had several drunken sexual experiences with a guy named Eric, who was on his way out of town. He moved to LA to be a 'surfer boy.' Whatever that is.
"You're right, I'm sorry." He says, softening his tone. "This is just a lot to process right now."
"I'm sorry." I say, and I don't really know why. "I'm sorry you're still hurting."
"What I did to you is unforgiveable." He says, shaking his head. "I was undercover, things went too far."
"I don't care how this baby came into existence Elliot." I say. "You're my partner, you're one of my best friends. That night didn't change how I feel about you, and I respect you more than to make a life altering decision without talking to you about it first. We need to make a plan." Relief washes over his face, and then panic. I want to feel empathetic towards him, but I'm sure his level of panic is mild compared to the level of sheer terror I'm feeling right now.
"What the hell am I supposed to tell Kathy? What am I supposed to tell my kids?"
"I can't believe you haven't already told her what happened. We documented this…. Elliot, when you came back from working undercover, we filed a report to protect your ass, and your marriage incase anything like this happened. We both made statements. We signed documents and did the required six weeks of counseling with the shrink. There is video evidence. You did nothing wrong."
"Right." He says, shaking his head angrily. "Documents stating, we didn't feel the need to file sexual assault charges against one another. We signed the papers and did the sessions to prove that we're safe to continue working together as partners. It didn't go beyond that. We never told anyone beyond essential chain of command."
"I was ashamed. I should have said no. I should have protected you."
"You did protect me…." I say, and he looks down, he's crying. "If you wouldn't have done it, that sick freak was going to. You did what you had to do; you did what you could."
"I should be in Rikers."
"What?" I ask shocked. "Elliot, with Kathy you just…. Start with the truth. The kids, not so much, but you can work that out later."
"This isn't right, and now you're dealing with a pregnancy on top of everything else you're already dealing with. Would you believe that? Would you believe it if I told you, I raped my partner of seven years because some bad guys held a gun to our heads? Would you believe it if I said that my partner was dressed like a prostitute to check on me after they took my phone? You wouldn't believe that bullshit and neither will Kathy."
"Actually, given what we see every day I would probably believe that. I wouldn't start off with that though. Kathy is an innocent; she doesn't see the things that we see every day. You don't talk to her about your work. You've protected her from trauma we face daily all these years."
"Liv I'm so sorry." He says. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"You didn't hurt me." I say, reassuringly. "We were put into an impossible situation. It wasn't rape , Elliot, it just… It was just another shitty day at the job."
"So, let me get this straight." He says, raising his eyebrows at me. "You wanted to have a gun held to your head and forced to have sex with me while another sick bastard videotaped it for blackmail and internet porn?" He asks, facetiously. "I never knew you were such an adventure-er."
"First off, stop with the sarcasm, secondly you saved our lives." I say, trying to relieve him of guilt. "He was going to rape me in front of you and then kill us both. Would that have felt any better to you? We made a mutual decision under impossible circumstances. Our choices got us home safely to our families. Yes, it feels icky now, especially since we not have to face the consequences, but it got us home instead of six feet underground. It wasn't what we wanted, but we did the only thing we could have done to survive."
"What are we going to do now?" He asks. "What do you want to do? I understand it's your body, your choice, but I can't tell you what to do Liv…. I can't. I don't have to carry a baby for 40 weeks. I don't have to give birth or wake up in the middle of the nights for feedings or go to work exhausted every day. It would be unfair of me to say, either way. Even if we shared custody, to start you would be the one making all of the major sacrifices."
"I want the baby." I say quickly. I've been thinking about it all day, from the moment Addison told me I was fifteen weeks. I don't want him to have to worry about going against his religion, or not being able to watch his baby grow up. This isn't how I planned it, but it's the cards I was dealt, and there are always worse games to play. "This is not an ideal situation. Noah is only nine months old, but this isn't her fault. She had nothing to do with this situation that we found ourselves in."
"This is going to destroy my marriage." He says, sinking down into the driver's side seat, looking away from me. "Kathy is already on a warpath that we spend too much time together."
"Would you rather I not have told you, and she find out later when the baby comes out looking exactly like your kids? Your genetics are pretty dominate."
"That would have been worse." He agrees, sighing. "I'm just so sorry this happened, everything. If you want to keep the baby, I'm happy for you. I just wish that circumstances had been different. You shouldn't have to be traumatized to get a baby." He says, gently.
"Lucky for you I don't traumatize easily." I say, with a little smile, just as a call comes in over the radio for us to respond to.
"Noah… my sweet boy… who could that be knocking? Did you invite someone over?" I ask my baby boy, as I sit down the book we were reading while he finished his bottle. We were snuggling on the couch when the couch, reading "Goodnight Moon" when there was a nocking on the door, and the sound of crying mixed with the raging thunderstorm outside. I pick him up and walk to the door. We look out the peephole for a minute, but don't see anyone. The light is out. It usually goes out when it's storming and needed most. It takes a minute before she moves backwards so I can see her properly. Addison. I open the door quickly, ushering her in from the rain.
"I'm sorry." She exclaims, in full blown hysterics. She walks just far enough for the door to be able to close and then stops.
"No… Addison… it's fine… what are you doing? You're probably hypothermic. Come in." I say, moving aside and allowing her to come in further, but she stays standing on the little patch of hardwood floor next to the door. It's late August, but the weather has been extreme. Yesterday we had a high of 105 degrees, and tonight the storm brought in a cool front causing record lows. It was 50 degrees when I got off shift tonight. She's wearing her ratty college T-shirt, and no pants. I look down and her feet are bare. She's soaked to the bone from the rain and trembling with cold.
"I'm sorry." She repeats. "I didn't have anywhere else to go."
"I need you to tell me what happened."
"I can't tell you." She says, " This is not something I can talk to you about."
"You can talk to me about anything." I remind her. "Are we really keeping secrets after all we've been through?" I ask her jokingly, but I can't hide the sarcasm. She doesn't owe me this just because I trusted her with my issue. This just makes her cry harder. I can't help being harsh though, I've spent everyday since she turned up in the squad room working through the pictures, and the documents that she gave me recording her abuse over the last two years. She just…. The whole situation just makes me so sad. I want to save her, and I can't. "Let me get you some dry clothes, then we'll get you to the hospital." I say.
"I don't want to go to the hospital, and you can't take Noah out in this weather. He has a weak immune system, and asthma."
"I'll call Lucy." I say, dismissively. "How did you get here?" I ask her. "Lets go to the bedroom, you can dry off and warm up." I suggest, but she stays frozen in place. "What is it?" I finally ask her. "Why won't you come inside?"
"Your carpet… I … can't move… I'll ruin it…"
"So, I'll make you shampoo it later, it's ok, come on." I instruct her, taking her hand and leading her back to the bedroom, she follows me, like a small child. I tuck Noah into his crib to go back to sleep and get her a clean set of clothing from my drawers. She's smaller than me, and taller, but it's not like we haven't shared before. I think briefly of opening the boxes I put her clothing and personal items in to make space when I adopted Noah, but they're behind everything else in the closet from Noah's room, and she looks absolutely frigid. She goes to the in-suite bathroom, and dries off, pulling on the clothing I gave her, and then sitting down on the edge of my bed. I hand her a pair of socks and running shoes. She puts them on without argument.
"Thanks." She murmurs.
"Yeah, no problem."
"I walked."
"Excuse Me?"
"I walked here."
"Addison you live like fifteen miles from here. How did you walk, barefoot in a thunderstorm?"
"I'm going to hell, or jail, or both." She says, numbly, looking at me with those big blue eyes that make you just want to do something, anything to help fix the situation that makes her look so sad. "Sometimes you do what you have to do." She says, and I think back to the conversation with Elliot. You do what you have to do to survive.
"I would have come and got you." I say, sensibly.
"He took all the phones out of the house as well as my cell phone, and the computers. He locked them in a box in the basement. I don't have access, and I was afraid to go to the gas station or the corner store. They know him and would tell him I was there if asked."
"Addison…." I say slowly. "What did you do? What happened with you and Derek tonight?"
"I'm pretty sure I killed him." She says, so coldly and emotionlessly that I feel a shiver run up my spine. It scares me how she can go from completely hysterical to numb, or maybe the hysterics is other feelings breaking through the numbness breaking through after all this time. Common sense tells me she needs to stop talking, and call her lawyer, to protect her. I'm not thinking rationally though.
"I'm going to need you to be a little more specific than that, Addison." Her eyes are terrified, but her voice is cool.
"I dissolved three crushed up sleeping pills in his alcohol tonight, and then he took his regular dose." She says. "I don't know if that's enough to kill him, but now I can't stop thinking of him laying in the house somewhere dead or aspirating on his own vomit or something." She is talking so fast, and on the last word, emotion is back, and she cries again. "What have I done?"
"I'm not even a doctor and I know not to mix alcohol and sleeping pills." I say, praying he isn't dead, and she doesn't have to talk her way out of this in court.
"You try telling him that, he's the neurologist. I'm a baby doctor, babies don't drink alcohol, and neither do most pregnant women." She says. I sit down on the bed next to her, collecting my thoughts. She does have a way of making my life more interesting in every single way possible that I don't want. I don't want to know this information. I don't want to have to testify against her in court. She looks so fragile, a victim of very cruel circumstances. I make up my mind and take out my cell phone, typing 911 into the key pad, before looking at her sadly.
"It's going to be fine." I say, as calmly as someone whose just heard news like the is possibly can. It's four am and I am already exhausted from this roller coaster of a day. I just want to take the day off work tomorrow. I want to fall back into my bed and sleep for hours and hours uninterrupted. "I am going to call 911 to have someone do a welfare check on him. If anyone asks you say you left after he hurt you, and then threatened to kill himself." Her bottom lip is trembling, but she nods.
"Won't he know where I am if you call?"
"I'm sure he already knows where you are. He's cruel and manipulative, but he is pretty smart."
"You're right…" She agrees reluctantly, and I make the call to request a welfare check. I give him his height, weight, appearance, the pills he took, influence of alcohol, name, address, and telephone number before the dispatcher asked me if there is anything else I would like to report. I look at Addison and she shakes her head, miserably. So, I just give the dispatcher my phone number, and ask her to pass it on to the officer so we can get an update. She says that she will do that, and the officers are arriving on scene as we speak. I thank her and hang up the phone.
"See that wasn't so bad." I say, but I realize I'm trembling, while she's sitting there with tears silently streaming down her face, cool as a cucumber.
"You're not used to this." She observes.
"I've been your best friend for fifteen years. I thought we were ride or die. How could I not be used to this, by now?" I say lightly, rolling my eyes a little, but trying not to make her feel too badly. It wasn't always bad. In the beginning they had a loving relationship like anyone else. Or at least I thought they did. Maybe Addison was just better at making me believe what she wanted me to believe back then, and the separation when she vanished has helped me to step back, to see things more clearly.
"I'm sorry…. I didn't mean to be here, I just meant to leave and…I don't know. I just need somewhere safe to sleep."
"Baby you can't go to sleep right now you have to stay awake." I say, not sure if she has sustained head trauma.
"I'm so tired."
"It's OK, you're going to be OK." I say soothingly. "Did he hurt you?" I ask her, and she nods, but doesn't say anything else. "OK, we'll wait, let's just wait and see how bad this is before we do anything else. They'll call me back." I assure her. "Just talk to me to ignore the tired, ok? I need you to stay awake until we can get you checked out."
"What's going to happen if I go to jail?"
"You won't." I say firmly.
"I might."
"You won't. I'll protect you, no matter what." I promise.
"You can't protect me from everything. We already know that. I'm self-destructive." She says, quoting my word from a previously argument.
"I didn't mean that Addison. You're in a bad situation. We need to worry about getting you out of that before something worse happens." I can't think of anything that's much worse than living with someone who beats you, losing a baby, nearly dying, and whatever happened to make her feel some sort of way that she thought poisoning him was her only option out I am sure there is something though. My phone rings, causing us both to jump.
' Detective Benson.'
'This is Officer Milzona with the NYPD, we did a welfare check on your attempted suicide and we were able to get to him in time. He is currently receiving treatment at Mount Sinai hospital if you need to question him. The doctor is expecting him to make a full recovery.' He says.
'Thank you for this information officer.'
'Anytime.' He says and hangs up the phone.
I turn to Addison, actually laughing from relief."Well, we've just determined that you, had a very lucky night. He's fine, expected to make a full recovery. You may still have to go to court if he can prove you spiked his drink, but at least no one actually died." I say, optimistically, looking over to Noah who had fallen asleep in his crib.
"Olivia I—" She stands up slowly, walking back towards the bathroom and half falls, half sinks down onto the ground just as she begins coughing, and crimson blood fills the toilet. Her eyes swell with fear as she looks into the bowl, each time she vomits, and it fills a little higher with blood. I sit on the floor next to her, rubbing her back, and holding her long hair out of the way. When the vomiting stops, she wipes her mouth and her hands with a baby wipe and flushes the toilet. I look at her, a bit in awe. Isn't that exactly like Addison? Puking up blood and still manages to keep her clothing clean. "I'm fine." She says carefully, she's so pale. Her heavy makeup washed off earlier by the rain, but I didn't realize just how unwell she looks until this moment. "It's ok." She tries to assure me, I must look particularly upset, because she adds "I'm sorry I scared you, this happens all the time."
"We have one of two options I can see here." I say, kneeling in front of her. "Option one, I call Lucy and I take you to the hospital. Option 2, I wait until you pass out and then call 9-1-1 to take you to the hospital so you don't die in my car. Your choice."
"I said I'm fine, Olivia."
"Ok… I love you, and all of your "I'm fineness" but I would really appreciate it if you didn't die in my house either, I tend to like you better alive." I say, taking out the phone and quickly calling Lucy anyway. She says she'll be here in twenty.
"You're being overly dramatic Olivia." She says when I hang up the phone. I sigh, looking down at her laying weakly against the bathtub. "Please just relax and stop fussing over me."
"I'm being dramatic?" I ask. "How would you react if the roles were reversed?" I ask her.
"I have to leave, I shouldn't be here, you're pregnant and stress isn't good for the baby."
"You're being here is the least of my worries." I say, sitting down beside her. "What did he do this time?"
"Nothing." She says quietly, looking down at her hands. "I just left."
"You never 'just leave' ." I say, shaking my head. "We're going to find out now, or we'll find out at the hospital, but either way it's nothing I haven't seen before. You don't have to be scared, or ashamed. It's just me Addison." I say, an attempt at comfort, but not really doing an adequate job at it.
"I'm fine." She says again. "Nobody did anything to me Olivia, I just wanted to leave." She says, taking back her answer of 'yes' when I asked if Derek hurt her.
"Why don't I believe that?" I ask her, but she is sitting so still staring at me with those glossed over sad eyes. I hate it when she does this. I can't resist helping her. She's like a little lost hurt puppy with big sad eyes. She doesn't even know she's doing it.
"You never believe anything I say."
"That's what happens when some you love, someone you're trying to help lies to you, constantly. I've learned to just expect the worst. " I respond, crossly.
"I'm sorry." She murmurs.
"STOP saying you're sorry! You're not sorry!" I explode. "If you were sorry, you never would have went back to him, we wouldn't still be playing this game with your life this many years later. I wouldn't have almost lost you." I add the last bit quieter, flashing back to finding her on the floor the day she lost Zachary. To sitting next to her hospital bed, not even religious, but praying that she would pull through, that she would finally realize that this isn't normal and leave. Of course, she didn't, but she never does. I thought her baby would change things. She jumped when I first raised my voice and moves away from me, making herself as small as humanly possible in the corner and moving her arms up, pressing her wrists tightly against her ears. Instantly I am filled with remorse.
"Addie-"
"I'm fine." She says, but she is rocking back and forth, head resting on her knees which are pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them tightly. She's rocking back and forth slightly, and I can see her body quiver with every sob she tries, and fails to hold in.
"Addie, I'm sorry I didn't mean to shout." I say, moving towards her, I wrap my arms around her holding her gently. She tries to move away, but either she's not very strong or really isn't trying, because she stays and I hold her, stroking her har, repeating "it's ok, I'm sorry" over and over again until I feel her takes several deep breaths and relax. "I'm not angry with you, sweetheart I'm just concerned." We sit in silence, and she continues to let me hold her until I hear Lucy come inside.
"We're in the bathroom!" I call, and Lucy appears in the doorway, looking tried, but at least mostly dry.
"Sorry it took so long, it's raining cats and dogs out there, and the taxi took a while."
"It's fine." I say, and then look over to Addison. "I'm not sure what time I'll be home, I am going to take Addison to the ER, and stay with her for a while."
"Okay, I know the drill." Lucy responds, taking a drink of coffee from her refillable mug. "Noah will be fine, is he sleeping in your room? I might be able to get some of my coursework done before he wakes up." She says, patting her laptop bag. "I have a 10,000-word essay to complete before next week." She says, rolling her eyes at me. She loves being a college student, but full-blown hates writing essays.
"That's great Lucy…. Just don't forget to keep the door locked, please don't leave the house for any reason unless you call and check with me first."
"Of course. Whatever is best for Noah."
"Thanks…." I say genuinely.
"This is his wife? The mans?" She asks, as if Addison isn't sitting right there, I look over at Addison, who shrugs like how it could possibly matter.
"I'm Addison." She says, slowly.
"Lucy look at me." I say, and she does. "Addison's going to be staying here for a little while, but you can't tell anyone she's here, OK? I need to get her to the hospital, we can talk more about this later, but Lucy, it's important."
"I understand." She says, and then looks over to Addison. "Your secret's safe with me. It's going to be Okay."
Authors Note: Thank you to everyone who is reading Rewrite the Stars. I had to stop this here because it was already too long, and I wouldn't have been able to finish this chapter where I wanted to finish it without going over even further over my word limit. Chapter 4 will pick up where this left off. Please review and let me know what you think! I love reading reviews : ) .