Blank
Jezyk
Spoilers: Anything through season 9 is fair game.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd still be writing and they'd still be getting paid. Doesn't sound so bad now, does it?
Chapter One
She could hear nothing beside the sound of her own breath, coming in hard pants. Her lungs were crying out for her to stop running, but she ignored them. She had no choice. Concentrating on her aching legs took her mind off her pained lungs. No matter what kind of shape she was in, a twenty minute sprint after a man with several inches on her took everything she had to give.
She would have happily abandoned her pursuit, turned her lead over to another detective for a few minutes while she recovered. But she'd lost Elliot at the last turn, several blocks back – the perp was a skinny, weasley, wiry sort of guy who'd shimmied through a chained fence just a second before Elliot would have caught him. Elliot was without question the faster of the partners, but Olivia was skinnier and had no trouble continuing the chase when Elliot looked for another way around, since the barbed wire prevented even his second choice of scaling it.
Olivia was also perfectly willing to forever give up any notion of fashion, swearing off ever wearing heels again, regardless of how Elliot would tower over her, provided her feet would stop screaming in pain with each pounding stride.
None of her physical pain really mattered, she reasoned. She'd be able to stop soon enough. She'd get a few gulps of air and have a nice long ride back to the precinct in the cruiser with her shoes off while she ignored Elliot's cracks about how jeans and sneakers were a much better choice.
She was only a few feet behind the perp, a disgusting, perverted, sicko with a penchant for handcuffs and toddlers. She even told herself it was better that she apprehend him than Elliot because Elliot's rage tended to get the better of him when kids were involved and she really wasn't in the mood to get a lecture about police brutality from Cragen.
She was in excellent shape, prided herself on being so, because of that very situation. Because deep down she resented that Elliot was taller and faster and stronger simply because he was a man. And she suspected that she would let a bit of that fury out on the perp as soon as she caught him. She was sure to catch him too, she knew, because after such a long, unforgiving pace, he'd darted into a building on the riverfront, a sure sign he was getting tired.
Her adrenaline would carry her through to the end, allowing her the last bit of strength to prevail when the creep's own strength would leave him.
She lifted her radio, breathlessly spitting out the best directions she could to Elliot and the uniforms who were trying to locate them. She could hear their sirens getting closer in response to her words as she slowed her steps. Her boots were nearly silent on the concrete when she crept through the door into the dark building. She knew she needed to be careful, following blind and without immediate backup. But he had only had a few seconds head start on her and she expected he would be looking to hide and recover from the run rather than start a fist fight with her.
She thought wrong.
For a moment it seemed the darkness of the warehouse suddenly reached out to grab her. It was in slow motion as she heard a rush of wind by her right ear. And then something big and hard and unyielding slammed into her head.
She didn't feel it when she hit the ground, but she knew she had. There was utter darkness around her, so complete that she couldn't even tell if her eyes were opened or closed. An unmerciful throbbing pain in her head brought tears to her eyes. Despite her wounded condition and the exhaustion, she tried to get her bearings.
She heard nothing. Nothing at all.
Nothing to tell her what was going on.
Nothing to tell her where she was.
She allowed herself a moment of silent panic, even hearing the sirens which revealed the police presence close by. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to scream. She was going to keep herself under control.
It was only a moment later when the darkness was invaded by sunlight. The volume of the sirens grew by leaps and bounds as the doors were propped opened by the uniformed officers. She watched them from her position on the floor as one of them turned to call to someone she couldn't see.
"She's here, Detective."
A moment later, the dark shadow filled the doorway. "Liv?"
She realized she should get up and started to lift herself off the ground. By the time she'd made it to her elbows, the shadow was beside her.
His hand settled against her back, helping her to a sitting position. "What happened?"
Shaking her head only made it hurt, she discovered. "Got hit with something." The wooden beam next to her appeared to be the culprit; the blood smeared along the side was the dead giveaway.
"Let's get you up." He turned away, motioning to one of the crowds of officers milling around. "Radio for a bus."
The younger man nodded. "Already done. They're on the way."
He turned back to her. "Need help?" His face was slightly suspicious when she nodded, but he offered his hands to her anyway.
She smiled gratefully, letting him support a good portion of her weight. "Thanks." Immediately on standing, she swayed a little.
"You ok there?" His hand pressed against her back, helping to steady her.
"I'm a little dizzy, actually. I'd like to sit down." She expected her words would be met with sympathy or support or at least agreement.
Instead, he stared at her. "What?"
"Never mind. It's ok." She went to take a step, found that it was more difficult than she'd expected, and reached out to grab hold of the closest officer.
But his hands closed around her waist, keeping her on her feet. "Hey, I've got you."
Irritated, but dependent on him to stand, she reluctantly tried to smile. "Thanks."
He led her to the steps by the door, lowering her to rest on the top one. "The bus'll be here in a minute, Liv." She looked at him to nod and his eyes caught on something. His hand grazed her chin, slowly reaching up to the side of her head. "Damn, he nailed you, didn't he?"
She winced when his fingers found what she knew was probably a nasty lump. "Apparently."
"It's probably just a concussion. We'll get you looked at and then get you home." He stayed beside her, his shoulder pressing against hers. "Ok?"
She nodded, knowing it was a lie. She felt guilty for it as soon as she did. He was being nice to her, taking care of her and she was repaying him by lying. Her face turned toward him, carefully studying his face until he turned to look at her. "Sorry."
He smiled, a warmth coming to his incredibly bright eyes. "For what?"
She met his stare, feeling a frightening unfamiliarity and emptiness when she did. "Who are you?"