Strip lighting lent the noisy corridor an air of eerie
otherworldliness - a sickly light that reflected so well the function of
the structure. It gave everyone's skin an unhealthy, slick sheen. Olivia
was no different, though her already ghostly pallor didn't help. It was
busy, bustling, noisy, yet also oddly quiet - like everything was around,
yet also far away at the same time. She swallowed and let her head fall
tiredly into her hands. The events of the day had taken their toll on her
body, and the time was catching up on her.
Olivia checked her watch - an inexpensive steel-framed affair, with a simple black leather strap. There was no point in wearing anything expensive to work, that much she had learnt during her years as a cop. Her mouth gaped open in an involuntary yawn, a sign that she really did need some rest, but she suppressed it. Ignored it.
"Olivia?" The soft voice made her jump nearly out of her seat, but a gentle hand on her shoulder proved a calming influence. It was Munch.
She smiled. "Hey."
"He OK?" Fin asked brusquely. He cared, he really did, but he liked to get quickly to the point. Olivia found herself appreciating it. But that didn't change her answer.
"I don't know - they haven't come back to me yet."
The two men said nothing, but slumped down in chairs either side of her, a protective gesture that did not go unnoticed by anyone. They fixed gazes on the featureless, yellowy-green painted wall, trying not to think too much. Olivia returned to her former, hunched position, her eyes focused on a dried piece of chewing gum on the floor - for no other reason than that it was there. It had formed an almost perfect oval shape, although it bore the marks of someone's shoes. The analytical part of Olivia's mind thought they might have been trainers. Large trainers.
Munch was first to notice the arrival of their captain, who was striding down the hallway at some pace. He looked worried, but a little angry too. Evidently he'd heard a few things, and wanted to hear it all. Cragen caught his detective's warning look, and cooled a little. He sat on the opposite side of the hallway, and tried to catch Olivia's eye.
She noticed him and sighed. "The doctors haven't told us anything yet. I don't think its too serious..." Her voice trailed off sounding forlorn.
"Good. What the hell happened?" His voice was suddenly stern, but not harsh.
"We went to Ricky's Autoshop to talk to Raymond Ziegler." Olivia said, her voice suddenly stronger as she found a steady area of conversation.
"The place with the burnt-out Lincoln in front." Fin said knowledgeably.
She nodded, and explained how they'd been lead there via Evie's information. She explained how the owner had been....unpleasant, but had allowed them to talk to Ziegler. And, reluctantly, she explained how she had felt on seeing the man. His two-sided personality, that shone through with honesty, if nothing else. He had been helpful at first, if a little dubious about their presence. Nothing that they hadn't encountered a million and one times before.
"And then?" Cragen asked, knowing full well he wasn't going to like what came next.
Olivia scratched her neck absent-mindedly and began to relate the tale of how it had gone wrong. "Well - Elliot started getting a little....uh..."
"Aggressive?" Munch said. His lined face wore a sympathetic expression.
She nodded. "Yeah, a little aggressive. He started accusing Ziegler of murdering Holli Griffin, implied he knew Ziegler had hit Evie."
"Had he?" Cragen asked with sudden interest. "Record of violence..."
Olivia shook her head. "Yeah I can't see him for the Griffin murder. He genuinely seemed surprised she was dead, genuinely surprised why we were there."
Just then the arrival of a man who looked far too young for his profession, a baby-faced junior doctor, disturbed the conversation. He dithered momentarily on the edge of the group before Cragen put him at ease by asking simply how his detective was doing.
"Uh- he's -uh- gonna be fine. Nasty bruise on his head, a couple of stitches, and a hell of a headache, but otherwise he's OK." The doctor smiled nervously. "Oh," he said, realising what else they were waiting for, "you can go in. Not too long."
As the doctor scuttled away, Cragen stood. He looked directly at Fin and Munch , and explained that despite the day's events, he expected them to follow up what they had been working on. They could see Stabler, briefly, but then they were to go back to the office and finish up. Neither of them objected. They knew what was necessary.
The trio entered the hospital room, gingerly pushing open the swing door and filing in one by one. Olivia went first, Cragen second, then Munch, and finally Fin. They stood anxiously behind the curtain, and waited for the nurse to draw it. She pulled the faded, patched, flowery material in a big bunch and tied it so the detectives could sit by the bed undisturbed by fabric.
He looked very pale, and there was a large piece of bandage taped on his forehead. Very pale. Olivia suddenly felt sick, and almost fell into the chair closest to him. She heard the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor, and assumed (correctly) that the others were also making themselves comfortable. He hadn't moved. Not an inch. Her heart was beating way too fast, and her brain was running through all the things that could have happened in that garage. His eyes opened, a flicker of the lids, then blue. She sighed with relief.
Elliot winced. His head felt like it was about to explode. A million shards hitting the inside of his skull, and boy did it hurt. His sight was pretty clear, but the light was painful. He was glad to see Olivia there, although he'd like to have seen his wife there too. Seeing past his partner, Elliot noticed the others. Cragen looked like he was torn between being angry and being concerned, which couldn't be good. He needed to know what about.
"What happened?" He croaked out, his throat betraying him.
They looked surprised. Olivia leant forward, with an expression of worry etched over her face. "You don't remember?"
"I remember talking to....that guy. The one who smelled bad."
She gave a lopsided smile. "Nathan Yaney."
"Yeah." Elliot said quietly. "That's the one. After that it's a bit fuzzy."
His partner glanced back at the other SVU detectives and frowned.
"You wound up Raymond Ziegler. Accused him of murder." Olivia explained. "And he hit you."
Elliot's hand inched around the large wound and bruise that felt like it was covering half his head. His fingers prodded here and there. A stabbing pain made him wince.
"Raymond's fist did that?" He said in disbelief.
Olivia couldn't quite mask a wry smile. "No," she said, "the spanner he was holding in his hand did that."
Olivia checked her watch - an inexpensive steel-framed affair, with a simple black leather strap. There was no point in wearing anything expensive to work, that much she had learnt during her years as a cop. Her mouth gaped open in an involuntary yawn, a sign that she really did need some rest, but she suppressed it. Ignored it.
"Olivia?" The soft voice made her jump nearly out of her seat, but a gentle hand on her shoulder proved a calming influence. It was Munch.
She smiled. "Hey."
"He OK?" Fin asked brusquely. He cared, he really did, but he liked to get quickly to the point. Olivia found herself appreciating it. But that didn't change her answer.
"I don't know - they haven't come back to me yet."
The two men said nothing, but slumped down in chairs either side of her, a protective gesture that did not go unnoticed by anyone. They fixed gazes on the featureless, yellowy-green painted wall, trying not to think too much. Olivia returned to her former, hunched position, her eyes focused on a dried piece of chewing gum on the floor - for no other reason than that it was there. It had formed an almost perfect oval shape, although it bore the marks of someone's shoes. The analytical part of Olivia's mind thought they might have been trainers. Large trainers.
Munch was first to notice the arrival of their captain, who was striding down the hallway at some pace. He looked worried, but a little angry too. Evidently he'd heard a few things, and wanted to hear it all. Cragen caught his detective's warning look, and cooled a little. He sat on the opposite side of the hallway, and tried to catch Olivia's eye.
She noticed him and sighed. "The doctors haven't told us anything yet. I don't think its too serious..." Her voice trailed off sounding forlorn.
"Good. What the hell happened?" His voice was suddenly stern, but not harsh.
"We went to Ricky's Autoshop to talk to Raymond Ziegler." Olivia said, her voice suddenly stronger as she found a steady area of conversation.
"The place with the burnt-out Lincoln in front." Fin said knowledgeably.
She nodded, and explained how they'd been lead there via Evie's information. She explained how the owner had been....unpleasant, but had allowed them to talk to Ziegler. And, reluctantly, she explained how she had felt on seeing the man. His two-sided personality, that shone through with honesty, if nothing else. He had been helpful at first, if a little dubious about their presence. Nothing that they hadn't encountered a million and one times before.
"And then?" Cragen asked, knowing full well he wasn't going to like what came next.
Olivia scratched her neck absent-mindedly and began to relate the tale of how it had gone wrong. "Well - Elliot started getting a little....uh..."
"Aggressive?" Munch said. His lined face wore a sympathetic expression.
She nodded. "Yeah, a little aggressive. He started accusing Ziegler of murdering Holli Griffin, implied he knew Ziegler had hit Evie."
"Had he?" Cragen asked with sudden interest. "Record of violence..."
Olivia shook her head. "Yeah I can't see him for the Griffin murder. He genuinely seemed surprised she was dead, genuinely surprised why we were there."
Just then the arrival of a man who looked far too young for his profession, a baby-faced junior doctor, disturbed the conversation. He dithered momentarily on the edge of the group before Cragen put him at ease by asking simply how his detective was doing.
"Uh- he's -uh- gonna be fine. Nasty bruise on his head, a couple of stitches, and a hell of a headache, but otherwise he's OK." The doctor smiled nervously. "Oh," he said, realising what else they were waiting for, "you can go in. Not too long."
As the doctor scuttled away, Cragen stood. He looked directly at Fin and Munch , and explained that despite the day's events, he expected them to follow up what they had been working on. They could see Stabler, briefly, but then they were to go back to the office and finish up. Neither of them objected. They knew what was necessary.
The trio entered the hospital room, gingerly pushing open the swing door and filing in one by one. Olivia went first, Cragen second, then Munch, and finally Fin. They stood anxiously behind the curtain, and waited for the nurse to draw it. She pulled the faded, patched, flowery material in a big bunch and tied it so the detectives could sit by the bed undisturbed by fabric.
He looked very pale, and there was a large piece of bandage taped on his forehead. Very pale. Olivia suddenly felt sick, and almost fell into the chair closest to him. She heard the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor, and assumed (correctly) that the others were also making themselves comfortable. He hadn't moved. Not an inch. Her heart was beating way too fast, and her brain was running through all the things that could have happened in that garage. His eyes opened, a flicker of the lids, then blue. She sighed with relief.
Elliot winced. His head felt like it was about to explode. A million shards hitting the inside of his skull, and boy did it hurt. His sight was pretty clear, but the light was painful. He was glad to see Olivia there, although he'd like to have seen his wife there too. Seeing past his partner, Elliot noticed the others. Cragen looked like he was torn between being angry and being concerned, which couldn't be good. He needed to know what about.
"What happened?" He croaked out, his throat betraying him.
They looked surprised. Olivia leant forward, with an expression of worry etched over her face. "You don't remember?"
"I remember talking to....that guy. The one who smelled bad."
She gave a lopsided smile. "Nathan Yaney."
"Yeah." Elliot said quietly. "That's the one. After that it's a bit fuzzy."
His partner glanced back at the other SVU detectives and frowned.
"You wound up Raymond Ziegler. Accused him of murder." Olivia explained. "And he hit you."
Elliot's hand inched around the large wound and bruise that felt like it was covering half his head. His fingers prodded here and there. A stabbing pain made him wince.
"Raymond's fist did that?" He said in disbelief.
Olivia couldn't quite mask a wry smile. "No," she said, "the spanner he was holding in his hand did that."