A/N: Well it has happened. A plot bunny I have been trying to resist for about a year and a half has taken over and I now have a fourth multi chap in progress. This idea just wouldn't leave me alone so this was bound to happen. This story is set in Season eight and is established EO since Fault. This first chapter will be just a prologue.
Trigger warning: I do want to put this out there in advance. Due to the plot of this story, it goes to darker places than my other stories. I know that some are uncomfortable reading fics where Olivia has been raped. I don't expect anyone to read this, especially if it is triggering. Please proceed with caution, and don't feel bad if this isn't your cup of tea. There are other stories to read. Also trigger warnings for torture, kidnapping, and suicidal ideation.
She was freezing.
She had no way of knowing what time of year it was, how long she'd been in this place that had become her dungeon, or how many times her body had been torn and violated.
She didn't know when the last time was that she was allowed to have a meal either, or a drink of water. She only got to eat when she was good.
She hadn't been good today. Despite their attempts to break her in every way possible these last few months, she couldn't take it. They forced her to take two at a time and instead of swallowing it, she vomited up what little food she'd been allowed to eat. It landed on the man's shoes and, as a result, he coated her face with his filthy seed, raped her from behind, and left her bleeding in nothing but torn panties and a bra.
At least they let her wear something when they were done with her.
On the nights she was sold to groups, they wouldn't clothe her afterward. They'd simply take what they came for and leave her chained to the bed.
She'd lost count of how many men after the first week.
There were only a few things she was sure of. One was that she was in a dark, cold, damp basement that hadn't been cleaned in years. There was a blood-stained mattress on the floor in the corner of the room. There was a thin sheet that didn't do much to keep her warm. There was a bucket for when she had to go to the bathroom.
That was about it besides the torture devices hanging on the walls. The chains and other objects made her sick to look at. That kept her paralyzed with crippling fear every day of what would inevitably be done to her.
She laid on the mattress and covered up with the sheet. Even though it didn't do much there was small comfort in being able to cover herself, to preserve whatever shred of dignity she had left. It wouldn't matter even if the sheet was a blanket though. She still wouldn't be warm because the one person who had the power to make her feel warm and safe and secure was thousands of miles away.
"Elliot," She sobbed even though it wouldn't do any good. "Elliot. Elliot."
That was the second thing she knew.
No matter how many tears she had cried for him he hadn't come for her. She was beginning to think he never would. She didn't know how long she'd been down here and couldn't expect him to search for her forever. He couldn't possibly love her that much. She was already unloveable before this but now even more so.
How could he expect him to come to save her, to still look at her the same, to still love her the same after the disgusting things she'd let these men do to her. After the disgusting things she'd been forced to do for them. So many filthy hands, mouths, and other body parts had invaded her that she felt like her soul had been shattered. She was tainted. She didn't deserve to live.
Yet, even though it seemed to be her only way out, they hadn't killed her.
She'd tried begging them to but they simply laughed in her face and told her they were having too much fun with her. She was making them money.
She turned over on her side but didn't close her eyes. The little sleep she would get would undoubtedly be plagued by nightmares of the terror she had experienced during her time in this hellhole.
Sometimes though her mind would still grace her with an image of Elliot's face to drown out those nightmares. His blue eyes that had always looked at her with love, his smile, his voice, everything she had missed. The memory was always short-lived though. Just a tiny hint of safety and then it would be whisked away and she would feel the chill set in that had become permanent during her captivity.
She whimpered when she heard the door creak open and scooted closer to the wall as if it would offer her some protection. It wouldn't. She knew it wouldn't do any good, but it gave her an illusion that she could still protect herself.
"Get up!" She clenched her eyes shut so she wouldn't see who had come in. Every part of her body still hurt like hell from the last assault and she fought back fearful sobs at having to endure another so soon after. "The boss wants to move you," A gown was thrown in her direction. "Get up you lazy bitch or I'll make you." The thought of more hands on her made her sick. She stood up shakily and put the gown on over her head.
"W-where are we going?" She involuntarily flinched, anticipating a punch.
Instead, a hand gripped the back of her neck as the other trailed down her body. The stranger grinned sickeningly at her. She tried to move away but his grip was too strong.
"Does it really matter? It's not like you're gonna escape," A strangled sob ripped from her throat when the hand trailing her body cupped her core and cold fingers forced themselves inside her.
"P-p-please don't. I'm sorry. I won't ask more questions," She wanted to gag at the smell of his breath as he growled in her ear. He squeezed her breast painfully through her gown and she whimpered.
"You're right, you won't. Your voice will be too hoarse from the ways we'll make you scream, you slut," She tried to block out the feeling of him pressing into her from behind as she was dragged upstairs and outside.
It had been ages since she'd seen the sun which she knew meant she was being moved to a new location. She never knew where that was though, but she hadn't been on a plane yet, so she at least knew she was still in the US.
The detective still lingering within her tried her best to look around, with the hope of a rescue one day somewhere in her mind, gathering as many details as she could for describing the location and her captors for any fathomable arrest to come. Before she could get a good look, a blindfold was placed over her eyes, and she was shoved into a car. She hoped she'd been thrown in a trunk. At least, then, she'd have that reprieve from being touched, but the intense feeling of dread chilled her veins when she felt hands grope her body. She was in a car with tinted windows laid across the back seat on someone's lap and had no way to escape their slimy, nausea-inducing touch for however long the car ride would be. She wouldn't have been able to escape from a trunk either so there was no reason for them to do this other than to drag out the terror, to steal more of her dignity and control.
"Please, let me ride in the trunk. Please, I'll be good," She sobbed. "Please, stop. Please, let me go," The only response was laughter as she tried to block out the violation and think of her partner.
Please, find me, El. I can't take anymore and I don't care that I'm begging. I need you. Where are you?
Did he even care anymore?
X
A whole year.
She had been missing for twelve months, fifty-two weeks, three hundred and sixty-five days, eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours, five hundred and twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes, and thirty-one million five hundred fifty-seven thousand six hundred seconds. Most people don't keep track of every one of those thirty-one million five hundred fifty-seven thousand six hundred seconds. He didn't use to, either. He never even knew that number until now. The love of his life, who should have been in bed with him safely in his arms had been in the clutches of an unknown monster for thirty-one million five hundred fifty-seven thousand six hundred seconds and they were no closer to finding her.
He looked over at the alarm clock. It was only three in the morning but he knew he wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight. He never slept when she was on his mind which was most hours of the day. He ran a hand down his face and sat up slowly. The grief and worry over her disappearance made him feel twenty years older. The only semblance of comfort was that he had sold his apartment and moved into hers. It made him feel closer to her. He could almost smell her shampoo when he laid on her pillow, he could see her on the couch cuddled into his side while they watched a movie, even her coffee maker reminded him of her. It reminded her of lazy weekend mornings when they didn't have to go to work after they spent the night together making love. One of them would get up and make the coffee while the other showered. They'd share a good morning kiss, and complain about morning breath, and then order breakfast from the diner because neither of them liked to cook.
He looked at the picture of them on her nightstand and picked it up, stroking her face with his thumb. God, he missed her. He missed her so much every one of those thirty-one million five hundred and fifty-seven thousand six hundred seconds sent an agonizing dagger through his heart.
"I'm gonna find you, sweetheart. I promise. They may have given up but I never will. I love you. More than anything. I'll bring you home soon," He sniffled. It was something he told her often even though she wasn't there to hear him. All he could do was pray that wherever she was, she knew.
His years on the job told him at this point they were probably looking for her body. Yet he refused to believe it. She wasn't dead. They were partners. He'd know if she was dead because he would be, too. She was his world. He would never give up on her no matter how many other cases he had to focus on, no matter how many times his colleagues told her they knew it was hard but he had to let her go.
They had no fucking idea. If they thought he could just let her go they had no fucking idea. She was a part of him. He couldn't. Until he saw a body he had to believe she was alive. He wouldn't survive otherwise. It was why he refused to work with a new partner. He would work by himself or Munch and Fin but no way in hell was he working with a rookie who wasn't his Olivia. No one would ever replace her. No one.
The sound of his phone ringing interrupted his thoughts. He answered it expecting to be called in on another case. For another victim. One that wasn't Olivia. The same heart-wrenching routine he had repeated every day for twelve months, fifty-two weeks, three hundred sixty-five days, and so on.
"Stabler," Instead the response he got made his heart stop.
"Elliot," Cragen's voice was grim. "A woman was found matching Olivia's description. They need someone to come to identify her," He swallowed a lump in his throat.
"What hospital?"
"El," The nickname she had always used. The one meant for comfort. The sign that the person saying it wasn't talking to him as his colleague or boss, but as his friend. Someone who cared about him. "Son-"
"Just tell me."
"She's in the morgue."
"Oh god," His knees buckled. Not her. Please God not her.
"Are you gonna be ok to drive?"
"I-" He couldn't speak.
"I'll come to pick you up."
X
He was numb. Neither he nor Cragen said a word as they walked into the morgue. This was the end. He wasn't being dramatic. If Olivia was the body brought in it would be the end of him. He'd like to think he'd be able to keep going for his kids but he didn't know exactly how.
He gripped the wall as he watched through the glass. He didn't think he could stay on his feet without support.
He felt the shreds left of his heart eroding as the sheet was pulled back. He wished Melinda was the M.E. working that night. She knew Olivia and could prepare him if it turned out to be her, but it wasn't. The responsibility to identify her fell solely on Elliot. Olivia didn't have any family. Elliot was her next of kin, her emergency contact, her partner. He knew her intimately. He had to do this no matter how much it killed him because he was the only one that could.
A sob ripped from his throat when he saw brown hair.
"Brunette female, brown eyes...looks, maybe, mid-to-late thirties-" Before Elliot could stop him Elliot stepped into the room where the M.E. was.
"Can you...can you pull the sheet down a little more. I need to see if-I need to look for something," The first place he looked was on her neck. He didn't see one that would've been in the spot. However, there were so many other scars on this body he could've easily missed it. The face was beaten beyond recognition. That wouldn't help either. Still, he would cling to hope till the last second that this was someone else. That his partner might still be alive. "My partner and I were intimate. She has a birthmark on her inner hip shaped like a heart," He choked out through tears and watched as the sheet was pulled further back. He scanned the body, searching for signs of the one he had known so well. He blinked away tears so his vision wouldn't be blurred.
"No birthmark."
"W-wait what?"
"Sir-"
"Elliot. Please, Doctor."
"This woman doesn't have the birthmark you mentioned. I don't think it's your partner," He looked back down at the body, the spots he'd kissed so many times weren't there. Another sob ripped from his gut.
"Oh God, it's not. It's not her. It's not my Liv. Don! Don, it's not her! It's not her!"
"Are you sure?"
"Cap, I know my partner's body," No matter how awkward that comment was a wave of relief washed over Cragen. They may not be any closer to finding the woman he considered his daughter, but at least there was still reason to hope.
"Ok. Ok. Good. Thank you for your time Doctor."
They could still have hope but it was waning.
Because that might not have been her, but the next body might be, and Elliot wasn't sure he would survive another phone call.
He almost made it out of the building before he punched a wall.
Please, Lord. Let her be alive. I'll give her whatever care and support she needs. Just bring her back to me.
X
They had knocked her out with something at some point because suddenly she couldn't feel their hands on her body anymore. When she came to, she knew she had been out for several hours because the blindfold had been removed and she was in a different car driving away from an airport. She did a double-take when she saw the sign.
La Guardia.
New York.
She was home.
The tiny light of hope was nearly snuffed out when she heard someone talking about passports. They were taking her overseas.
She had to escape. She didn't know how but she had to find a way.
It was her last chance.
X
She tried not to give any hint to her captors that she knew this place. She knew the only reason they were allowing her to see out the windows was that for all they knew she was Persephone James of Oregon. They were confident she wouldn't try anything in a big, unfamiliar city.
For the first time since her abduction, she felt a fire ignite within her and bit back a smirk when one of the men muttered something about New York traffic.
She had home-field advantage and they didn't have the slightest clue of that.
The sound of screeching tires brought her out of her thoughts.
X
The first thing she noticed was the car had stopped moving. The second thing she noticed was the blood.
The third? She was the only one in the vehicle that was awake and relatively uninjured.
Her head throbbed and she looked around at the shattered windows of the car that had been flipped over on its side. The hands that had been groping her were limp.
Was this her chance?
She shakily climbed over the body of one of the men and opened the car door, terrified the sound would wake one of her captors. It didn't. She nearly cried in relief. She climbed out and stood on the road for a minute in disbelief that she had done it.
The next thing she knew she was running faster than she ever had in her life. In a ripped, bloody gown, sobbing, praying that the next person she saw would help her.
X
It was his lunch break but he didn't feel like eating. He knew the rest of the squad was worried about him though so he decided to go for a drive so they would think he went to lunch. He was doing ok until he thought of Olivia again and how wherever she was they might be denying her food. That quickly stole whatever appetite he might have had.
He could see someone running in the distance and shook his head. What kind of idiot runs on a highway when there's a perfectly safe sidewalk?
His Detective radar kicked in when he realized it was a woman who was injured running towards him. He stopped his car just short of hitting her. Luckily the light was red and he didn't give a fuck who saw him. He stepped out and held up his badge.
"Ma'am-"
The run had been too much for her. She collapsed against the hood of his car and he crouched down next to her. The woman flinched violently and scooted away from him.
"Sweetheart, it's okay. I'm a police officer. You're safe now. I'm gonna help you. Can you tell me your name?" Horns honked behind him but he didn't care that he was blocking traffic. This was his job. "I'm not gonna hurt you." He put his hands up in surrender. "I wanna help you, that's all. See?" He handed her his badge "It's alright now," He did not attempt to hold back the sob at the word he heard in response.
"E-El?"
"Oh my God. Olivia? You're alive," He refrained from touching her because he knew she'd been through some kind of trauma, but it was hard. He wanted to hold her and never let her go again.
"T-they're gonna...you have to help me," Her eyes were wide with terror and it broke his heart.
"I will baby. I'm gonna take you to the hospital okay? It's alright now. You're safe," He soothed.
"I'm not safe!" She cried. "They're gonna catch me!"
"No. No, I promise. I've got you now. I'm gonna protect you," He reached his hand out to her and she took it after a moment of hesitation. "You're home now. It's gonna be alright. I'll make sure of it," He helped her into the car and gave her his hoodie to wear over the gown, wanting to give some of her dignity back to her. It was a small step to helping her heal, to giving her comfort. Even with that, she was shaking uncontrollably. He didn't notice anyone following him but used the lights and sirens so they could get to the hospital as fast as possible.
The next thing he did was call Cragen.
"Don, I found her. She's alive," He choked back a sob. "She's alive. I've got her. I'm taking her to the hospital."
A/N: More later. If you made it through to the end thank you for reading. This made me nervous to write. Reviews would be appreciated. Next will be a Valentine's day oneshot, so something more light-hearted, and a Father of Mine update. I'm not abandoning any of my other stories so if this one isn't for you...there are three others! :)
Thank you to my beta FragileVixenFic!