title: religious ecstasy - chapter eight
author: duck
rating: pg-13
author note: wow, last chapter. i wrapped it up sooner than i thought i would, but i think that's just my fingers missing my own computer. brought to you from the sunny state of florida on a furtive internet connection after being written out by hand! and i use alex in my au cause i know her. i can't write casey just yet.
disclaimer: the court has officially rejected my request for custody. i'm quite broken up about it, but alas they are not mine.
- Special Victims Unit -
- Thursday April 29th 8:32am -
"Well," Munch said, emerging from the interrogation room. "He's completely nuts."
"Yeah, we noticed," Elliot confirmed heavily, catching Olivia's eye. She looked like hell, but he probably did too.
"A touch of megalomania, a bit of religious dogma, and a mother who never cared. Poof. Homicidal maniac who is convinced he's character from an Orson Scott Card novel, although I couldn't tell you which because the Ender I remember never killed anyone by choice." He paused. "Or when it wasn't necessary."
"I'm still confused on that part, John," Olivia commented, crossing her arms and bracing her hips against the wall. Her slumped shoulders telegraphed exhaustion and a touch of defeat. They hadn't actually talked earlier--he wouldn't have known what to say--but now he was beginning to rethink that. She was obviously still beating herself up over her actions earlier.
Much earlier, his groaning joints reminded as John launched into his usual longwinded explanation. It seemed like ages since he'd really slept and he hoped it wasn't reflected in his eyes the way it was in Olivia's. He examined the young suspect through the one-way glass. He was doing his best to glare defiantly at the tabletop, but kept glancing up nervously at the very stony and silent Fin.
Elliot rested his forehead against the glass and only half-listened as Munch went on about 'xenocide' or something or other. As it turned out only Andrew Fields' mother was dead. She had died five months before, a prostitute in the wrong place at the wrong time. The whereabouts, even the identity, of his father remained a mystery and Andrew had no place to go when the Opus Dei took him in. He'd unfortunately taken their teachings a little too literally and set out to be the savior of the human race. While the lawyer who sat next to him would undoubtedly try to get him out of it, the self-styled "Ender" Fields faced the needle for his ten murders.
"So young," Olivia murmured next to him. He looked up, realizing Munch had reentered the interrogation room.
"Doesn't change what he did," Elliot said stiffly.
"No, nor I," she replied, self-recrimination evident.
"Olivia--"
"Don't start, Elliot."
He did anyway. "You were forced to put yourself in a dangerous position and you did what anyone else would have done."
"You certainly didn't freeze," she pointed out. She seemed far too close to stalking away.
"I didn't freeze because of you."
"What, because I did?" Her anger hit him like a blast of hot air.
"No, because he wanted to hurt you." He drew in a deep breath trying to sort out what he was trying to say.
"He wanted to hurt you too. He would have killed both of us given the chance."
"That's not what I mean." He sighed. Why was it always so difficult with women? First his daughters, then his wife, now his partner. He didn't want to admit certain things to Olivia, but it was obvious he would have to.
"I had a dream that he killed you because I wasn't there," he confessed. "It was one of the worst nightmares of my life."
"I'm sorry?"
His hand found hers. "When he got near the car I got so pissed he would try to hurt you." His fingers smoothed her skin. "It was only when I realized it was just that eighteen year old that I lost my rage. If it had been anyone else I probably would have beaten the crap out of them for daring to even try to come near you."
"Oh." He smiled at her laconic response.
"We're such good compliments for each other emotionally I probably just took up all the energy from our shared pool anyhow." She snorted. "It's not you fault, Olivia. Please tell me you understand that?"
"I suppose I do own you one mindless acceptance," she said.
"I'd prefer to think that we each get one a day or so."
It was nice to see her smile again.
- 12:43pm -
Alex spotted Olivia at her desk the instant she entered the Special Victims squad room and headed over to talk to her. Elliot was nowhere in sight.
"Hey, Olivia," she greeted. "I hear you have a suspect for me."
"Yeah, the lab just called. His knife had trace amounts of all the victims' blood on it and no one's prints but his own. Seems like we caught an open-and-shut one for you."
Olivia had deep circles under her eyes and looked like she hadn't seen a bed in a week. "When was the last time you slept?" Alex asked.
"Uh, a couple nights ago," Olivia said with a shrug.
"You should take a couple days off," Alex suggested, frowning. "Maybe sleep the whole time."
"I'm waiting until Elliot gets back. We have to finish a couple bits of paperwork and then Cragen told us he didn't want to see us until Monday." She was fiddling with her pen in a nervous way, but Alex just attributed it to nervous energy from not sleeping. She'd done that herself many times in law school.
"Okay, I'll go talk to Cragen then," Alex said. She turned to go but stopped. "Oh, did that DNA on the underwear ever amount to anything?"
"Lab should have the results by tomorrow, but he already confessed they were his."
"Any explanation?" It was mildly curious.
"He got a little excited, but as a numerary it's prohibited."
"Poor kid. Imagine not being able to act like a teenager."
"I don't have to imagine," Olivia sighed. "I saw it."
- 1:50pm -
"Well," Elliot pronounced as he flipped the last folder closed. "That it's. We're done with this one till the court dates. Good riddance."
Olivia leaned back in her chair, her arms folded behind her head. She stretched in the vain hoping of working out the kinks that had become embedded in her back muscles. No such luck.
"So you're crashing at my place, right?" she asked.
"I don't want to impose," he said.
"For the last time, it's not an imposition," she groaned. "And you are *not* wasting your money on a hotel." How many times did she have to sa it before he got it? "Unless you're uncomfortable staying with me."
"No, that's not it," he said, a grin breaking out on his face. "I think other people wouldn't be comfortable with it."
"Eh," she shrugged. "I for one would love to see how high Munch and Fin's bet will go." They both laughed. "Shall we leave, then?"
"Yes indeed," he replied as he rose. "I can't wait to sleep this off."
"Me too," she said, letting more weariness slip in than she'd intended.
"You sure you're okay?" he asked her as they moved towards the doors.
A multitude of snarky remarks tumbled across her mind and she bit them all back. He should know better than to ask after her state of mind by now. Still he cared for her enough to risk her wrath, and while she shouldn't, she did love him, as a friend at the very least. He deserved an honest answer.
How did she feel? She wasn't even sure anymore. This case had pulled her in twenty directions at once. Hate, fear, pity, anger, desire. She'd faced faith and found herself wanting. Again. She felt numb from the raw emotion of it all. Feeling numb was just the first stage, and an unpleasant one at that. She had a ways to go before she felt 'okay.'
"No," she finally said. "But thanks for asking."
[end]
sequels in planning and on the way.
thanks for reading, folks. it's been an honor.
author: duck
rating: pg-13
author note: wow, last chapter. i wrapped it up sooner than i thought i would, but i think that's just my fingers missing my own computer. brought to you from the sunny state of florida on a furtive internet connection after being written out by hand! and i use alex in my au cause i know her. i can't write casey just yet.
disclaimer: the court has officially rejected my request for custody. i'm quite broken up about it, but alas they are not mine.
- Special Victims Unit -
- Thursday April 29th 8:32am -
"Well," Munch said, emerging from the interrogation room. "He's completely nuts."
"Yeah, we noticed," Elliot confirmed heavily, catching Olivia's eye. She looked like hell, but he probably did too.
"A touch of megalomania, a bit of religious dogma, and a mother who never cared. Poof. Homicidal maniac who is convinced he's character from an Orson Scott Card novel, although I couldn't tell you which because the Ender I remember never killed anyone by choice." He paused. "Or when it wasn't necessary."
"I'm still confused on that part, John," Olivia commented, crossing her arms and bracing her hips against the wall. Her slumped shoulders telegraphed exhaustion and a touch of defeat. They hadn't actually talked earlier--he wouldn't have known what to say--but now he was beginning to rethink that. She was obviously still beating herself up over her actions earlier.
Much earlier, his groaning joints reminded as John launched into his usual longwinded explanation. It seemed like ages since he'd really slept and he hoped it wasn't reflected in his eyes the way it was in Olivia's. He examined the young suspect through the one-way glass. He was doing his best to glare defiantly at the tabletop, but kept glancing up nervously at the very stony and silent Fin.
Elliot rested his forehead against the glass and only half-listened as Munch went on about 'xenocide' or something or other. As it turned out only Andrew Fields' mother was dead. She had died five months before, a prostitute in the wrong place at the wrong time. The whereabouts, even the identity, of his father remained a mystery and Andrew had no place to go when the Opus Dei took him in. He'd unfortunately taken their teachings a little too literally and set out to be the savior of the human race. While the lawyer who sat next to him would undoubtedly try to get him out of it, the self-styled "Ender" Fields faced the needle for his ten murders.
"So young," Olivia murmured next to him. He looked up, realizing Munch had reentered the interrogation room.
"Doesn't change what he did," Elliot said stiffly.
"No, nor I," she replied, self-recrimination evident.
"Olivia--"
"Don't start, Elliot."
He did anyway. "You were forced to put yourself in a dangerous position and you did what anyone else would have done."
"You certainly didn't freeze," she pointed out. She seemed far too close to stalking away.
"I didn't freeze because of you."
"What, because I did?" Her anger hit him like a blast of hot air.
"No, because he wanted to hurt you." He drew in a deep breath trying to sort out what he was trying to say.
"He wanted to hurt you too. He would have killed both of us given the chance."
"That's not what I mean." He sighed. Why was it always so difficult with women? First his daughters, then his wife, now his partner. He didn't want to admit certain things to Olivia, but it was obvious he would have to.
"I had a dream that he killed you because I wasn't there," he confessed. "It was one of the worst nightmares of my life."
"I'm sorry?"
His hand found hers. "When he got near the car I got so pissed he would try to hurt you." His fingers smoothed her skin. "It was only when I realized it was just that eighteen year old that I lost my rage. If it had been anyone else I probably would have beaten the crap out of them for daring to even try to come near you."
"Oh." He smiled at her laconic response.
"We're such good compliments for each other emotionally I probably just took up all the energy from our shared pool anyhow." She snorted. "It's not you fault, Olivia. Please tell me you understand that?"
"I suppose I do own you one mindless acceptance," she said.
"I'd prefer to think that we each get one a day or so."
It was nice to see her smile again.
- 12:43pm -
Alex spotted Olivia at her desk the instant she entered the Special Victims squad room and headed over to talk to her. Elliot was nowhere in sight.
"Hey, Olivia," she greeted. "I hear you have a suspect for me."
"Yeah, the lab just called. His knife had trace amounts of all the victims' blood on it and no one's prints but his own. Seems like we caught an open-and-shut one for you."
Olivia had deep circles under her eyes and looked like she hadn't seen a bed in a week. "When was the last time you slept?" Alex asked.
"Uh, a couple nights ago," Olivia said with a shrug.
"You should take a couple days off," Alex suggested, frowning. "Maybe sleep the whole time."
"I'm waiting until Elliot gets back. We have to finish a couple bits of paperwork and then Cragen told us he didn't want to see us until Monday." She was fiddling with her pen in a nervous way, but Alex just attributed it to nervous energy from not sleeping. She'd done that herself many times in law school.
"Okay, I'll go talk to Cragen then," Alex said. She turned to go but stopped. "Oh, did that DNA on the underwear ever amount to anything?"
"Lab should have the results by tomorrow, but he already confessed they were his."
"Any explanation?" It was mildly curious.
"He got a little excited, but as a numerary it's prohibited."
"Poor kid. Imagine not being able to act like a teenager."
"I don't have to imagine," Olivia sighed. "I saw it."
- 1:50pm -
"Well," Elliot pronounced as he flipped the last folder closed. "That it's. We're done with this one till the court dates. Good riddance."
Olivia leaned back in her chair, her arms folded behind her head. She stretched in the vain hoping of working out the kinks that had become embedded in her back muscles. No such luck.
"So you're crashing at my place, right?" she asked.
"I don't want to impose," he said.
"For the last time, it's not an imposition," she groaned. "And you are *not* wasting your money on a hotel." How many times did she have to sa it before he got it? "Unless you're uncomfortable staying with me."
"No, that's not it," he said, a grin breaking out on his face. "I think other people wouldn't be comfortable with it."
"Eh," she shrugged. "I for one would love to see how high Munch and Fin's bet will go." They both laughed. "Shall we leave, then?"
"Yes indeed," he replied as he rose. "I can't wait to sleep this off."
"Me too," she said, letting more weariness slip in than she'd intended.
"You sure you're okay?" he asked her as they moved towards the doors.
A multitude of snarky remarks tumbled across her mind and she bit them all back. He should know better than to ask after her state of mind by now. Still he cared for her enough to risk her wrath, and while she shouldn't, she did love him, as a friend at the very least. He deserved an honest answer.
How did she feel? She wasn't even sure anymore. This case had pulled her in twenty directions at once. Hate, fear, pity, anger, desire. She'd faced faith and found herself wanting. Again. She felt numb from the raw emotion of it all. Feeling numb was just the first stage, and an unpleasant one at that. She had a ways to go before she felt 'okay.'
"No," she finally said. "But thanks for asking."
[end]
sequels in planning and on the way.
thanks for reading, folks. it's been an honor.