Awakening

She felt the heat of the sunlight on the back of her eyelids and with this heat came the pain, roaring through her body. Everything hurt. She realized that it wasn't her making her lungs inhale and exhale. Instinct caused her to fight whatever it was. She started choking. Involuntarily her eyes shot open looking around frantically for help. A man that she knew she was supposed to know was there, holing her hand, "Olivia, it's ok. Just relax. Let it breathe for you. She didn't know why, but she trusted him. Maybe it was his voice, maybe it was the way he was stroking her hair and holding her hand, or maybe it was just the fact that there was no one else there for her. She followed his advice and relaxed, letting the mechanical rhythm take over her body.
She looked around the room, hoping to see something, anything, that would put her confusion to rest. She searched her mind for something to clue her in on what had happened, where she was, hell, who she was for that matter. She opened her mouth, trying to talk, but all she felt was the tiny respirator tube down her throat. She was helpless. She locked eyes with the man that was sitting beside her, still holding her hand. She hoped that his eyes, his face, something about him would cause a flicker of memory. But nothing came.
She heard the door open and she struggled in vain to sit up. More strangers walked in, surrounded her. She felt closed in, claustrophobic, like all the air in the little plastic tube winding its way down her throat was going to be cut off. She heard a loud beeping over her shoulder. The man that had been sitting beside her jumped up, started stroking her hair again, "Dammit! Casey, get a doctor!"
A tall, slim redhead, the only woman in the group of four that walked in, rushed out. The man spoke again, his comments faced back to her. "Olivia, it's okay." She nodded, still unsure about the other three men in the room. A black man with his hair slicked back in a ponytail holder, an older white man with slightly graying hair at his temples, and another older man, kinda chubby, but a respectable man. The beeping back over her shoulder slowed down, she guessed that it was her heart monitor, considering that she had stopped hearing her heartbeat in her head. He spoke to her again, "Liv, do you remember anything? About what happened? Hell, about us for that matter? Us?" He gestured to the other men standing around.
Olivia shook her head no, only just now understanding and remembering her own first name. She knew that she knew these people, all of them. Even the redhead that was just now coming back into the room with a man in a white lab coat. It was on the tip of her tongue. There was just something holding the memories back. The doctor came toward her, coming between her and Mr. Hand. She felt her hand drop and immediately felt self-conscious. Her heart started speeding up again. She wanted to feel the warmth and security that Mr. Hand brought. The doctor toward over her. Something about this didn't feel right, something was wrong, the last time someone was towering over her like this, something terrible happened. She heard the heart monitor speed up again, felt the water of her unconsciousness rise like a wave to swallow her. She fought, tried hard to keep it from taking her. She felt her body disagree with the respirator's rhythm all over again. She wasn't getting air, wasn't getting anything. The wave came again to engulf her and she let it, knowing that she wouldn't let her drown her, and needing to escape reality.

***

The next time she came to, the first thing she noticed was a rawness in her throat, and the fact that her lungs were moving to her own rhythm. The respirator had been removed. It was dark outside, but not dark enough for her to believe that it was very late. She turned her head, and saw that Mr. Hand was still there, dozing on a chair. He wasn't holding her hand, but the chair was pulled as close as it could be without it being on top of her. She wondered if it would be rude to wake him up, then decided that he must want to talk to her, he had been sitting by her bed for god only knows how long. "Hey!" she was surprised to hear her hushed voice. Apparently, so was he. He jumped a mile before realizing that it was she who spoke.
"Livia? Hey, how are you feeling?"
She looked into his eyes, and saw the warmth within them. However they knew each other, she hoped it wasn't by blood. The look in his eyes was pure love, and in sure as hell wasn't brotherly. She took a second to wonder if he knew about what was revealed in his eyes, then decided that if he didn't know, it was n't for her to tell him, "I'd feel a lot better if I could think of you as anything other than 'Mr. Hand'." He chuckled then glanced down, where his hand had once again grabbed her's and was laying on the bed. She continued, "I know that I should know who you are, I just don't know how, or who, or-well-much of anything."
He nodded, his eyes clouded slightly by disappointment, "Elliot Stabler, we, huh, we worked together."
She nodded, remembering a little more, now that she had some information to search with, "Elliot, okay, you have kids, I wanna say four, right?" She broke off, looking to him for a reply, when he nodded she continued, buoyed by her success, "We worked together as-wait-don't tell me- as detectives! Those people that where here earlier, they worked with us, right?!" She wanted to continue, memories were snowballing now, they kept coming, faster and faster. Names, however, and the event that must've put her in the hospital, continued to elude her.
She slowly sat up, refusing Elliot's help, and after a few awkward and painful moments, she succeeded. "What day is it?" She asked, continuing to search her memory for the names of the mysterious coworkers.
"Saturday. What else do you remember, Liv?"
"Sorry to say it, but nothing about what put me in here. What did put me here?"
Elliot blinked. Olivia gathered that he hadn't been prepared for her to ask that question so soon. But he answered he, and she saw that it wasn't easy for him to tell her.
"You----Um----You were raped. Then he beat you, badly. Very badly." He was avoiding her eyes, but she didn't notice. She was lost in her own thoughts.
"That's why I can't remember anything. What is it, amnesia?" Elliot nodded, still avoiding her eyes. "Anything else? Any other important news?" She knew that it was wrong to take her anger out on Elliot. He probably hadn't left her side since she had been in the hospital. But there wasn't anyone else around and she was in pain.
Elliot reached for her hand but she pushed it away, not sure if she wanted to be touched, not sure if she could hold herself together if she was. She didn't want the tears to fall, but she wasn't sure if she could hold them in. She closed her eyes and silently counted to three, hoping that the relaxing action would comfort her. When she opened them she felt the tears falling, she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold in the storm hiding behind her eyes.
She erupted with emotion and in a second she felt the side of the bed dip, and Elliot's arms around her, holding her. For the first time since she woke up she felt truly safe, so she relaxed and let herself fall into his arms. And sensing what she needed, he tightened his grip. She cried for herself, and for the memories that she didn't have.