A.N.: I wrote this long before I wrote anything after Revelations ( as a
matter of fact, I wrote the very beginning of this before I wrote the real
beginning) so if anything doesn't go together then I am extremely,
extremely sorry, but I can't be picky about what my Muse gives me. LOL!
~Brandi
Confrontation.
Olivia opened the door to the old building; her gun up and ready. She didn't need any noise to know that he was there. She had her gut feeling. He was in there somewhere, she was just as sure of that as if he had come to the door and greeted her.
As she silently crept through the building, she fought a losing battle to keep her breath light and steady. Waves of nausea rushed through her throat, causing her to nearly choke to keep from dry-heaving. She heard her breath, ragged and coming in short gasps. She tried to calm down; told herself that she was the most dangerous person in the building. That he was just another perp. But he wasn't. He was her perp.
She shook her head and cleared her mind, trying to focus on her surroundings. She heard a noise to her left and quickly pivoted in that direction.
"Show yourself! Come out!" Olivia was surprised to hear how steady her voice was, considering how much her hands were shaking.
"Are you scared, Detective Benson?" The deep voice sent chills down her spine, "You don't have to tell me. I can feel it. It comes off you in waves. You reek of it!" The voice was moving around her. Circles. She turned, her gun in shaking in her hands.
"Shut up! You don't have any power over me!" Olivia shouted, wanting him to come out. And wishing that she wasn't lying.
"Liar! I have all the power, Olivia. You know it. Why else would your hand be shaking so much that you can barely hold your gun?"
She looked down the barrel and saw that he was telling the truth. The gun was jerking back and forth violently. She felt his hand land gently on her shoulder, his fingers digging into it. More than anything she wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. As much as he had hurt her mother, but her muscles were frozen. The nausea kept rising.
"See Olivia? I control you. You want to hurt me. Kill me even. But you can't. My voice, just my voice, sends chills of fear down your spine." His low voice lowered even more, down to a whisper, His lips barely grazing her ear, "I can still feel it, Olivia. You're fear."
As he spoke, his hand traced the line of her spine through her shirt. Her rage at his audacity left her hands trembling, and freed her body from its momentary paralyzation. She twisted around and used her shoulder to push him down to his knees. She turned to face him and held her gun to his forehead.
"Move and I swear on my mother's grave that it will be the last mistake you'll ever make." She was glad to see his eyes glazed over in fear. She could almost feel his mind going a hundred miles an hour hoping to talk her out of pulling the trigger; whether to go with intimidating her, or simply begging for his life.
He opened his mouth to start speaking. But everything, all her life, all the hurt she felt for her mother, for herself, for the other victims who couldn't do anything for themselves. The rage at all of the perps she had put away, the rage at the ones she couldn't. It all boiled down to that one second. That one moment of indecision. His voice continued to grate on her nerves. She clenched her teeth, "Shut up."
He blanched in fear, and looked up at her. His eyes, so much like hers, were filled with fear. Olivia heard a car door slam, and her name being called, but she didn't care. It was as if she was in another dimension. The gun was steady. She had her self-confidence back. 'Whoever said revenge didn't work, obviously didn't do it right.' She thought to herself.
"How does it feel? To be at the mercy of one of your victims? To have her hold the power of life and death? Are you scared, Andrew?" She spoke quickly, knowing that time was running out. She had to make him understand what he had done.
The troops arrived. Olivia heard Elliot's voice as though through a fog, "Olivia, honey. This isn't the way to make everything right. Put the gun down."
She saw Andrew's eyes lighten, once again cocky, believing that she wouldn't kill him now. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She couldn't.
"Olivia! Please, honey. Put the gun down. This isn't right. Livia?"
Andrew snickered, just loud enough for Olivia to hear him, "That's right, my dearest, darlingest daughter. It isn't right. You can't be like me." He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. Olivia was fed up.
A shot rang out, loud and clear in the empty building.
She lowered her gun, Then dropped it at Andrew's feet. Andrew looked up at her, then glanced at the hole in the floor between his legs; still smoking from the bullet. He looked back up at her, a mixture of fear and confusion clouding his eyes.
"You're right. I'm not like you. I'm nothing like you. I never will be." She felt Elliot's presence behind her, and she quickly turned and fell into it, tears running down her face. He embraced her and led her outside while Fin and a uniform cautiously approached the man, who was still on his knees, staring at the gun. As they read him his rights, he looked at Fin, "She's right. She's not like me. She never could be."
**************************************************************************** **********
Olivia tightened her coat around her against the chill outside. She looked down at the grave she was standing in front of and let herself cry. She read the name engraved on the headstone and made a promise, "Her middle name. Her middle name is going to be Serena. I promise Mom"
She stood there for another few minutes, enjoying the silence and the cold air on her face. She was startled by Elliot's arm circling her waist, "Are you okay, Liv?"
She sighed, not ready to answer him, not sure how to. Elliot took her silence as a no, "Olivia, it's over now. He's in jail, and he's going to stay there for a long time. You know that."
She nodded, "I remember a fight that we got into one night, when I was about 16," She continued to look at the grave, "I came home one night from a party at about 1:00, hell, it might've even been 2:00. And she was drunk. At the time I didn't put one and one together and figure that she had been drinking because she was worried about me, I just thought that she had broken her promise to me. And we fought. Long and hard about it. I was selfish. I told her that I hated her. And that she could go to hell. She just looked a me and started crying. And she told me that I didn't understand what she went through when she decided to have me, when she had decided to keep me. The mixture of love and hate that she felt when she looked at me sometimes. The fact that more than anything in the world she wished that the hate wasn't there. That she could love me unconditionally like any normal mother. Then she told me that she prayed every night that I never would. That I would never understand it. And then she hugged me. After all of that, hours of yelling and screaming at each other, she hugged me. And I was still mad at her. I was too young and stupid to understand what she had just told me. The importance of it. It stuck with me, though. I've always remembered that argument." She turned around and looked at Elliot, tears clouding her brown eyes,
"And now, I understand it. What she told me. And it's too late to tell her. I understand everything. The indecision, the questions. And she's not here for me to ask her. And I hate her for that." Olivia was all out sobbing now, and leaning into Elliot's embrace for a comfort that he couldn't provide, "But I love her because she cared. She loved me. More than anything in the world, she loved me." She stayed in his arms for a few more seconds then pulled away, and looked at him in the eyes.
"I don't want to be alone, Elliot. I can't be like her. She died alone because she was scared of being hurt. She didn't want to admit to needing anyone. But I'm admitting it. I need someone. I need you." She fell back into his arms, sobbing again. Her voice was muffled both by her closeness to him and her tears, "He got me pregnant, Elliot. And I don't know what to do."
Elliot continued to hold her, his cheek on her head, not knowing what to say, and hoping that the closeness was enough for her now. Then he pulled her away from him, but kept his hands on her shoulders, "I promise you that you will never be alone. And that I won't hurt you. I swear to that. I don't know what to do either, honey. But we'll figure it out. Together. We'll figure it out." He pulled her back to him, and watched as the sun set in the horizon. He promised again to her, this time the closeness of their bodies accenting it, "Together."
The end...Maybe a continuation...
Confrontation.
Olivia opened the door to the old building; her gun up and ready. She didn't need any noise to know that he was there. She had her gut feeling. He was in there somewhere, she was just as sure of that as if he had come to the door and greeted her.
As she silently crept through the building, she fought a losing battle to keep her breath light and steady. Waves of nausea rushed through her throat, causing her to nearly choke to keep from dry-heaving. She heard her breath, ragged and coming in short gasps. She tried to calm down; told herself that she was the most dangerous person in the building. That he was just another perp. But he wasn't. He was her perp.
She shook her head and cleared her mind, trying to focus on her surroundings. She heard a noise to her left and quickly pivoted in that direction.
"Show yourself! Come out!" Olivia was surprised to hear how steady her voice was, considering how much her hands were shaking.
"Are you scared, Detective Benson?" The deep voice sent chills down her spine, "You don't have to tell me. I can feel it. It comes off you in waves. You reek of it!" The voice was moving around her. Circles. She turned, her gun in shaking in her hands.
"Shut up! You don't have any power over me!" Olivia shouted, wanting him to come out. And wishing that she wasn't lying.
"Liar! I have all the power, Olivia. You know it. Why else would your hand be shaking so much that you can barely hold your gun?"
She looked down the barrel and saw that he was telling the truth. The gun was jerking back and forth violently. She felt his hand land gently on her shoulder, his fingers digging into it. More than anything she wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. As much as he had hurt her mother, but her muscles were frozen. The nausea kept rising.
"See Olivia? I control you. You want to hurt me. Kill me even. But you can't. My voice, just my voice, sends chills of fear down your spine." His low voice lowered even more, down to a whisper, His lips barely grazing her ear, "I can still feel it, Olivia. You're fear."
As he spoke, his hand traced the line of her spine through her shirt. Her rage at his audacity left her hands trembling, and freed her body from its momentary paralyzation. She twisted around and used her shoulder to push him down to his knees. She turned to face him and held her gun to his forehead.
"Move and I swear on my mother's grave that it will be the last mistake you'll ever make." She was glad to see his eyes glazed over in fear. She could almost feel his mind going a hundred miles an hour hoping to talk her out of pulling the trigger; whether to go with intimidating her, or simply begging for his life.
He opened his mouth to start speaking. But everything, all her life, all the hurt she felt for her mother, for herself, for the other victims who couldn't do anything for themselves. The rage at all of the perps she had put away, the rage at the ones she couldn't. It all boiled down to that one second. That one moment of indecision. His voice continued to grate on her nerves. She clenched her teeth, "Shut up."
He blanched in fear, and looked up at her. His eyes, so much like hers, were filled with fear. Olivia heard a car door slam, and her name being called, but she didn't care. It was as if she was in another dimension. The gun was steady. She had her self-confidence back. 'Whoever said revenge didn't work, obviously didn't do it right.' She thought to herself.
"How does it feel? To be at the mercy of one of your victims? To have her hold the power of life and death? Are you scared, Andrew?" She spoke quickly, knowing that time was running out. She had to make him understand what he had done.
The troops arrived. Olivia heard Elliot's voice as though through a fog, "Olivia, honey. This isn't the way to make everything right. Put the gun down."
She saw Andrew's eyes lighten, once again cocky, believing that she wouldn't kill him now. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She couldn't.
"Olivia! Please, honey. Put the gun down. This isn't right. Livia?"
Andrew snickered, just loud enough for Olivia to hear him, "That's right, my dearest, darlingest daughter. It isn't right. You can't be like me." He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. Olivia was fed up.
A shot rang out, loud and clear in the empty building.
She lowered her gun, Then dropped it at Andrew's feet. Andrew looked up at her, then glanced at the hole in the floor between his legs; still smoking from the bullet. He looked back up at her, a mixture of fear and confusion clouding his eyes.
"You're right. I'm not like you. I'm nothing like you. I never will be." She felt Elliot's presence behind her, and she quickly turned and fell into it, tears running down her face. He embraced her and led her outside while Fin and a uniform cautiously approached the man, who was still on his knees, staring at the gun. As they read him his rights, he looked at Fin, "She's right. She's not like me. She never could be."
**************************************************************************** **********
Olivia tightened her coat around her against the chill outside. She looked down at the grave she was standing in front of and let herself cry. She read the name engraved on the headstone and made a promise, "Her middle name. Her middle name is going to be Serena. I promise Mom"
She stood there for another few minutes, enjoying the silence and the cold air on her face. She was startled by Elliot's arm circling her waist, "Are you okay, Liv?"
She sighed, not ready to answer him, not sure how to. Elliot took her silence as a no, "Olivia, it's over now. He's in jail, and he's going to stay there for a long time. You know that."
She nodded, "I remember a fight that we got into one night, when I was about 16," She continued to look at the grave, "I came home one night from a party at about 1:00, hell, it might've even been 2:00. And she was drunk. At the time I didn't put one and one together and figure that she had been drinking because she was worried about me, I just thought that she had broken her promise to me. And we fought. Long and hard about it. I was selfish. I told her that I hated her. And that she could go to hell. She just looked a me and started crying. And she told me that I didn't understand what she went through when she decided to have me, when she had decided to keep me. The mixture of love and hate that she felt when she looked at me sometimes. The fact that more than anything in the world she wished that the hate wasn't there. That she could love me unconditionally like any normal mother. Then she told me that she prayed every night that I never would. That I would never understand it. And then she hugged me. After all of that, hours of yelling and screaming at each other, she hugged me. And I was still mad at her. I was too young and stupid to understand what she had just told me. The importance of it. It stuck with me, though. I've always remembered that argument." She turned around and looked at Elliot, tears clouding her brown eyes,
"And now, I understand it. What she told me. And it's too late to tell her. I understand everything. The indecision, the questions. And she's not here for me to ask her. And I hate her for that." Olivia was all out sobbing now, and leaning into Elliot's embrace for a comfort that he couldn't provide, "But I love her because she cared. She loved me. More than anything in the world, she loved me." She stayed in his arms for a few more seconds then pulled away, and looked at him in the eyes.
"I don't want to be alone, Elliot. I can't be like her. She died alone because she was scared of being hurt. She didn't want to admit to needing anyone. But I'm admitting it. I need someone. I need you." She fell back into his arms, sobbing again. Her voice was muffled both by her closeness to him and her tears, "He got me pregnant, Elliot. And I don't know what to do."
Elliot continued to hold her, his cheek on her head, not knowing what to say, and hoping that the closeness was enough for her now. Then he pulled her away from him, but kept his hands on her shoulders, "I promise you that you will never be alone. And that I won't hurt you. I swear to that. I don't know what to do either, honey. But we'll figure it out. Together. We'll figure it out." He pulled her back to him, and watched as the sun set in the horizon. He promised again to her, this time the closeness of their bodies accenting it, "Together."
The end...Maybe a continuation...
