The Call for Help
"...call my name and save me from the dark..."
Huang frowned at his noisy phone, but picked it up nevertheless.
"Huang here," he told the caller in his usual confident tone.
"Hey there, it's Olivia. Look, I need your help."
"What's wrong? I can be down at the station in 15 minutes," he told her as he reached for his jacket and shoes beside the couch.
"No, it's not that...it's me, Huang. I...I keep having these nightmares, you know...look, can I come to your office tomorrow?" she asked, nervously twisting the phone cord.
"Olivia, I'm a forensic psychiatrist...usually there's a death or rape when I'm needed. This would be a nice change, though. Why don't you take the day off, Olivia, and we can talk. If that doesn't help, there's a shrink I know—I'd highly recommend her. How does ten sound?"
"Ok, doc. Thanks a ton." Huang hung up and went back to watching "The Musicman" as Olivia turned her TV to the same station—she knew she couldn't get back to sleep, and didn't want to, for that matter. She and her mother went to the show when it was on Broadway. It hurt, but she had been dead for a while now...it was time to get over it.
At that time, Fin and Munch were hitting on girls at a bar in Manhattan, Monique was lying alone in her bed, plotting to kill the counselor, Cragen was out with Briscoe at a swanky restraint, and Elliot was asleep, cuddling a pillow he thought to be Kathy.
"Sweet dreams be yours dear, if dreams there be," Marian sang wistfully, "sweet dreams to carry you close to me...I wish I may, and I wish I might—now good night, my someone, good night." The detective and the doctor smiled and sat back in their respective chairs. It was a lonely song, but it threw a blanket of comfort over the two... "Good night, my someone...good night..."
"Is there a someone out there for me?" the two wondered.
However, Olivia, tired from the case she felt in her gut would never be solved and trying to stay up all night, fell asleep before the end of the musical. And she dreamed...
She was lying some where, it looked like Central Park, on a bed of brown decaying leaves surrounded by a rectangle of police tape. Elliot helped Warner over the tape, not taking his eyes off Olivia. The M.E. Olivia had always wished were her friend held her left wrist and remarked "I think there's enough for a DNA sample. I'll take a swab and run it back to the lab." She produced a pair of silver scissors and cut the wrist open, soaking up the blood with a DNA test kit. Olivia fought her off, and suddenly Warner was thrown back against a tree. Olivia looked up and saw Huang dusting off his hands. "Thanks," she told him. "Anything for a friend," he replied.
A/N: No, contrary to popular belief, I am not trying to kill or wound Olivia or give you nightmares.