Not to sound repetitive but thanks to anyone who reviewed. Once again, thoughts are in italics. I'll probably post the seventh, and most likely final, chapter over the weekend. But I can't be sure of anything yet. For now...enjoy chapter six. Thanks.

Chapter Six: Sorry

Elliot raced to Becker's apartment to find it empty. He tore the place apart looking for some clue as to where the man was holding Olivia, or perhaps he did it just because he was angry. He found nothing. He had tried her phone again but there was no answer. The Captain had nothing. Munch and Fin were checking local hospitals and precincts. To make matters worse, they were having trouble tracking Olivia's cell phone site. It would be at least another thirty minutes before they got a location.

Elliot dropped his hands at his side with a heavy sigh. He couldn't believe this was happening. He kept imagining his friend hurt, or dead. It felt surreal. He stood in Becker's apartment thinking his friend was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. It was an unbearably helpless situation. If only he had some direction, some clue as to where she might be. His body twitched with uncontrollable anger. He wanted to get his hands on Martin Becker just as much as he wanted Olivia to be safe. He wouldn't allow himself to be sad or scared though. Anger was a feeling he was comfortable with, not one he could control, but one he knew well. It pushed him; it drove him to continue looking. Sadness and fear were too overwhelming, too immobilizing. He couldn't be overwhelmed right now. He needed to be focused. He needed to find her.

What would he do if something happened to her? How could he get by without his partner, his best friend? No, he refused to think about it. He would find her before anything could happen to her. As soon as she was about to die he would swoop in and save her. He'd break down the door and get his shot off before Becker ever had the chance. He'd get there-just in the nick of time. He'd be the hero-he'd save the day. He had to. There was only one problem: he had no door to break down. Where the hell was she? He got in his car and started towards the station house unable to shake the helplessness.

Olivia's eyes met the barrel of Martin's gun. A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and her knees felt weak. She struggled just to stand. Oh God. This can't be happening. "Martin, listen to me, you don't have to this," she said softly. "There's still time." Elliot, where are you?

"No," he cried. "There's not. You don't want anything to do with me. I'm disgusting. I'm scum." You're right.

Olivia stepped closer hoping to ease the gun away from him. "No, that's not true. I want to know you Martin."She swallowed hard and lied, "I want to know my father." Oh God, I can't believe I'm actually saying this. He's never gonna believe me. Please let this work. She took another step.

"Why would you want to know me after what I did?" Martin was shaking with sobs. Great, now he's crying. "Why?" He took a few steps back, his hand still raised. "I tried so hard to get my life in order and I never could. Why would you want to know me?" I don't, I want to live.

"Because you're my father," Olivia answered. Okay, now I think I'm gonna be sick. "I have your eyes," she told him suppressing the urge to vomit.

Martin's arm dropped and a small smiled spread across his face. "You do," he said proudly. Olivia relaxed. Good. Oh, thank God.

"Yeah, now come on," Olivia urged gently reaching for the gun. That's it. It's over.

Just then Martin's head twitched and he stepped back from her. "No!" he screamed. "You're lying! You're lying!" The sick feeling returned in her stomach. Damn it! I was so close.

"No I'm not."

He shook his head furiously. "Yes. Yes you are." Okay, yes I was. "I could see it in your face. I make you sick." Yes. You do. "You hate me." Yes. I do. He wiped his eyes with the back of his gun holding hand. "I'm sorry I hurt you Olivia. I'm so sorry." He brought his arm down and lined up the barrel of the gun with Olivia's head. "Everything will be alright now." No.

Martin's finger moved slightly, his hand dropping at the last second. The sound ripped through the abandoned building like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Olivia felt the burning metal tear through her insides. Her eyes filled with tears, her knees buckled and she silently fell to the floor clutching her stomach. Warm blood seeped through her fingers and shock turned into pain. It took a moment to register with her. It hurt, she knew that much immediately. The room started to spin and the sick feeling returned. She gasped for air and looked up at her father one last time as if to ask why.

Their eyes met just as he put the gun to his head. She wanted to scream out for him to stop but she couldn't find the words. He mouthed the word sorry as he pulled the trigger once again. Olivia turned away in horror as her father's lifeless body collapsed in front of her.

She knew why he lowered his arm at the last second. He wanted to give her a chance. She saw it in his face. A shot to the head and she was dead for sure. A stomach wound she could fight through.

Olivia fought the urge to close her eyes. Everything kept spinning. She needed to remain conscious. Elliot, where are you? With one hand pressed firmly against her bleeding stomach wound she painstakingly dragged herself across the wooden boards to find her phone. When she reached it she took it in her hand and turned onto her back with a cry of pain. It was unbearable. With bloody fingers she dialed 911. She struggled to keep herself awake. She recalled the street corner they pulled up to and once she told the operator her location she let her eyes fall shut. Come on Elliot. Hurry, please. Then it was black.

TBC...