Influenza

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: See previous chapter.

Spoilers: "Doubt" in this particular chapter. But, basically everything that's happened so far.

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He had just dumped a stack of paperwork in his outbox when his cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID before answering he was surprised to see Olivia's number flash across the screen. Pressing answer he put the phone to his ear, "This is Elliot."

Her voice sounded forced and shaky, "Elliot ... it's me." There was a pause and she started speaking again, "I'm ... ah ... not doing so well. It's hard to stand ... I can barely walk." She stopped talking and waited for his answer.

"Do you need help?" He asked, his worry rising. "Do you want me to come over?"

"Yes," she said in a meek voice. "...Please, come."

He nodded, although he knew she would not know he had done so. "I'll be there as soon as possible, Olivia. You just ... sit down or something, take some Tylenol, anything."

"I'll ... yeah," she said wearily. "Ok. Just ... hurry."

He hung up without saying goodbye and grabbed his coat, headed for Cragen's office. Knocking on the door he poked his head inside, "Captain, Olivia just called ... apparently she's gotten worse. She didn't sound good ... at all, I think she needs help."

He nodded, "Go on, but take some files with you."

"Sure," he backed his head out of the office and shut the door. Making a quick stop back at his desk he grabbed a few files from the large pile that still remained in his in box and said goodbye to Munch and Fin.

"We're you goin'?" Fin asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"To check on Olivia," he called over his shoulder as he walked away, leaving no time for them to ask any other questions.

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Since she lived close by the precinct it didn't take him that long to get to her apartment. Forgoing the elevator he ran up the stairs, two by two, occasionally skipping three in one leap. By the time he reached her floor he was gasping for air, but he didn't let it slow him down, he ran down the hallway as fast as he could and skidded past her apartment, backtracking and banging on the door. "Olivia," he called out to her, "It's me ... it's Elliot."

A groan came from the other side; "It's ... unlocked." She managed in a meek voice, then broke into a fit of coughs.

Turning the knob on the door he pushed it open and stepped inside. What he saw worried him to no end, Olivia was sitting on the floor, against the wall that the telephone was on, her eyes shut tightly. As he walked over to her they opened a little bit and she groaned again, trying to get off of the floor.

"Let me," Elliot told her as he grabbed hold of her arms, gently pulling her off of the ground. He led her back to the couch and laid her down, picking the afghan up from the floor and covering her with it. "What hurts?" He asked, his hand placed against her forehead so he could estimate her temperature. From what he could tell it was very high.

"Everything," she moaned. "Moving, breathing, talking ... everything hurts."

"Do you have a thermometer?" He asked, running a hand through her hair comfortingly.

"In the bathroom," she mumbled, her eyes slowly shutting again.

"Alright," he replied softly. "I'm going to go get it, ok?"

She gave him a half-nod, her eyes fully shut, and he ran off to the bathroom to find it. After about five minutes he was back in the living room and taking her temperature. 30 seconds later it beeped and he nearly gasped.

"You've broken 102," he told her. "When was the last time you took any medicine?"

"This morning," she groaned, turning in a painful manner. "Some Dayquil."

"Ok ... where is your medicine at?"

She opened her mouth to reply but all that came out was coughs, wet, raspy, painful sounding coughs. It seemed to him that if she continued to cough at such an excessive force she would be short a lung. After the coughing subsided she looked at him through heavy eyes and managed to get a single word out, "...Bathroom."

Nodding he left her side again, to search through the bathroom for some medicine. He looked for a few minutes and managed to get out three different kinds of medicine, all he had left to do was figure out which would be better for her to take at that time. There was Tylenol PM, which would help her fever and help her sleep, Advil Cold Sinus, which might help with the fever a bit, but would probably have more effect if she were sneezing rather than coughing. Lastly, there was a bottle of extra-strength cough syrup. After reading the labels he decided that he would give her the cough-syrup first and then after about half an hour he would give her the Tylenol, in-between that time frame he would heat up the soup he had made earlier and get some food in her.

Making his way back into the living room he found her dozing on the couch, which didn't surprise him as much as the fact that she had no shirt on did. Thankful that she was wearing a bra he sat down on the couch next to her and gently shook her awake. When she didn't stir he called out to her, "Olivia... You need to wake up, Olivia."

Her eyes blinked open slowly, then shut again. She mumbled something incoherent and turned to face the back of the couch.

Sighing to himself he shook her again, "Olivia ... wake up."

Turning back around she forced her eyes open, "...Hot..." she mumbled thickly.

"I gather," he replied with a smile. In her feverish state she must have discarded her shirt to cool down, "How about I go get you a tank top to wear, ok?"

She looked down at her bare stomach, not even bothering to be embarrased. "...Mm'k."

Setting the medicine down he took another trip down the hallway in her apartment, this time going into her bedroom rather than the bathroom. He rummaged through the armoire and found a plain white tank top for her to wear, then brought it back out to the living room and helped her into it.

"Alright, Olivia." He continued, "I've got to get this medicine into you, ok?" She nodded. "Ok then, I'm going to get a spoon, I'll be right back." He was thankful that at least this time he knew where to look, it only took him a few seconds to get a spoon the right size for the dosage required. After he gave her the medicine he had to keep her awake long enough to get some food into her and then the Tylenol PM's, from her current state it was going to be a hard task.

He left her lying on the couch for a few minutes while he heated up the Roman Noodles and got her a glass of ice water, upon request. Since she was still complaining of the heat he grabbed a washcloth and wet it down, so he could place it over her forehead in hopes of breaking the fever after she ate a little.

After managing to get about one-eight of the noodles down she had enough and had to lay back down. With the wet washcloth over her forehead she seemed to complain less, but Elliot could tell she was just coherent enough to have a little bit of her stubbornness break through the fever, and the less complaining was her independence kicking in. "How do you feel?" he asked, pressing the back of his hand against her cheeks and neck to get an estimate of how hot she was.

"...Better," she managed to get out. Elliot could tell she was lying to him.

"Um-hmm." Taking the thermometer he pushed down her chin and stuck it in her mouth and underneath her tongue. A few seconds later it beeped, "You're still at 102.2," he informed her. "Nice try, though."

Her eyes opened slight and she scowled at him, but made no other remarks. After he checked his watch he figured that it was as good time as any for her to take the Tylenol, he had just wanted the cough medicine to start working before he tried to get her to sleep, and it seemed to be working already. It was a little hard for her to swallow the pills, so in the end he had to mash them up and let them dissolve in a little bit of water. Of course, it didn't taste very good, but it got the job done. He figured that it would be easier for him to watch her if she was asleep on the couch so he didn't move her into the bedroom, but instead he had her get off of the couch for a few minutes before the pills kicked in so that he could pull out the couch/bed. She protested, but once he explained that she would be more comfortable she allowed him to do so.

Fifteen minutes after that she was passed out on the bed, face down in a pillow. The way she was sleeping scared him so he turned her so that she was sleeping on her side, figuring that with her throat being as bad as it was he shouldn't have her on her back in case she started coughing again. He sat on the bed next to her and turned on the television, flipping through the various stations of soap operas and infomercials until he got to the CourtTV station.

He grumbled to himself when he saw what the various attorneys and prosecutors were arguing over, Scott Peterson. Elliot didn't understand why the jury didn't just give him the death penalty and call it a day, the man obviously didn't deserve life, and it wasn't like the death penalty is automatic, he would be tortured in prison for a couple of years before they finally strapped him down. That way, both sides of the penalty got what they wanted.

It was only ten minutes after he started watching the TV when he started to feel drowsy. He hadn't been sleeping much lately; work had kept them all busy. Especially Olivia, he figured that her lack of sleep and malnutrition for the past weeks had something to do with her susceptibility to whatever virus she had come down with. Not that he was much better off, but he had gotten his flu shot, if that's even what she had. Glancing over at Olivia he saw that she hadn't moved an inch from the last time he checked on her, nearly twenty minutes prior, she was out and she would stay that way for many hours.

His watch read twenty-two past one, the PM pills were supposed to last for a good seven to eight hours and she had been out for nearly half an hour to forty five minutes. He began to flip through the channels in an attempt to stay awake, but to no avail. Within fifteen minutes after looking at his watch he was fast asleep, the TV still on spitting out phone numbers for the newest fitness machine.

He didn't wake up until nearly three hours later.

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A cough was what ultimately brought him out of his sleep, though he didn't realize it right away. At first, while he was coming out of his sleepy-state, he had figured that it was just the television that had caught his attention. But, when another cough came from his immeadiate right he knew that must have been what had wakened him.

She was sleeping on her back, all the covers that she had once been covered with in a heap at the bottom of the bed. He sat up in the bed just as she coughed again and rolled onto her side. After waiting for a few minutes he was satisfied that the coughing had stopped and there was no need to wake her up and force more cough syrup down.

Sliding off the bed he searched around for the remote control, somewhere in the course of the three-hour's he had been asleep one of them must have kicked it off the bed. Picking it up off the floor he turned the television off, then threw the remote back on the bed next to Olivia, who was still sleeping soundly. Thank God for that.

Glancing down at this watch he was surprised to find that it was already almost four-thirty. Sighing to himself he looked around the room, wondering where he had left his cell-phone, he spied it on the coffee table next to the television and made his way over to it. There was one missed call. Funny, he hadn't heard it ringing. He must have really been tired.

After checking the caller ID he saw that it had been Kathleen who had called him, a stab of guilt hit him as he remembered his promise to her earlier that morning. Sighing again he dialed her cell and waited for her to pick up, she answered after the third ring.

"Hey, daddy," she greeted cheerfully. No doubt she was expecting this to be a call of confirmation.

"Kathleen..." he began, the guilt causing his stomach to churn. "Honey, I've got some bad news."

"Not again," she sighed. "What is it this time?"

"It's not what you think, Kathleen. I would love for you and the twins to stay with me tonight, but Olivia is sick. Really sick. She needs somebody to watch her and the captain's already given me today off in order to do so. I can't leave her alone, she's in a bad way." He hoped she would understand his explanation.

"Can't somebody else do it, daddy?" she begged. "We haven't seen you in a week."

"I know, baby. But you know Munch, he gets paranoid whenever somebody sneezes and Fin has to be at night-court later on."

"What about that new ADA?" she asked, "I thought you said she was nice."

"She is, Kathleen. But I doubt she's going to want to drop whatever plans she's got to take care of a co-worker. Maybe if Alex..." he trailed off, forgetting that Kathleen still thought Alex was dead.

The other end grew quiet, "I understand." The disappointment in her voice caused him to cringe. "I'm not sure if the twins will, but I understand. Mom's not going to be happy about this."

Elliot held back a snort, "I'm sure she won't. Please explain to the twins why you can't stay tonight. As soon as I have the free time I'll spend it all with you three. Trust me, even if it's a school day. You can afford to play hooky one day, right?"

"Yeah," Kathleen replied with another sigh. "I guess so. Tell Olivia I hope she feels better."

"I will, hon. I'll call you later," a cough got his attention and he turned around to check on Olivia. She was still lying on her side. "Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye, daddy." She said before hanging up.

Setting the phone back down he grimaced; it was bad enough that with their current arrangements he only saw his kids once a week on average, but skipping a week was something that he had done before, due to work. It wasn't fun. Not only did he miss spending time with his children but he got an earful from Kathy, who, for somebody who had vowed to cut off all ties from him, called a lot. The calls were never good though, each time she did there wasn't something new to fuss about.

Where had things gone wrong? One second he had been a devoted husband and a loving father and now he was separated from his wife- against his will- and barely got to see his kids. He could blame it on work, if he was the type who made excuses for him self. But, when it came down to it, the separation was his fault. There were plenty of times where he could have come home, but instead stayed at work or went out with Munch, Fin, and Olivia. More so, when he did go home he spent the majority of his time asleep and then the rest of it helping Dickey and Elizabeth with their homework, rarely did he have time alone with Kathy.

When had everything become so complicated?

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A/N: I'll understand if you don't like the ending (of this chapter- the story isn't over yet), I'm not that thrilled with it myself. But anyway, I do realize that Scott Peterson's sentencing is already over with. But, when I wrote this chapter it wasn't yet ... so, yeah. I'm too lazy to go back and change things, so we'll just say that the timeline is a little slow in this story. Works for me.

So, please review! And, thank you to everybody who already has! You guys are awesome!