A/N: Although I hate it when people take forever to update stories I like, I find myself doing that very thing. Oh well; I don't think it would go over very well if I told my English teacher that I couldn't do my transcendentalist project because I had to write fanfiction…

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"I'm not supposed to be scared of anything

But I don't know where I am

I wish that I could move but I'm exhausted

And nobody understands how I feel

I'm trying hard to breathe now but there's no air in my lungs

There's no one to talk to, and the pain is making me numb

Try to hold this under control

You can't help me 'cause nobody knows" –"Changes" 3 Doors Down

Manhattan Special Victims Unit

October 2nd

Olivia handed Anita Vasquez a thermos of coffee. She hoped that it would be better quality than the coffee Elliot gave her the day before. Anita straightened the collar of her business shirt, leaned back in her chair, and sighed, her eyes filled with tears. "Dios mio," she murmured. "What kind of sick bastard would do something like this to my little girl?"

"We're trying to find that out," Olivia said kindly. "My partner is talking with Inocenta right now."

Anita nodded. "Detective Stabler reminds her of her daddy."

"Does Inocenta have a father?"

Anita shook her head. "No. He died a couple of years ago in a car accident." She frowned indignantly. "And even if he was alive, there is no way in hell that he would do something like this. Inocenta meant the world to him."

"We ask everyone that same question," Olivia assured her. The woman sipped her coffee, tears streaming down her face.

Inocenta finished coloring her picture and looked up at Elliot. They were sitting in the 'family room', the room where the SVU detectives interview children.

Elliot tilted his head to one side to get a better view of the drawing. "You're a very good artist," he said. "Can you tell me about your picture?"

She pointed at two crudely drawn yet colorful people, one tall and one short. "That's me and my mom," she explained. Elliot noticed that the woman was crying, but at the same time smiling through her tears. She was resting her hand on the girl's shoulder protectively. The little girl was frowning. He noticed that her hands weren't shown. He gestured at the top of the drawing. "Who's the man in the cloud?" he asked.

"That's my daddy," Inocenta said. "Mommy said he's up in heaven playing Go Fish with the angels." She smiled proudly. "He taught me how to play."

The man was smiling down at his daughter, but his face was covered in tears too. "Why is everyone in your picture crying?" Elliot asked.

"My daddy is sad because he can't be with me, and my mommy is always sad." She pulled her knees up to her chest, and her chin began to quiver.

I hate doing this, Elliot thought. He took a deep breath. "Inocenta? Can you tell me about the bad man?"

The little girl began to rock back and forth. "I don't want to. No quiero."

"Sweetie? You have to. I won't let him hurt you anymore, I promise."

"He's a monster. He has long fingers, and-and-and, he has sharp teeth." She buried her face in her lap. "Make him go away, make him go away," she repeated over and over again.

"What did he do to you?" Elliot asked.

Inocenta burst into tears and began screaming in Spanish. She flung her self at Elliot. "No quiero! No quiero!"

The detective stroked her hair, although physical contact with victims is generally frowned upon by the department. "Shh, shh," he whispered. "It's okay, it's okay, you're safe now."

"He said, he said, I'm never going to be safe again. He said he's always watching me."

"Who is he?" he inquired, still not letting go of the hysteric little girl.

"He's Rita's friend. His name is Mike." Her body went limp. "He made me say his name."

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As Elliot made his way down the tunnel, he suddenly heard screaming. "Stop hurting me!" a girl was shouting.

Elliot raced towards the sound of her voice. "I'm coming!" he called.

He reached the screaming girl. Her long black hair hung lank and lifeless over her face. "Are you alright?" he asked. He looked around and saw no one else in the vicinity. "I thought I heard you screaming."

She raised her head. Her eyes met his. He shuddered at how dead and cold they were. She reached a pale hand and grasped his wrist in an iron grip. H struggled to break free, but the girl wouldn't let go. "Who are you?" he exclaimed.

"I am the victims that you couldn't save, who's lives were made worse by your botched attempt at a rescue." Her eyes bore into his, her gaze almost as painful as her grip on his arm. Elliot clawed at her hand futilely. "Let me go!" he demanded.

She laughed cruelly. "Let me go, damn it!"

"I can't," she sneered. "For I am inside you. I am the guilt that plagues you constantly, the guilt that keeps you up at night. No one understands, do they?"

Elliot sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat. He looked over at his alarm clock. It read 3:13 AM. He rubbed his hand across his forehead. He looked at his arm, where a series of nail indentations were in a row. He lay back down, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, his cell phone rang. It was Olivia.

"Elliot, you need to get to Bellevue hospital right now," she shouted into the phone. "Something bad just happened."

"Shit," he muttered. "I'll be right there." Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the girl from his dream lurking in the shadows. He blinked, and it was gone, leaving him only with a strong feeling of dread."

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A/N: Hmm, maybe someone died? Or maybe someone got hit by a car? Or maybe… well, I'll just let you all find out next time I update. holds up hands Don't hurt me; it's not my fault I'm the only person that likes cliffhangers.