Or Just Look Like One

by xfreelifex

Did you read Like Trees in November? Things are never as they seem...It's a sequel, it's a crossover, it's a Carby, it's EO, and it's got more twists than you could ever imagine. COMPLETE

9. Here and There

I'M BACK!

A/N: No - still not mine. Not even after I went to debate camp for three weeks...(which was a lot of fun, in case you were wondering :D)

A/N: Yes, I am evil. I know you all think that. :P But I am updating a day earlier than I told you I was going to, so be happy for that, people.Thanks for my wonderful reviewers from last time: SVU101, KaydenceRei, Neela149, onetreefan, Alicat Sanders, XxChelly, Unconscious-Regret, iheartsvueo, AliasCSINYFriendsER, Carby Lives On, Odakota, BrittanyLS, LIVE FOR MUSIC, WuHaoNi, and Kelly of the midnight dawn. Everyone, enjoy this next chapter and review! Oh - and I'm operating on four hours of sleep here, so if there are mistakes, I am sorry. :)

This chapter is for Kelly, Kay, Cilla (Estrelita), Katrina, (Pure), Mandi, and LIVE FOR MUSIC for keeping in touch with me over my long break. Thanks guys; you are all awesome:)

Olivia felt herself take a sharp intake of breath upon seeing him point his gun at her. She knew all too well she had no weapon to counter it. She therefore sat still, trying not to anger him to the point of pulling the trigger.

"Michael," said Olivia, trying to calm him. "Michael, this is a mistake."

"Mistake?" he scorned, laughing. "I see no mistake. You obviously are not obedient enough to fulfill my desires without this. Now you see, Detective Benson, this is how I play the game. And I think this is an ideal time for my second question."

Olivia didn't answer. Bloomberg continued. "So, my second question, and the real reason I brought you here, was to find out this: Where is Abby?"

Olivia exhaled and looked him straight in the eye. "I don't know," she said firmly, and then added, "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"I think you're lying!" Bloomberg shrieked. He took a step closer to Olivia.

"Why don't you drop your weapon, and we can work this out?" she suggested.

"I don't think so, Olivia," Bloomberg replied harshly. "You tell me where she is, or I'll kill you!" He advanced another step closer to her. Olivia felt her pulse quicken.

"Michael, surely you must have realized I can't tell you where she is if I am dead."

Bloomberg smirked. "But as you just said, Olivia, you wouldn't tell me if you did. That's too bad princess, I gave you your chance. But you wouldn't take it. You know something most inconvenient for you about this situation? It doesn't matter to me if you're dead or alive! I don't need you to get what I want!"

Olivia's frightened eyes widened as the roar of a gun shot exploded in her ears.

Bloomberg laughed manically, his harsh tones echoing around the empty room. "That'll be you if you don't tell me!" he cried.

Olivia felt her heart rate accelerate. Bloomberg had aimed the gun at the ceiling and had shot straight up at the last second, effectively managing to shower Olivia in ceiling debris. She looked directly at him, forcing herself to remain collected, not to show him how shaken she was.

"I will never tell you," she replied coldly, as evenly as she could. "Put the gun down," she added.

Bloomberg laughed harshly again, fingering his weapon delicately as he spoke. "My dear, sweet Olivia," he taunted, "I don't want to hurt you."

Olivia nodded. "Then put the-"

"But I shall!" Bloomberg exclaimed triumphantly. He pressed the gun to her temple. "Tell me!" Angrily, he jabbed it to her head again. "Now!"

"I don't know where she is," answered Olivia. "She's not even in New York. Abby lives in Chicago-"

"Liar," hissed Bloomberg. "Abby is no longer in Chicago; she has returned to New York by now, I am sure."

"Why-" began Olivia.

Bloomberg smirked. "Jennifer is dead," he said. He grinned manically. "And of course when poor Abby heard that, she'd be rushing back to New York, probably with that loser doctor of a husband. Now tell me, Olivia; where might Abby go when she comes to New York, hm?"

Olivia stared at him. "You'll never get away with his."

"Undoubtedly, I shall," remarked Bloomberg nonchalantly. "But let us entertain the notion anyway…Why not?"

"Because," said Olivia carefully, "the force is all out looking for me. And when they find me, they'll kill you."

Bloomberg's grin widened. "I'd love to see them try."

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Elliot, Carter, and Huang returned from the roof quickly, eager to tell Cragen about Huang's analysis. They reached the squad room and rushed over to Cragen's office.

The door was open and they entered without knocking. Cragen looked up when he saw them. He eyed them gravely. "What can I do for you?" he asked quietly, as Elliot, Carter, and Huang all took seats.

"I believe that Olivia is alive," Huang began. Cragen's eyes immediately widened and he looked on with much interest. Huang continued, "I think Bloomberg may be using her as bait."

"Bait?" Cragen repeated slowly. "For Abby?" Huang nodded. Carter felt his stomach clench at the thought.

There was suddenly a knock on the door. "Come in," Cragen said wearily. The door swung open to reveal Casey, her face pale and her eyes swimming with tears.

"Is it true?" she whispered, looking carefully at each man in the room. "Is what Abby said true?"

"We don't know, Casey," Huang said softly, looking at the ADA sadly.

But only one word of what Casey had said seemed to have registered with Carter. "Abby!" he said suddenly. "Where is she? Is she all right?"

Casey nodded slowly. "She's with Munch." Carter excused himself with a curt nod at Cragen. Casey sat down in Carter's now empty seat.

Cragen sighed. "I suppose Abby told you 'Jennifer is dead,' am I right?" Casey nodded.. "Dr. Huang believes he may be using Olivia as bat to get to Abby."

Casey bit her lip and looked at Huang, who nodded slightly. "How does he plan on getting her, exactly?" she asked the psychiatrist.

Huang was silent for several moments as he considered the question. "I think," he said at last, "that he either expects Olivia to tell him where Abby is," he paused, "or he wants you to come find him because he thinks Abby will be with you."

Elliot, who had been silent this entire time, suddenly cleared his throat and spoke. "So," he said quietly. "He expects us to sacrifice Abby for Liv?"

Huang shook his head. "I'm not sure, Elliot. I don't think he's looking for a trade off."

Cragen cleared his throat. "Let's not worry about this until we actually find a location. Huang, do you have any ideas-"

Another knock on the door interrupted the captain. "Come in," he called. A delivery boy with a bouquet of roses entered. All three men felt their hearts sink.

"This bouquet is for the entire Special Victims Unit," the delivery boy said uncertainly. "One of your detectives told me to bring them to the captain," he said, nodding at Cragen. Cragen smiled weakly back. "You must've really done someone a good deed there."

Cragen cringed. "Thank you," he said shortly. The delivery boy left, closing the door behind him.

"There's a note," murmured Elliot, his voice full of dread. He took it from the side of the flower pot. He opened it, feeling sickened. His eyes widened as he read the note through quickly.

"What the hell does that mean?"

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Olivia sat on the bed, breathing heavily as the door closed behind Bloomberg. Having been told to stay on the bed at gun point, she was much relieved when Bloomberg finally left the room, taking the gun with him.

Even though she was no longer at gun point, Olivia had to admit that her situation still looked pretty grave. Even if there were people out there looking for her, she was still uncertain of their ability to find her in time. Bloomberg's comment about not caring if she was dead or alive had scared Olivia more that anything; she knew he may realize soon that she was probably better dead than alive anyway. Olivia shuddered at the thought.

Olivia closed her eyes, deciding to get some sleep to clear her mind so she could think more clearly. She lay awake for awhile, thinking about her situation, worrying about Abby, Carter…Elliot…Perhaps Olivia had finally dozed off, her worries having turned into her dreams, or maybe her preoccupations had kept her awake, but next thing she knew, the lock clicked from the outside and the door swung open. Bloomberg entered; Olivia was relieved to see that he was not holding a gun.

"So," he said slowly as he walked towards her. Olivia stared defiantly back at him. "I have an idea," Bloomberg announced. "A game, if you will."

Olivia only nodded, waiting to see where this was going.

"How good are you at solving riddles, Detective Benson?" Bloomberg asked.

Olivia tilted her head frowning. "Depends," she answered shortly.

Bloomberg nodded. "Fair enough…How good is your unit at solving riddles, then?"

Olivia thought quickly, weighed her choices. She could say that they weren't good at riddles…but then Bloomberg would probably give them one…or she could say they were very good at solving riddles…in which case, Bloomberg probably wouldn't want to give them one. "They're very good with riddles," she said confidently.

Bloomberg grinned; Olivia felt her heart sink. "Good; they'll be needing those skills." He walked towards the door. "I already know what I will say…genius isn't it?" Olivia didn't respond. "I will, of course, tell them where we are – not discreetly, but that will be the clue. Then again," he added to Olivia, "you already know, don't you?" He swung the door open wider, giving her a view of a hallway.

At first it took her awhile to recognize the dark hall, but then it registered in her mind. She gasped as the realization hit her, feeling sickened at the very though. No, she thought, repulsed, it couldn't be…

Yes, Olivia," said Bloomberg, smile widening as he saw the recognition in her eyes. "Welcome back."

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"What the hell does that mean?" Elliot repeated again. He was now standing in the bull pen of the squad room, surrounded by Cragen, Huang, Casey, Munch, Fin, Carter, and Abby, all of whom were gazing intently at the blackboard, upon which Elliot had copied:

a muRderer will read This

and a murdeRer i will Be

unless you understand tHis note –

One clue you gEt, not tHree:

jEnnIfer iS aLiVe

"And you're sure that's exactly what the note said, right, Elliot?" Munch asked him.

"I'm positive," Elliot answered impatiently. "You think I would intentionally-"

"Children!" interrupted Cragen loudly. "Let's focus on finding Olivia, shall we? Now, we have the answer in front of us. Let's figure this out. First line," he began, pointing to the first line of text. "'A murderer will read this.' Who is that indicating?"

The group fell silent. "Maybe he's referring to one of you shooting an armed suspect/" Casey suggested.

Huang shook his head. "This is more personal than that. Look at the word he chooses: murderer. That sounds like more of an accusation and much more serious than one of you shooting an armed suspect."

"It's me," Abby said suddenly. "He thinks I murdered his wife. He must know we're in New York," she said, indicating herself and Carter.

Cragen nodded. "So he knows you're in New York." He looked uncertainly at Huang.

The psychiatrist looked uneasy. "I think he's telling us in this poem where Olivia is. He may be setting a trap."

Cragen's worried expression deepened. He cleared his throat. "Let's not worry about the trap just yet. For now, let's figure out the location. Anything interesting or revealing about this note?"

"He uses 'Jennifer' to describe Olivia," Abby noted. Cragen wrote her observation on the board.

"He says 'A murderer I will be,'" Elliot said. "He indicates future tense and gives us the condition of finding Liv to stop him." Cragen nodded.

"Some of his letters are capitalized," Munch offered. "Coincidence? I think not."

"John is right," Huang said. "Bloomberg is making some letters more prominent than others by capitalizing them. I think that the clue is hidden within the letters."

Cragen nodded, and then wrote down the list of capital letters:

RTRBODOHOEHEISLV

"Okay," he said when he had finished. "What do you make of this?"

"An anagram," said Fin. "He's mixed all the letters up."

Huang nodded. "He's not going to make this easy for you. He may even have used some of the letters twice."

Casey frowned. "I don't think so," she said. "He has multiple O's, E's, and R's already."

Carter, who had been silently thinking, finally spoke. "What is the 'one clue' he's giving us? Is it the last line or the anagram?"

"Both!" exclaimed Elliot suddenly. "The last line forms an anagram on its own: the letters form the word 'lives.'"

"But who 'lives'?" Casey interjected. "'Lives' is a verb, not a noun."

Abby's eyes suddenly widened. "Liv," she murmured. "You were right, George," she said, indicating Huang. "He does use some letters twice: the line should read 'Liv lives.'"

There were nods of comprehension all around at Abby's comment. Fin suddenly frowned. "That's great, Abby, but what are the rest of the letters for?"

"The location," Elliot said. "The rest of the letters will probably tell us her location."

Huang nodded. "I think that's right." He frowned, immersed in possibilities of what word the remaining eleven letters formed.

"Bingo!" cried Munch as he threw down his pen. He had been sitting in silence for the last five minutes looking for potential anagrams. "I have a word here. Mind you, it may not be right…"

"Let's see it," said Elliot quickly, handing Munch a piece of chalk. Munch walked up to the blackboard and began taking letters from Cragen's list, crossing them out as he used them. The rest of the group watched in awe as Munch formed the word that had searched so hard to find.

B…R…O…T…H…E…R…H…O…O…D…

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"You're sick," Olivia whispered. Her voice was constricted in disgust.

Bloomberg merely laughed. "The perfect place, isn't it? It had been so long since it was last inhabited-"

"Shut up!" Olivia yelled at him. "Show some respect!"

Bloomberg's grin suddenly disappeared, replaced by a menacing look. He looked at Olivia through narrowed, angry eyes. "Don't' you dare take that tone with me, you bitch."

Olivia said nothing, but simply glared at him. Bloomberg slapped her across her face. The pain brought tears to her eyes.

"You're going to get a hell of a lot more where that came from if you don't start using some respect around here!" Bloomberg threatened her.

Olivia blinked, trying to numb the pain in her cheek and prevent her tears from falling at the same time. Bloomberg laughed cruelly.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" He slapped her again. This time, tears really did fall from Olivia's eyes. She felt them sting her protesting cheek as they ran down her face.

"Aw, I made poor, baby 'Livia cry," Bloomberg taunted in a mock-baby voice. His laughter echoed in Olivia's ears. "Poor, baby 'Livia," he continued, sneering. "All alone with big, nasty Mikey and no Elliot to protect her-"

Olivia had heard enough. In a cry of rage, she leapt up from the bed and shoved Bloomberg aside. Sprinting to the door, she had almost reached it when she felt Bloomberg grab her and hurl her back against the wall. She made contact with its hard surface with a sickening thud. Bloomberg pushed her up against the wall; Olivia was unable to move. Her head was spinning from hitting the wall at full speed. She suddenly felt a sharp jab at the center of her chest. She looked down and was hit by a wave of horror when she saw that Bloomberg was holding a gun. Pinned against the wall, she was unable to do anything but stare at Bloomberg, utterly terrified.

"You have defied me one too many times, Olivia." Bloomberg's voice was no longer a mock-baby voice. Now it was dripping with hatred and rage. "I should have carried out my threat from the beginning: I don't need you to get what I really want. I'm going to kill you, Olivia Benson, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Perhaps the blow to her head had altered her thinking; perhaps she had realized it may well be the only way out; but whatever the reason, Olivia suddenly found herself kissing Bloomberg as though her life depended on it (which, admittedly, it probably did).

The effect was almost immediate: Bloomberg's grip on her relaxed, although Olivia had other intentions. She tried to clear her head, think straight, but the pain was still intense. Bloomberg moaned as he parted Olivia's lips with his tongue. Bile rose in her throat, but she fought it down as she began to slowly snake her hands down to her chest where Bloomberg was still pressing the gun against her chest. As her hand drew closer, his hand suddenly shifted position, moving the gun to Olivia's left shoulder. With a small sigh of annoyance, she changed position and began moving her hand to her shoulder instead. Her fingers had just brushed Bloomberg's when he suddenly separated his mouth from hers, drawing back abruptly.

"Well, well, well," he taunted her as he aimed the gun at her again. "You've saved your ass this time, Olivia, just by being a slut. Don't you ever forget that, Detective Benson! That was a pretty tricky trick on your part, my dear. But you can't use that every time, princess, and next time you'll learn that the hard way. I'm going to give your SVU buddies-" he checked his watch "-until midnight, three hours from now, to solve my riddle and come and rescue you. If not-" Bloomberg tapped the gun. He left Olivia staring back at him blankly. He began heading towards the door. "Three hours," he reminded her. 'Sweet dreams."

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The word shined brightly on the blackboard as the assembled group looked at it in amazement. The word was so simple, and yet so hidden.

"Brotherhood," exhaled Elliot. "Great job, John."

Munch nodded humbly. "I don't know what it means, though. I thought it was supposed to describe a location?"

"Maybe it's a frat house," suggested Carter. "Perhaps he's keeping her on a campus of a university?"

Huang shook his head. "That's much too impersonal for him. He has kept this very personal; calling Abby a murderer, or calling Olivia 'Jennifer.' He wants to torture us because it makes him feel like he is in control, superior of us. If he can hurt us, it makes him stronger. He's keeping Liv somewhere that will hurt her or one of us emotionally because then he retains his power and superiority to weaken us." Huang hesitated, and then continued uncertainly. "'Brotherhood' must describe something – some kind of location – that is linked to us or Olivia…any ideas?"

The group fell silent, thinking of various locations, but nobody got very far. "Maybe," began Cragen, "we should start thinking or possible locations, and then we could see if any of them link to 'brotherhood'?"

There was a murmur of assent for this idea. Elliot took the chalk and wrote on the board "Serena's apartment." Cragen nodded gravely.

"Dear God, I hope not," he muttered.

"What about the motel crime scene?" suggested Casey. Elliot wrote down her suggestion underneath his.

"Apartment crime scene," Munch added. Abby cringed; Carter squeezed her hand gently.

"What about something linked to you, Elliot?" asked Fin. "We've got Liv and Abby up there…any place he would take her to hurt you?"

Elliot frowned, and then he shook his head slowly. "I don't think so…"

"No," Abby gasped. The group turned to look at her. She was staring at the board, her face transfixed in horror. "It – it – brotherhood – it's not referring to a specific location – it's – I think he's referring to the noun. Which means…" he voice trailed off, but the rest already knew where this was going.

"Which means," Elliot finished quietly, "that 'brotherhood' refers to the actually noun…in this case…Eric. He's keeping Olivia at Eric's apartment."

"An ideal location," murmured Huang. "He's found the ultimate way to inflict emotional pain…"

Elliot interrupted Huang's muse. "Let's go.

A/N: All right, so here we go. There are three more chapters to this story and they will all be up this week (depending on when inspiration strikes, LOL). Thanks again for reading and I hope you all enjoyed it and review!

-Color Esperanza (Colores, Essy, and Free)