A/N: Must I say it again? Not mine; not fair.

A/N: And just when I thought it couldn't get any better...21 reviews last week, guys! Another record! Shall we see if we can break it again? LOL Thanks to SVU101, Kelly of the midnight dawn, onetreefan, dramawitsvu17, MrsAbbyCarter, Cookie-ER, XxChelly, KaydenceRei, Odakota, Caia, Rosie, Unconscious-Regret (twice LOL), solciss1, writerbitch92, CarbyLivesOn, Neela149, WuHaoNi, AliasCSINYFriendsER, abby1, and unstoppablecheer16 for being the amazing people I call reviewers. Keep it up!

A/N: Couple of follow up and misc. things...I actually recieved the nicest surprise this week by making it into the orchestra I auditioned for (Rosie, your review last week was very nice; thank you!) so that really made me happy! I also had my last day of school today, so that's finally over and I can turn more attention to some beta-ing I have to do for a couple authors. Also, Neela149, SVU101, and unstoppablecheer16, you're very attentive, but as I've already said, Michael Bloomberg has no relation to the NYC mayor. I didn't even make the connection until Neela149 mentioned it in a review. Haha it's just kind of ironic...I'll stop babbling now because I know you all think I'm evil for leaving two cliffies last week...ENJOY!

Abby couldn't get the shrill cry of the monitor out of her head. The young woman was crashing on the table, but Abby no longer needed the monitors to tell her that. The atmosphere of the room was hectic, frantic, panicked. Doctors and nurses flew through the doors as the team tried to bring the woman back to life.

"V-fib!" Abby cried again. She tossed her ponytail from her face so she could see her patient better. Carter, who was standing next to her, narrowed his eyes as he looked on at the patient.

"Page Corday!" Carter ordered without looking up from the table.

Haleh hurried over to the phone to carry out the order. As she did so, Sam came bustling through the door dragging with her the shock paddles. Carter snatched them from her quickly. "Charge to 300!" he ordered. Sam obediently pressed the button. "Clear!" Two pairs of hand jumped quickly back from the patient, as Carter brought down the paddles to the woman's chest. All looked hopefully back at the monitor. No change.

"Charge again!" Carter called. Abby could feel the tension in the room increase as more time elapsed. Suddenly the door opened behind them and Dr. Elizabeth Corday joined the fray, all suited up in her blue surgical scrubs. She walked right alongside Carter with an air of business.

"Is this the GSW?" she asked.

Carter nodded. "Clear!"

"And she's not stable for transfer, is she, Carter?" Corday asked, watching the woman jolt up from the table and then back down.

Abby looked up at Carter, but he only looked at the monitor.. No change. "Okay, another round of epi – charge again!"

"Dr. Carter," said Corday sharply. "Might I speak to you outside a moment?"

Carter frowned deeply. "Abby, take over for me." Abby suddenly found the paddles thrust into her hands. She sighed as she looked at the monitor again.

"Clear!" she called as Carter exited the room with Corday. Trust Carter to be the one in trouble, she thought to herself. She pushed him aside and looked at the monitor again, though without any real conviction. Again, she saw no change.

"Charge again," she said, frustrated. Sam charged it again for her. Abby pressed the paddles down, frowning as she watched the woman jolt up from the table again.

"Abby," said Sam softly. "We should stop."

Abby shook her head, though she knew Sam was right. A gunshot wound to the lung that had damaged the heart had very minute chances of survival, even less than that, considering the woman wouldn't make it to surgery. There really was no hope. Abby sighed again, wiping her sweaty brow awkwardly with her arm. She looked out the window where she could just vaguely see the woman's husband conversing in serious tones with Carter.

"That's it," she said wearily, laying down the paddles. She looked grimly at the clock. "Time of death is 7: 23 PM."

Sam took the chart and jotted down the time. Abby was taking off her gloves slowly when the door behind her suddenly slammed open violently.

"You bitch!" he shrieked, looking directly at Abby. He rushed over to her, grabbing her roughly by the arm. "What the hell are you doing? Why did you give up?"

Abby was bewildered, but then something seemed to click. This was the woman's husband. "Sir," she said, as calmly as she could, though her voice was shaking in response to his hostile nature. "Sir I don't know what you're-"

"You've killed my wife, bitch!" he shouted. "I'll kill you!" He suddenly grabbed her throat, backing her against the wall. Abby couldn't breathe. She struggled against his strong grasp, but she couldn't resist it. Vaguely she could see Carter in the background yelling orders to Sam, though she seemed to be moving in slow motion. Abby looked into the eyes of her attacker instead. It was Richard; he was choking her, shaking her back and forth.

"You deserve this Abby!" he growled at her as he continued to choke her. Abby strained her lungs trying to breathe, but Richard would not let up. This was the part he loved; seeing her helpless before him. Abby already knew what was coming next; she'd had this nightmare so many times before. She waited for him to release her…waiting, waiting…

But Richard's face was fading, replaced by someone else's instead…"I'll kill you!" Michael Bloomberg screamed in her face. "And I'll never let you go until you're gone. Even when you think you've won…you've lost."

Abby eyes widened as the hand released her. She fell backward into the wall, plunging into darkness. She was falling…falling…someone was screaming…

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"Abby!"

Carter was instantly jerked awake by the sounds of her shrill screaming. Jumping to his feet from the couch upon which he had fallen asleep, he raced to the bedroom where he had laid her.

Abby was screaming on the bed. Carter ran over to her. Abby's eyes were open and streaming with tears. Carter wrapped his arms around her gently and rubbed her back. Abby's cries eventually subsided as she lay in her husband's arms.

"What happened, Abby?" asked Carter softly. "Abby? What's wrong, sweetie? Tell me, please. I'm always here for you."

"I know," Abby whispered. Her voice was hoarse and barely audible.

Carter kissed the top of her head, noting how warm it still was; the fever had yet to break. "I know you know."

"No..." said Abby. "No…you don't." Carter frowned and hugged her tighter to his body. He could feel her heart beneath his hand; it was beating rapidly.

"What do you know, Abby?"

"I know who the accomplice is."

Carter could've sworn his jaw dropped. "What?" he stammered out. "When – how – did you find out?"

"The dream," whispered Abby. "Richard never choked me…Michael Bloomberg did…"

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"Carter in yet?" asked Luka to nobody in particular.

"No; why?" answered Neela as she returned a chart and reached for another one at the desk.

"There's someone here who wants to speak with him," said Luka, gesturing to the phone.

"Well, take a message then," said Neela matter-of-factly as she selected a chart and walked away.

Luka rolled his eyes; he hated taking phone messages. He turned back to the receiver as Dr. Weaver walked up to the admit desk.

"Hey," said Luka as he put the phone down again. "Carter here yet?"

Weaver shook her head. "Abby's sick; Carter got Pratt and Lewis to cover their shifts." Weaver paused, and then asked, "Why?"

Luka gestured to the phone. "Urgent news from New York. Someone died."

Weaver frowned. "I'll take the message." She took the receiver from him as Luka took another chart and walked off to one of the exam rooms. "Yes, this is Dr. Weaver, I'm Dr. Carter's supervisor; what's the message?"

The raspy voice of a man was on the other end of the line. "Jennifer is dead."

Weaver let in a sharp intake of breath as her eyes widened. Jennifer is dead? But Jennifer's…Weaver froze at the realization.

"I'll – I'll let him know," she said. "May I ask who you are first?" she asked as an afterthought.

The caller laughed. "Anonymous tip." The line went dead.

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Carter groaned as he heard the phone ringing from somewhere in the house. Carefully, he slid himself from Abby's arms under which he had fallen asleep about an hour ago. Abby didn't stir as he quietly crept from the room to answer the persistent ringing.

"Hello?"

"John? It's Kerry," said Weaver, whom Carter presumed was on the other end of the line.

Carter frowned. "Is something…wrong?"

There was a hesitant pause on the end of the line. "We received an anonymous phone message for you…Jennifer is dead."

"Jennifer?" Carter was stunned. "As in-"

"That's what I think," said Weaver grimly. "Of course, we can't be sure…"

Carter smacked his forehead with his palm. "We have to go back to New York. Now."

Weaver paused, and Carter rather thought she was nodding as she considered the option. "Take as much time as you need."

Carter hung up the phone without a proper goodbye and rubbed his temple with his fingers. "We shouldn't have left," he murmured.

"Shouldn't have left where?"

Carter looked up. Abby was standing in the doorway with a blanket draped around hr shoulders. Carter walked over to her hesitantly.

"New York," he answered her quietly. "Olivia is dead."

Abby gasped, horrified. "It's Bloomberg," she whispered.

Carter nodded. "I have to go back – tonight!" He ran to their bedroom where he pulled out a suitcase and began throwing anything he could find into it. Abby followed him slowly, catching him as continued to tear apart their room in his haste.

"John," she said quietly, kneeling beside him. "John, stop, please." She took his hand. "There's nothing you can do."

"What do you mean there's nothing I can do, Abby?" he yelled back angrily. "I have to go back! I should never have left – we have to tell them about Bloomberg."

Abby shook her head. "You can't blame yourself, Carter."

Carter restrained himself with difficulty from uttering another retort. "You don't understand, Abby," he said in frustration. "They would do anything, anything to help you." He closed the suitcase with a satisfied bang. "And now it's our turn to return the favor."

Abby sighed; there was no way she could change Carter's mind. Though she didn't really want to return to New York, she knew she was equally worried about Olivia as he husband was. "I'm coming with you," she told him.

"You most certainly are not," answered Carter. "You're sick and I'm not going to let you put yourself in danger like that." He tossed the phone to her. "Call Sam."

"Carter!" Abby cried incredulously. "You're being ridiculous. I'm not going to stay here while you go and get yourself killed in New York!"

"I'm not going to get killed, Abby!" he shouted back at her. Abby looked up at the ceiling as tears started to spill from her deep brown eyes. Carter's expression softened as soon as he saw her crying. He walked over to her and pulled her close to him. "I promise you I won't get killed, Abby; I promise you. You don't have to worry."

"Yes, I do!" said Abby, pulling back from his embrace. "Think, John! What does this remind you of?"

Carter closed his eyes, already nodding. "Africa," he whispered. He opened his eyes to find Abby was crying again.

"You left for Luka just like you're leaving now for Olivia," said Abby quietly, looking at the floor.

"Abby," said Carter gently. "Africa is so much different that New York-"

Abby was already shaking her head. "I can't let you leave again." She lay her head down on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her slender form. "I can't live…if you don't come back."

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The plane took off slowly. Carter, who was personally feeling he had spent enough time on the cramped and stuffy interior of planes to last him a lifetime, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. He had managed to secure the last two seats on the latest flight to New York.

Abby was seated next to him, staring blankly out the window. There was little discussion about her accompanying him after she had brought up Africa, which was perhaps the biggest mistake of Carter's life, to say the least. Against his better judgment, he had allowed her to come with him, although he was not sorry she was there with him.

He took her hand as she continued to gaze out the window. "Are you okay, Abby?" he asked her quietly.

Abby didn't answer, but continued to stare at the dark sky outside. "Elliot know we're coming?"

Carter shook his head. "I only left a message…" Abby bit her lip. "What is it, Abby?"

Abby sighed. "Do you really think…Olivia is dead?"

Carter shrugged. "I don't really know."

"It's all my fault," whispered Abby, shaking her head.

Carter looked at her, confused. "No, it isn't. Why would you say that?"

"Can't you see, Carter? It begins and ends with me. First it was Richard, and now it's Bloomberg. And now – because I killed Bloomberg's wife – he's killed Olivia!"

"Whoa," said Carter, cutting off Abby. He took her hands in his. "First of all, Abby, you did not kill Sydney Bloomberg." Abby made a noise as if she was going to interrupt him, but Carter cut her off. "No – listen. Abby, Sydney died of a gunshot wound. We couldn't start her heart again. That has nothing to do with you; it wouldn't have made a difference if I was shocking her, or Corday was. You did nothing to cause her death.

"And secondly…we don't know what happened to Olivia. I refuse to believe it until the evidence is shoved under my nose. Abby, Elliot hasn't called us. I know he would've called us if something had happened…unless…"

"Unless something happened to him as well," Abby finished for him in a whisper. Carter bit his lip; that wasn't exactly the mood he was going for.

"Abby, don't worry yet," he said softly. "We're not there yet; we don't know what happened."

"What if you're next?" she whispered. "What if he has to hurt every person close to me just to see me suffer? How much more of this do I have to take?"

Carter shook his head and kissed Abby soothingly on the lips. "I don't know," he murmured against her cheek. "I'm so sorry, Abby…I don't know."

A/N: And...they're back in New York. You'll see more SVU next week, guys. Expect angst.

P.S. Unconscious-Regret...okay, so I ended up changing one thing on the outline because it fit better once I started writing. I want my cake now :)