Disclaimer: Olivia, Elliot and the gang do not belong to me; I can only take credit for the bad guys and the story/situation you are reading. Thank you, Dick Wolfe and company, for your wonderful programming.
Rated "M" for naughty language, because real cops have filthy mouths. Some graphic violence as the case develops.
Reviews: Please. Thank you for all of the reviews. I apologize for the delay on this chapter. I have been writing on a story with my own characters and became a little E/O sidetracked. The next two chapters should come quickly…
Chapter Four
The pictures were spread across the tabletop, juxtaposed into some sort of morbid collage. Her fingertips paused on the face of each little girl; Tammy Jensen, 10; Marcie Zumalt, 11; and Erin Lilly, 10. Death had brought serenity to their little features, but the killer had not been satisfied with the result. Foundation, powder, mascara and bright lipstick had been expertly applied post-mortem. The beautification of their faces clashed heavily with the devastation paid to their bodies. It was a shocking dichotomy – the artist and the butcher acting together on the rape and murder of these little girls.
Olivia sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair. The images beckoned her; over a dozen of the crime scene photos scattered her desk, all of them a puzzle of color that didn't quite fit. She had been going over them for an hour now, trying to find an answer to a question that hadn't been asked. Something was tugging at her, like an itch in the back of her brain. It had her focused now. Olivia was back into her detective frame of mind, thinking of the case and nothing else. It was a distinctive change from the past three days.
Olivia looked away from the photos to scan the emptiness of the 16th squad room, absently rubbing the back of her neck. Those days had felt like years. After seeing Elliot right after his surgery, she had left the hospital and never returned. Other than a follow up visit with her doctor, and the required interviews with Huang and IA, she had stayed in her apartment alone, lights off, spending most of the time in bed. She couldn't even remember eating anything, only getting out of bed to use the bathroom and occasionally shower. She let the answering machine screen her calls and ignored the doorbell when it rang. She didn't feel like interacting with anyone, preferring the quiet solitude and dreams of Elliot.
She had wanted to see him with an intensity that frightened her. Alone in the dark, lying nude on top of the comforter, Beretta M9 by her right hip, the memory of the shooting caressed her like a unfeeling lover. Nausea bit at her at the constant flashbacks of Elliot walking in front of her into the alleyway, both of them surprised to find Clarkson and his Smith & Wesson. And while the memory of killing the bastard was there, it was Elliot's paled face and bleeding body that flooded her daydreams and nightmares. Forever she would remember the crimson slickness of his blood between her fingers, the accompanying fear that he was going to die in her arms constricting her heart.
Olivia moved forward in her chair, resting her head in her hands and closing her eyes. This event had peeled away her denial, had exposed in painful clarity the lie she had repeated to herself for years. And she didn't want to think about it because she didn't want anything to change from how it had been. Elliot was her partner, her friend. There could be nothing else…
"Olivia."
She looked up. Cragen stood in the large doorway leading into the squad room, his frame made small by the emptiness around him. Olivia couldn't help but smile at the sight of her captain, his hands full with two boxes of Dunkin' Donuts and his mainstay large aluminum canister of coffee. She pushed out of her chair and walked over to him, taking the boxes and setting them down on the refreshment table by the overworked coffee maker.
"You're here early," Olivia spoke quietly, turning back to Cragen. She knew he was staring at her, taking in her appearance. She steadied her hands, trying to look nonchalant.
"I was going to say the same thing, Olivia. It's not even six in the morning. What are you doing here?"
"It's been three days, Cap." Olivia rubbed her neck, looking around the empty precinct before focusing back on Cragen. "IA has completed their investigation. Novak left a message on my machine stating as much. She said that one of their detectives will drop by a summary report to you this afternoon. Detective Gonzales already gave me back my Glock yesterday when I stopped by IA for the follow up."
"Benson…"
"I wanted to get an early start. I have a lot of catching up to do on the case."
Cragen's eyebrows drew together, causing the lines in his forehead to gather. "The Clarkson case? It's been closed, Olivia." Cragen looked over his shoulder, taking in the array of photos on Olivia's desk. "You took the file?"
"I made copies prior to…the shooting." She was rubbing the back of her neck again, and realizing the gesture might come across as fidgety, shoved her hand in her pocket. "Something doesn't seem quite right. The two different treatments of the victims, the psychological profile that Huang came up with…"
"That there might be two different perps? Olivia, Huang also detailed in his profile that it was highly probable that it was one perpetrator with bi-polar psychosis. Clarkson has bi-polar disorder with untreated schizophrenia and a lengthy criminal history of violence."
Olivia's pocketed hand unconsciously drew up into a fist. Clarkson. Andrew Clarkson. She could still see his sneer in her mind, could feel her index finger pull against the trigger of her Glock. She knew the memory of killing the man would come back to her during her darkest times, even thought she could always rationalize that his death was more than justified.
"Yes. But it couldn't hurt to give it another look. I've had three days to think about it Cap, and I just want to be sure, for us and the victims, that there is absolute closure on this one."
His head titled ever so slightly as he examined her once again with his kind eyes. "Olivia."
"I promise it won't take away from any acting investigations."
"That's not what I'm concerned about." His voice was softer now. "How have you been? I've tried calling, but I keep on getting your machine."
Olivia forced a smile. "I've been resting, mostly. Catching up on years of missed sleep." The small laugh sounded fake even to her. She bit her lower lip. "I feel fine."
"Elliot tells me you haven't been by to see him."
"You've talked to Elliot?"
"Yes. He's been up and talking for two days. Yesterday he was actually walking around. His doctors told him that he should be strong enough for release within a week. Plenty of rehab left, of course, but Elliot's main goal is getting home." Cragen paused to let her absorb the information. "I've been by to see him every day, Olivia, and the first thing he asks is how you've been doing."
"I was…"
"Planning on it?" Cragen finished for her. It wasn't what Olivia was going to say, but she didn't correct him. "Good. I'm not going to ask what has kept you so busy from seeing your partner, but I want you to take some time off after nine AM and go see Stabler. Visiting hours will have started by then."
Olivia lower lip drew in slightly, holding in those thoughts she wanted to share, but never would. She had enough fun bull shitting Huang yesterday in the "therapy" session. She could never lie to Cragen, she respected him too much, but she would never let her feelings spill out from the wall she had been building for years.
"It's…complicated." Olivia's voice was barely above a whisper.
"I know. And I'm not asking for an explanation, Olivia. But right now, your partner needs you. And I think, maybe deep down, you might need him too. You went through this together, Benson. There are going to be scars, physical and emotional. And the best way for partners to heal is to talk about the incident together. No one can understand exactly what you are going through, except your partner." He paused, giving her a small smile. "Trust me on this, Olivia."
Olivia smiled back, and this time it was genuine. His words comforted her, easing some of the tension she had been holding. Once again, she was grateful to have Cragen in her life. She hadn't explained anything to him, but he instinctively gave her direction. Her captain was like the father she should have had.
"Thank you, Cap."
They were both quiet for a moment, and then Cragen gave her a quick nod, turning to the boxes of donuts. He opened the top box, and after rummaging around a few seconds with a napkin, produced shiny, sugar glazed cinnamon roll.
"Your favorite, Olivia. Now let me pour us some coffee and we can go over a new case that came in. Munch has been working it alone while Fin wraps up the McKeever case. But now that you're back, you can give him some assistance. There have been two rapes in the past week where the vics are showing the same signature and M.O…."
Cragen continued to explain the case as he walked over to the coffee maker. Rape and donuts at six AM and Olivia knew she was home again, back at SVU.