Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.
Author's Note: I feel I must inform you of a serious condition that I just became aware of. It may shock some of you to find out, but….I'm afraid I am a sadist. That is the only logical explanation I can think of to justify why I am having such a good time dragging this out! I am, of course, kidding….let out that breath! I promise that the next chapter is going to answer all of your questions about this story. I promise!
Olivia grabbed her shoes and jammed them onto her feet as she pulled on the first sweatshirt her hand hit in the drawer.
"I'm on my way," she said, picking up her keys. "Elliot, I want you to listen to me. I'm going to hang up and call you back from my cell phone. Are you using your cell phone or your house phone?"
There was no answer. All she could hear was the sound of his hysterical crying in her ear. "Elliot…answer me," she said desperately. "House or cell phone?"
"Cell," he managed to choke.
"Ok." She frantically pulled her cell phone out of her purse and flipped it open. "I'm going to call you right back, ok?" No answer. "Elliot," she said, panicked. "Ok?"
"Okay," he whispered.
She squeezed her eyes shut and hung up. Her finger hit speed dial number 1 on her cell phone almost simultaneously as she raced out to the parking lot.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Olivia felt her pulse quicken and tears sprang to her eyes as the sixth ring went unanswered. She pressed her foot harder on the gas pedal and willed him to answer.
The faint click of the line picking up almost made her cry out in relief. "Liv?" he whispered.
"I'm here," she said. She checked over her shoulder quickly as she merged onto the interstate. "Elliot, what's the matter? Are you hurt?"
He leaned his head against the side of the bathroom sink and gagged, groaning painfully. "Olivia….I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I'm sorry about what I said to you…please, I'm so sorry."
"It's ok…it's ok," she said as reassuringly as she could. "Elliot, don't worry about it. Neither of us meant what we said."
There was a pause. "Where are you?" he asked, tearfully. "Are you almost here?"
"I'm coming, honey," she promised. "I'm about ten minutes away."
She made it in six minutes, squealing to a stop in front of his building. She jumped out of the car without bothering to turn off the ignition or shut the door.
Bolting into the building, she flew up the stairs and ran to his apartment. Twisting the doorknob hard in her hand, she was surprised to find it unlocked. She burst through it and ran through the foyer in frenzy.
"Elliot!"
Scanning the living room quickly and finding nothing, she hurried to the second level. She rushed into his bedroom and stopped in her tracks.
The room was a wreck. The bed was unmade, clothes spilled from his dresser drawers, and clutter was strewn haphazardly. A large tub peeked out from under his bed, with papers tossed all around.
There was vomit everywhere. It made a trail to the bathroom, and as her eyes followed it she finally saw her partner. He was slumped against the doorframe, and the state of him made her eyes fly wide in shock and horror.
His face was as white as a sheet except for his mouth, which had blood all over it. It dripped from his chin onto his forest green t-shirt. He was shaking so badly that his eyes were rolling back in his head. His cell phone was lying beside him.
"Oh, Jesus!" she cried.
She dialed 911 on her cell phone and screamed into it that she was a police officer and needed an ambulance now. Throwing the phone down, she dove across the room and slid to her knees beside him so fast that she could feel burns on her kneecaps.
He was seizing. Olivia's hands were shaking as she gripped his shoulders and pulled him down to lay flat on the floor. She was absolutely terrified.
"Elliot," she said in a panic. "It's ok, baby…it's going to be okay."
She was sobbing now, feeling him convulsing uncontrollably under her hands. Could he even hear her? She had seen seizures before on the job, but never this close.
It seemed an eternity before she heard footsteps bursting in downstairs. Keeping her grip firmly on Elliot, she turned her head towards the bedroom door.
"Up here!" she screamed as loud as she could.
Four paramedics came rushing in. One held a large orange supply kit.
"Ma'am, please step aside," one of them said quickly.
She hurried out of the way and watched with tears running down her face as the four men surrounded him. He had stopped the full-blown seizing, but was still twitching sporadically.
They worked rapidly and fluently. A syringe was pulled out of the kit, and Olivia grimaced when they smoothly injected it into the side of his neck.
"What are you giving him?" she asked. She was aware of the hysterics in her voice.
"It's a mix of morphine and Risperidone… an epilepsy medication," one of them said. "It takes about five minutes before the seizures will stop."
"What's wrong with him?" she asked tearfully. She looked down at Elliot, who was now lying motionless, and lost her breath. "Is he alright?"
A paramedic stood up and went over to her, looking at her worriedly. "Ma'am, you should sit down," he said, gripping her shoulders lightly.
"I'm fine!" she cried, twisting away from him. She looked at him frantically and repeated the question firmly. "Is he going to be alright?"
"He's going to be just fine," the one crouched closest to Elliot said. "It'll take a little while to get his heart rate and nerves under control….but he's not in any danger. All we can do for a seizure is wait it out until it's done."
Noticing the terrified look on her face, the one in front of her squeezed her shoulders to get her attention. "He'll be just fine, ma'am," he said reassuringly. "I promise."
Olivia gulped in a breath and nodded as frightened tears began flowing down her cheeks.
Ten minutes later, Elliot was lying in his bed propped up against three pillows. He was weak, but otherwise okay. Three of the paramedics were beside him, checking his pulse one last time as the fourth went out to the ambulance to put the supplies away.
Olivia was standing next to the bed, looking on anxiously. The one who had spoken with her before left the bedside and walked over to her.
"He's in a little bit of shock, but that's normal," he said. "We got no indications that he's epileptic…" He left the statement open, and she realized he was asking her.
"Oh," she started. "No, he's not….well, he's never said anything in the years I've known him, at least."
"I didn't think so, but I just wanted to be sure," he said. "The seizures shouldn't happen again with the injection we gave him, but I'd like someone to keep a close eye on him tonight. If for some reason he does start again, call us immediately."
She nodded. "Can you tell what caused this?" she asked. "I mean….why does a person normally have a seizure?"
"It could be a number of things," he answered. "A head wound could certainly lead to a seizure, but I didn't see one of those…."
She quickly shook her head.
"A heart condition could be a factor, stress, a traumatic event…." He trailed off and shrugged. "Or it could just be his body's way of releasing pent-up emotions. There really is no way for us to tell."
Olivia took a shaky breath. "This evening was definitely traumatic for him." He looked at her questioningly. "We're cops," she elaborated. "He's been undercover for the last two days in order for us to bust a drug ring….it turned sour and he was taken hostage."
His eyebrows shot up. "Well…yes," he stammered. "Yes, that could definitely have something to do with it."
"So there isn't anything I can really do?" she asked desperately.
The man considered. "Well, like I said, keep an eye on him," he told her. "Other than that, all you could maybe do is see if he'll talk to you about the situation to relieve some of the anxiety."
Her attention strayed to the other paramedics, who had stood up. "Ok, Elliot," one of them said. "Are you feeling alright?"
Elliot was still so shaken that he couldn't speak. He nodded wordlessly.
"Do you have any questions for us?" the medic continued gently.
He shook his head no.
"Alright, then," he said. "We're going to head out." He reached out to shake Elliot's hand, and he returned the gesture heartily. "Call us if you need to."
"Thank you," Elliot managed to say.
Olivia escorted them all downstairs and thanked them profusely before shutting the door. Once it was closed, her knees gave and she collapsed heavily against it. Tears were brimming, but she took several deep breaths to abate them.
Once she was composed, she headed back up the stairs.
When she entered his bedroom, Elliot had his head leaned back against the pillows and was staring up at the ceiling. His eyes were glassy, and from her position she could see tears rolling down his cheeks.
She stood in the doorway for a minute, debating on what to do. The tugging on her heart couldn't be ignored, however, and she crossed the room to sit on the bed beside him.
"Elliot?" she asked gently.
He turned to look at her without raising his head, and she found herself flinching at the misery in his eyes. Before Olivia even realized it, she was hugging him. Neither of them spoke, but words weren't needed at the moment. The contact was enough.
She held on to him tightly and pressed her face against his chest, letting him draw strength from her. He was shuddering.
After a few minutes, he pulled away, and she released him.
A few moments of silence passed.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Hey," she chided softly, reaching for his hand and squeezing gently. "Don't apologize, Elliot. You never have to be afraid to call me…I'll always be here for you. I'm just so glad you're alright."
He shook his head, avoiding her eyes. "No," he said thickly. Tears built again. "I'm sorry…" He took a shaking breath. "Olivia, I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't- I wasn't-" His voice broke.
She reached out quickly and cupped his chin, lifting his face to meet her gaze. "Stop it," she said forcefully. "I'm not mad at you. We were both upset…I know you didn't mean what you said."
Her eyes filled with shame. "I only wish I could say the same," she said, feeling tears springing again. "I hurt you on purpose because you shocked me….I feel horrible about it. I'm so sorry I hurt you like that, Elliot." She smoothed her hand over his cheek. "Please forgive me."
His face flushed a little at the intimate touch, but he looked relieved. "I forgive you," he said. "Let's just put it behind us, ok?"
She nodded quickly and took her hand away. The hand holding hers squeezed, and he gave her a weak smile.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, drawing back a little.
Elliot swallowed hard and shrugged. "Weak," he answered. "But that's usually how I always feel after one of…." He suddenly stopped talking, his eyes reflecting panic.
She picked up on his words immediately. "You've had seizures before?" she asked in concern. "How often?"
He grimaced, wishing he could swallow something big enough to keep him from being able to speak. "Not a lot," he said. "In fact, this is the first one I've had in almost 10 years. I used to get them a lot when I was younger, though."
"Why?" she asked.
His eyes closed. He went silent for a long time. Finally he opened his eyes, and whispered painfully, "There's something I have to tell you."