AN: Thank you so much for your reviews and your continued interest in the story!

I'm glad you're finding it intriguing/original (albeit it ridiculous and outlandish lol).

Hopefully from this chapter you can rest assured that it's not quite over yet..


Olivia stared out the bus window, her fingers loosely clutching the crumpled envelope in hand. It was the first opportunity she had to let the effects of the past hour finally catch up to her and it was hitting home like a punch to the gut.

'I'm done.'

The emotion began rapidly pouring out of her, silently spilling down her cheeks. She knew she couldn't break – truly break – until she was well beyond the outskirts of Ohio. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself on this crowded bus but she let herself have this moment - allowed the silent tears to line her face like streaks of rain after a paralysing drought.

No part of her could believe this was her reality – wedged against a bus window, waiting for the engine to roar into life so she could endure a 14 hour journey back to the city. She watched the passengers board from the sidewalk before her gaze extended to the distance where she made out the phone booth.

'Don't make the call until you get to the city.'

The fact that he was effectively asking her to allow her manhunt to continue for yet another 14 hours was sickening. The guilt had a tangible hold on her chest at that point but she knew the consequences of the alternative was not an option.

'Did you really expect me to cause your death?'

Words from another time rung out in her ears, like jagged pieces of a puzzle that no longer fit into her current reality. Wasted man-hours was one thing, but the grief of causing his death was another.

'Give my regards to Jackie.'

She scrubs a hand over her face, regret culminating at the memory of her fury spilling out in a crowded diner. God knows if that outburst had consequences and if he'll need to put additional measures in place now. More than likely, he'd probably dodge that bullet, something that seemed effortless for him now. Elliot Stabler - master of damage control. The man could have a PHD in it by now. Ironic that she was the one worried for his safety when it was clear he was the invincible one.

'Don't make the call.'

She shook her head. She was so incredibly furious that he still seemed to have this hold over her. Even well after the man had left her life he was still seemingly controlling it from afar. But most of all, she was angry at herself. For allowing it, for getting so wrapped up in the 'Elliot Stabler Shit Show'in the first place.

'For better or worse.'

She could have left that night at the gas station with Tony. She could have left after the accident. She could have left so- many- goddamn- timesand yet something kept her here against all of her best judgment and sensibility.

And for what? So she could sit here days later, cramped in an uncomfortable seat, no better off.

He was an asshole.

A fuckingasshole.

But she was the bigger asshole.

She hated the decision she had made to stay.

Just as much as she hated the decision she had made to leave.

Her eyes dropped down to her lap realizing she was still wearing Jackie's t-shirt that was a size too small, a pair of her 'larger' jeans that were too snug and a random oversized hoodie that she'd taken from the suitcase they'd found in the trunk. She couldn't wait to get out of these clothes.

She couldn't wait to get out of this town.

"Are you going all the way?" A voice to her left startled her and she looked up to see a trucker in a cap holding a giant bag of Doritos. She quickly wiped away her tears and beneath her nose doing her best to pull herself together. He was blocking the aisle, staring down at her as he continued to munch on his chips. She had been hoping the bus wouldn't be full but as she sat up and looked around she could see the majority of the seats were now taken. She watched him sling his bag up on the rack above her row and take the seat beside her without so much as an invitation or another look in her direction.

He dusted the chips on his knee before he held out his hand for her to shake it.

"Dustin," he gave her a sideways smile. "My friends call me Dusty."

She doesn't take it, hoping he will get the message that she isn't interested in conversing with anyone on this trip, let alone touching them. When she doesn't return the handshake he moves his hand away, instead snapping the cap of his Fanta taking a large draw before he wedges it back into the seat pocket. He lets out an obnoxious 'ahhh' sound informing her and the entire bus that he is refreshed before he stretches out in his seat, his knee absently knocking the side of hers.

"So The Big Apple." He turns towards her. "You going all the way?" he repeats.

Olivia sighs, already feeling this man has said more than enough words to her. She moves her knee so they're no longer touching, trying to figure out the best way to diffuse the conversation for good.

'Don't talk to anyone.'

She turns to look out the window, wishing at that moment she had purchased a book or some ear buds at that convenience store so she could at least bury herself in a distraction for the remainder of the trip, but all she had with her was a bottle of water and a bottle of painkillers.

Perhaps she could take a handful and knock herself out..

"I'm getting off in Philly." Dusty continued in the absence of her response.

"Listen - Dustin is it?" She asked, her voice a little horse from her emotional release earlier.

"Dusty," he corrected her with a smile.

"Dusty…I'm running on zero hours sleep here so you'll have to excuse me. I'm going to get some shut eye."

He held up his hands in defence. "Say no more. I know how long these trips can be, I myself have just come off a 12 hour.."

His words tapered off when he saw her irate expression staring back at him before he silently went back to his bag of chips.

She turned then, distant sounds of passengers filtering through the isles as she grabbed her hood and tugged it over her head. She leant against the hard surface of the window and closed her eyes. The vibrations of the bus giving her a slight headache as she willed herself to sleep, praying she would miraculously fall unconscious and wake up on the other side of this nightmare.

She moved the envelope containing her bus ticket transfers and cash into the hoodie pocket closest to the window just as the bus started to pull away from the curb. The bus driver rattled off the details of their impending journey and she found her eyes slipping open once more, watching the gas station diner slowly leave her line of vision.

She wondered then, if Elliot was watching that very moment, ensuring she was leaving his life for good, or if he was already half way back to his white picket fence, content in the knowledge that she was as good as gone.


Elliot's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the bus pull away from the diner, the reality of the situation hitting him like a freight train.

His fingers flexed against the steering wheel, itching – fidgeting.

Follow her. Stop. Follow her. Don't.

He doesn't know anymore. He just doesn't know.

Fuck!

He doesn't think he's ever felt this conflicted in his entire life. But he knows he made the right decision, that's all he can think. He will thank himself in the coming days even if it feels like his goddamn chest is ripping to pieces at the concept of each and every mile that was currently being put between them.

A blipping sound comes from the burner phone in his console and he lifts it up.

JACKIE CELL:

Is it done?

He stares back at the message blowing out a heavy breath before he opens it up to reply.

He begins to type his answer just as he sees a second message come through.

JACKIE CELL:

Elliot? Is it done?

He looks up from his phone then, just in time to catch the sight of a red car pulling out of a car space across from the diner and he does a double take.

A cold chill wracks through his body as he sees the familiar New York City number plate.

His stomach braces.

It's the same car from the warehouse.

The same vehicle he'd used to make plenty of drops in his time.

The same car that was now following Olivia Benson.

Mother-fucking-fuck!


TBC