Olivia wakes up to a sharp pain radiating through her shoulder.

She must have turned in her sleep because the pain was now pulsating down the full length of her arm. She winces, her sleep-filled eyes blinking against the darkness, confused for a moment as to where she was. She takes in a few weighted breaths before her gaze settles on the bedside clock.

9:27pm

She remembered closing her eyes somewhere around the 8 o'clock mark and as she takes in his untouched bed she tries to ward off any sense of panic at his prolonged absence.

She sits up, careful not to rest any weight on her shoulder as she pads to the bathroom.

She takes in her reflection once more as she pools a handful of water in her palm, splashing it on her face, feeling groggy and dehydrated as if she had just stepped off a long haul flight. She fills a plastic cup with water and drains several cups of liquid, her mind reeling at the concept that he has been gone a full hour and a half.

She moves back into the main room, grasping the bag on the motel table and searching through it until she finds his case of toiletries. She unzips the bag locating a spray deodorant, a toothbrush, toothpaste and a canister of painkillers. She sprays the deodorant under her arms, the scent of her partner hitting her full force until she does a double take, inspecting the label inundated by sensory overload, unable to believe he still uses the same deodorant after all these years.

She drops the can back in his bag and notices a small burner phone inside the bag, she flips it open and stares at it for a good moment before she scrolls down to the latest message, her heart pounding at what she might find.

Jackie: Come home Elliot.

She blinks at the text.

She lets the concept culminate in her chest before she drops the phone back in the bag, taking the tube of toothpaste and painkillers to the bathroom, squeezing some paste on her finger and brushing it across her teeth. She takes another sip of water from the cup, swilling it around her mouth before spitting it out, thoughts of Elliot's whereabouts continuing to niggle at her recesses.

He wouldn't have gone back to Jackie's.

Without her.

Surely not..

She pops open the pill bottle, taking a couple of ibuprofen before she hears it.

Another sound.

The creek of the floorboard.

It's different to before.

Louder.

Closer.

Her eyes flit to the mirror, half expecting to see Elliot's presence standing behind her but she's enveloped in darkness.

She feels a chill of air move up her spine and she waits for the noise to be backed up by another but it's just stillness.

She looks behind her before she slowly moves out to the main room, her eyes immediately landing on the cupboard in the corner where she notices the slits of wood are all slanting down.

Then it's four words that pound through her mind.

Welcome home Detective Benson.

Her chest hammers irrationally as she steps towards the closet, an unexpected sheen of moisture lining her eyes. She doesn't know why Lewis is in her head and why her illogical mind expects him to be in this motel room. She cannot fathom why her heart is racing a mile at the concept but she can't escape the feeling that she isn't alone.

She moves towards the firearm she had stored in the top draw of the side table, grasping it and padding closer to the wardrobe. She remembers the night of her attack like it was yesterday, the sound she had heard just after she'd set down her groceries on the counter.

It was the same feeling.

Her breath starts to shake, her heart racing as she treads closer, her trembling hand reaching out as she turns the handle forcibly open. She points her shaking weapon into the darkness but all she is greeted with is four loan wire hangers clinking back and forth from the motion.

She swallows, trying to shake off the excess energy pulsing through her body but she's unable to rid the feeling that something is off. She's hot and cold all at once, slick perspiration pooling under her arms as the hairs on the back of her neck stand from the chill in the air. She feels the anxiety start to grip her chest as she stumbles backwards, colliding forcibly with the bedside table, her slick hand losing hold of her weapon, the metal firearm clattering to the floor.

Then it hits.

She was expecting an intruder on the inside but it's a pounding knock on the outside that rattles her.

Her head snaps towards the sound.

The knock much louder than it needs to be.

That's all she can think.

Elliot wouldn't pound so loudly.

And it was three painstaking seconds until she hears it again.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

TBC