AN: Holy shit 700 reviews thank you so much! I appreciate all the love and support with this story!
Here is an extra long chapter to show my appreciation.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The noise gets louder and louder.
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
She doesn't know why it isn't stopping.
Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump!
She twists beneath blankets in a full blown sweat.
Blankets?
Her eyes snap open against darkness, her breath lodged in the back of her throat.
What the hell?
She's no longer standing vertical but laying horizontal in bed, encased in darkness.
Her eyes dart immediately to the clock.
8:49pm.
"Olivia," she hears Elliot hiss as the continuous pounding rattles the door.
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
She scrambles out of the twisted blankets, disorientation hitting her full force as she half trips on the pant leg of his sweats on her pursuit to the door. Her shaky, sweaty hands slip against the bolt, pulling the door open and it's seconds before Elliot is moving through the gap before she barely has it open.
"Goddamn it," he rasps in a whisper. "I was seconds from breaking down the-"
He stops in his tracks when he sees her.
"Jesus." He whispers, taking her in. "What happened?"
She must look in clear distress because her hands are already coming out and grasping the wall for support as she tries to catch her breath. He shuts the door firmly closed, latching the bolt before he drops a handful of bags on the table and closes the distance between them. He grasps her upper arms gently, turning her until she's facing him and she swallows against his stare.
"I ah…" she begins, her watery eyes looking every which way but at him. "It's.. I ah.. I'm fine."
"Like hell," he whispers, looking down at her. "What happened?" He is holding both her biceps to steady her but she knows he can feel the perspiration beneath his palm. "Liv, you're drenched."
She attempts to create some distance between them, her hands pressing up against the wall of his chest, trying to get him to release her. She feels crowded and panicked and in need of air.
"Liv, what's going on?"
But she can't handle the question, his probing stare or his palms on her inflamed flesh so she tries to push into him again and when he doesn't let up, a pang of irrational fear soars through her.
"Get off me," she growls suddenly.
His hands slip from her immediately and she stumbles backwards, her demand still reverberating off the walls.
He stares at her in shock.
It must have been a muscle memory trigger - the feeling of being caged, trapped, detained. Lewis. The trailer. She drops her shoulders, her consciousness only just beginning to register that it had all been a dream, that there is no threat in this room.
She tries to figure out what to say when his eyes fall down to her attire, she looks down to see his tank is hanging low, her cleavage streaked with sweat, the tops of her lace bra visible. She turns away from him then suddenly feeling incredibly exposed, dragging the top up her body.
"Liv," he says shakily. "Talk to me. Did something happen? Was someone here?"
She shakes her head, all of a sudden terribly embarrassed at her behaviour. He wasn't trying to detain her, he was just keeping her upright so she didn't have to use the wall to stand.
"No one was here Elliot," she whispers. "I'm fine."
"You're dripping in sweat," he rasps. "And you're shaking. You're not fine."
She feels him step forward again and she moves away immediately, raising her hands indicating she doesn't want to be touched.
"Just stop," she whispers mostly to herself, pressing her eyes closed, unable to face him as she makes her way to the bathroom.
"It was just a dream," she tells herself. "Just a dream."
When she reemerges from the bathroom she finds Elliot perched on the edge of his bed.
He lifts his head to meet her stare and she holds it for a few beats until she is stepping further into the room.
She sucks in a breath, not wanting to engage in conversation but equally determined to play damage control. She had caught the look in his eyes and he had seen her clear as day.
PTSD. Victim.
She had showed all the signs. Similar to her response to him in the trailer, yet there was no imminent danger in this room.
Just him.
Get off me!
She sucks in a breath. She just needs to make it through the next few days until they get to the city, she cannot afford another breakdown in front of him.
She slowly takes a seat next to him on his bed, keeping a generous distance between them.
"I was having a nightmare Elliot, so your pounding.. I got confused."
That's all she has for him.
It doesn't really explain it but it's enough to take the edge off.
He is staring straight ahead as she rubs her sore shoulder moving it around gently to try and loosen up the joint, thankful for the fact that she's no longer dripping in sweat. She had towelled herself off in the bathroom, pressing a cold washer against her face, neck and chest until her body temperature settled down.
"Where were you anyway?" She asks to his silence, using the opportunity to shift the focus onto his prolonged departure.
Her mind had done the math, there wasn't a great deal of time to do much more than drop the car, switch the plates and walk back but there was still time unaccounted for.
"Parking the car in town.. like I told you," he whispers, looking over at her then, concern still present when they lock eyes. "I took a little longer because I grabbed us a few things."
She hears the hint of defensiveness in his tone and a pang of guilt hits, he was finally being honest with her and it looked like she was still questioning him.
He was waiting for her to back up her accusation when her eyes simply moved towards the bags on the table and she motions towards them with the tilt of her chin.
"What did you get?"
When he just continues to stare at her she uses the excuse to get up.
She sifts through the items, feeling his eyes on her profile as she discovers a new toothbrush, a travel sized toothpaste, a stick of women's deodorant and a pink razor.
Her lips lift into a smile.
"You trying to tell me something Elliot?"
He still doesn't respond so she moves onto the second bag to find trail mix, two snickers bars, two 1.5 litre bottles of water and two orange Gatorades. Are you planning a hike? She nearly says but thinks better of it. She finally moves to the third bag that contains two styrofoam containers stacked on top of one another with plastic cutlery and napkins scattered on top.
She looks over at him quizzically.
"What did you get?"
He stands up then.
"Dinner." He tells her bluntly as he passes her.
Before she has a chance to enquire further he's moving through the bathroom threshold and clicking it closed.
She eyes the door.
She doesn't know if it's his lack of belief in her story, concern over her reaction or annoyance at her accusation of his whereabouts but there is a weighted tension now.
She grasps a bottle of water from the bag and twists off the cap, taking a large swig before her eyes do a double take, realising he had left his wallet and phone on the bed. Her focus moves back to the shopping bags, trying to ignore the presence of his forgotten items but it's the message from her dream that she can't get out of her head.
Come Home Elliot.
Her fingers itch to find out.
She hears the sink in the bathroom running so she moves hurriedly, grabbing the phone and clicking onto the latest message stream.
JACKIE CELL: Is it done?
JACKIE CELL: Elliot? Is it done?
Her eyebrows furrow. The timing is consistent with her bus departure and when she sees no response from Elliot she flicks to his recent call history to find an outgoing call to Jackie at 8:10pm for 20 seconds.
She looks at the motel clock.
8:55pm
She doesn't know why she's doing it but she picks up his wallet, flicking through old diner receipts and gas stubs, a few crumpled dollar bills and an ID, hoping to find more missing pieces to the puzzle. She removes the ID from it's clear pocket and she takes in the photo of Elliot above William Chase's name.
The bathroom door opens suddenly and he sees her.
"Seriously Liv." He stalks up to her. "We back here now?" He grabs the items out of her hand but he seems more frustrated than angry. "Why don't you stop with the speculation for five minutes and have something to eat?"
Her eyes fall down to his bare chest and she can see a dark red patch seeping through the bandage.
"You're bleeding," she notes.
"I know," he mutters in frustration. "I must have busted a stitch."
She moves closer, attempting to inspect the bandage when he lightly grasps her wrist.
"It's fine Liv," he whispers. "I just need to change the bandage. There are supplies in the bag."
She watches Elliot as he moves towards the pack and pulls out a clear case containing gauze, bandages and ointments.
She thinks about the phone call, the busted stitch, his recent absence.
"Just getting dinner huh," she whispers curiously.
He turns around then and stares at her defensively.
"It happened at the bus station Liv," he explains. "You realise you elbowed me when I grabbed you."
Her eyes drop down once more to the bandage and she notices it's mostly dried blood.
She changes gears.
"Why don't you let me do it then?" She motions towards the pack. "I caused it - I'll fix it."
He is looking at her strangely, a protest ripe on his lips but something in him must have given in because he was shaking his head and taking a seat in front of her.
She watches him peal off the edge of the dirty bandage in preparation, she had seen Jackie patch him up and it didn't look too difficult.
She takes an alcohol wipe out of the pack, tears off the top and cleans her hands first, watching as he pulls at the edge of the bandage, winching as he only manages to get it quarter of the way off. She kneels down then, moving her body between his legs, her shoulders nudging his thighs apart, trying not to think about their awkward positioning.
She bats his hand out of the way, grasping the edge of the lifted bandage and continuing to peal it off herself. The sticky surrounds lift from his skin and her eyes move up briefly to catch him biting down on his lower lip before she rips the rest in one clean motion. He makes a stifled guttural sound as she takes in the jagged line on his stomach. She can see it's stitched together neatly except for the left side where a couple of stitches have come loose so she grabs another alcohol wipe, feeling his eyes back on her as she tears the top off the packet.
He must know what's coming then because he is clutching her free forearm in preparation.
"This is going to sting El," she tells him slowly looking at his hand that is holding her. "Can you grab something else?" It registers for him, he's holding onto her bad arm and she doesn't want a repeat performance of the diner alley. He moves his hand off her arm immediately and instead rests it on her waist, bunching the material of his tank into his fist. She ignores the light tingle of his fingers and instead focuses on the wipe in her hand.
She waits a few beats, their eyes locking before she drags it intently across the raised flesh and she doesn't hold back ensuring she covers the entire wound.
He lets out a hiss, her fingers sinking into her waist as he tries to stifle his verbal response. His hands aren't letting up on her so she bends down, blowing against his open wound until it takes the majority of the sting out.
When she moves back up she grasps the antiseptic cream from the pack and begins to twist off the cap.
He is watching her, his fingers still gripping her waist as he studies her intently.
"You can let go El," she tells him, her eyes moving back to his stomach. "This part isn't going to hurt."
He releases her shirt then and she moves forward once more, smoothing the cold cream across his flesh until it's covering the entire gash.
She notices he's still tensing.
'"I know what I'm doing Elliot," she whispers, slightly offended. "So you can relax."
She thinks about how trusting he had been with Jackie in front of him yet with her he's half expecting her to elbow him again for good measure.
She is wiping the excess cream off her fingers with a tissue when she says it.
"Lie down."
"What?" He sounds caught off guard.
She looks up at his confused expression.
"The bandage won't tug so much against the skin if I put it on when you're lying down." She explains. "It'll come of more easily too."
When all he does is stare at her with a confused look she presses a hand against his breastbone gently guiding him down. He grabs onto her good arm for support, wincing as she starts to lower him. She moves up on the bed, placing a knee on the mattress as she guides him downward with her good arm around his back, careful not to knock his exposed flesh as she lowers him. She holds her breath from the motion, she hadn't expected their bodies to get so close in the process. He grunts a little from the motion and it hits her then, just how much pain he must be in.
He settles down against the mattress and she moves back down the bed, careful to keep her weight off him.
"I'll close the side that's come open with butterfly bandages." She tells him slowly, grasping the medical pack once more, locating a strip and starting to peal one off. "It should be enough to keep it together beneath the larger bandage."
"You get a medical license while I was away?" He mumbles in response.
She ignores his comment, placing two butterfly strips on the end of the wound before leaning over him to grasp the large bandage, her hair inadvertently swiping his chest.
"It's not rocket science Elliot," she whispers, their eyes meeting for a split second and she knows what she's doing, it had been a silent dig at Jackie.
She places the large bandage down on his wound, ensuring all parts are covered before she starts to press it down.
She feels him flinch again, as if he's worried she's going to inflict pain but she's careful with her pressure, running her hands gently over the top to ensure all sides of the bandage are flattened and secure.
"Okay, you're all done," she whispers slowly and she waits a few beats, knowing full well he's going to need some help sitting up. She bends down again, waiting for him to move his arm back around her neck before she grasps the back of his shoulder and she starts to lift.
"Slow," he grits his teeth as they gently rise and she moves them steadily upward.
When she gets him into a sitting position, she starts to move away when his hand comes out suddenly, grasping the top of her shirt.
"What's this?" He whispers and she looks down to see his finger brushing the burn on the side of her breast, she freezes for a second, blindsided by the fact that he's touching her so intimately whilst equally panicked about him seeing the scars.
She stands then, his hand falling away from her chest as she turns away. She tugs the loose top back up, silently berating herself for not changing, realising Elliot would have had a full view down her shirt for that entire exercise. She doesn't respond, instead she goes into cleaning mode, collecting the medical bag and bandage wrappers at his side, moving them all over to the table all the while feeling the warm stare on the side of her face.
"Liv," he stands up slowly, waiting a few beats before he says it. "There are multiple."
She swallows, silently debating how to handle this.
"Great observation Elliot," she turns back to him in a tired whisper. "How bout you spend less time staring at my breasts and more time focused on your own scars."
It's a low blow, she knows it and it's redundant because he isn't going to back down, not after what he saw.
"Please just talk to me," he whispers.
She shakes her head then, looking away with a humourless smile.
"You first," she whispers, before she returns his stare, motioning towards the jagged scar to the left of his abdomen that she had seen in the trailer, the one that started at his ribcage and disappeared into his jeans.
"What happened Elliot?"
She knows he didn't want to talk about it then and she's pretty sure he isn't going to want to talk about it now.
Her suspicions are confirmed when she sees him look away, his body language shifting, his defences rising.
"Didn't think so," she whispers to his silence.
She's moving over to the table then, seizing the bag of toiletries he had bought her and she pauses in front of him.
"Thanks for these," she tells him genuinely before she continues towards the bathroom, stopping only when she gets to the threshold.
"We should get some sleep El," she tells him over her shoulder before she looks back at him. "We've got a long drive ahead of us tomorrow."
TBC
