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.

He began looking around wildly. Where was he going to go? There was nothing but fields and darkness as far as he could see. His chest heaved with the exertion, but he kept running as fast as he could, repeatedly whipping his head around to see if he was being followed.

He ran awkwardly, hampered by his hands tied tightly behind him, and was forced to slow to avoid falling. If he fell, he didn't know if he would be able to get back up. His lungs began to ache with a searing burn and he had to slow to a walk.

His head whipped around quickly once more. Seeing nothing, he continued down the dark road, sticking to the middle for fear of slipping into a ditch or something of the sort. The night was completely black and the rain wasn't helping matters.

The main concern was getting as far away as he possibly could before those psychos realized where he was.

The black man stood on the porch and scanned the horizon with the night-vision goggles.

"He can only get so far," the woman said, coming out of the store, followed by the other man. She stood next to the black man as he continued looking out into the rain. "Road only goes to one place…he'll end up at the house sooner or later."

The black man scowled angrily and put down the goggles. The other man picked up a hunting rifle from just inside the door and walked over to the edge of the porch. He smirked.

"Give him a head start," he said, aiming into the night.

The sound of a shot cracking through the air made Elliot's heart skip a beat. He stumbled instinctively and lost his balance. Gravity overtook him before he could struggle to right himself and he pitched forward, landing hard on the pavement.

Another shot echoed in the air right after the first and he jumped violently, straining to get to his knees. He was unsuccessful.

Yet another shot sounded, making him whimper in terror. He had no idea where the shots were coming from, but lying bound in the middle of the road made him a sitting duck.

He strained hard and rolled over onto his back, the effort driving the wind from him. Ignoring the pain it caused his hands, he struggled to keep going, rolling slowly toward the side of the road.

He had to stop several times to rest, the effort agonizing. Breathing loudly through his nose, he forced himself to keep going. The darkness made it impossible to see anything, so he just continued rolling as fast as he could manage, his head banging the asphalt with each turn he made.

A sudden, sharp drop made him gasp, but he could do nothing about it. Snapping and loud pops echoed and Elliot landed face-down in a huge pile of twigs and sticks. The sharp edges scraped and gouged his face, making him wince and squeeze his eyes shut to protect them.

Breathing hard in fear and exhaustion, he lay still. His chest heaved with each gasp of breath he took, making the brush he was lying in move with him. After a minute, he opened his eyes gingerly, immediately getting poked with pieces of pine straw and bits of bark.

He winced, blinking rapidly to dislodge the pieces of wood that had gotten into his eyes, and turned his head to the side. His entire body ached with a vengeance now, and his head was throbbing steadily.

Another crack from the rifle. He jumped instantly, muscles tight with anticipation, and froze. Staying as still as he could, he squeezed his eyes shut and prayed.

"Come on," the black man said, turning toward the other man. "She's right, Jed…he won't get far."

The man remained where he was, glaring out into darkness. "God damned bastard," he hissed, one hand coming up to gingerly feel his nose. "He almost broke my nose, damn it!"

The woman looked at him sympathetically, coming over to him. She gently squeezed his arm. "They always struggle, darlin'," she said soothingly, rubbing up and down. "You know that."

He scowled at her for a minute. Finally, he shook his head in defeat. "Yeah, I know," he said sullenly. "But it still don't make it hurt any less."

"Go help him with the flashlights," she continued to sooth. "I'll get you an ice pack."

Pouting, he nodded. He leaned down to kiss the black woman on the cheek. "Thanks, Mable," he said.

She smiled. The sound of a baby crying inside made her turn back toward the door. "Let me go take care of her," she said, opening the door. "You hurry up now; you know he don't like to wait."

The man nodded, stepping off of the porch. He paused as he was heading toward the back and turned to face the horizon again.

"Better get as far as you can, Officer!" he bellowed, cupping his hands around his mouth to carry the sound further. "Sooner or later, we're going to catch up!" He fired another round into the air just for good measure. "You can make bet on it!"

He laughed maniacally and began to run around the side of the store.

The words echoed in the air around him. Shivering, Elliot dropped his head down into the dirt and closed his eyes. Sobs of terror and despair began to shake his frame.

Olivia began twitching in her sleep, her head tossing in agitation. Her hands clenched the sides of the bed as she muttered listlessly.

Her features were screwed up in agony as she continued to tremble and twitch.

With a gasp, she opened her eyes and lay still. Her breathing was harsh and shallow. She raised a shaking hand to wipe the sweat and tears from her face, looking around the bedroom.

The screams in her dream kept echoing in her head. She shook with the memory. No faces, just blackness…and screaming. Blood-curdling, hair-raising screams from something that she couldn't see.

He wasn't sure how long he lay there, but after a while he had to force himself to lift his face. This wasn't going to get him anywhere.

Taking a breath, he choked on the rest of the sobs that were trying to escape and struggled to roll over. He wasn't going to die this way…god damn it, he wasn'tgoing to die in a pile of fucking brush because of some fucking psychos from this shit hole town.

Anger giving him new determination, Elliot strained with every ounce of strength he had. Come on, Stabler…you can bench more than you weigh…lift, dammit! With a growl, he pushed hard and was overjoyed to feel himself turning over. He hit his back and lay still, breathing hard in relief.

Struggling to push forward, he used his bound hands to his advantage and shoved hard on the ground. His body flew upward and immediately began falling back down again. Groaning, he strained to keep himself upright. A sigh of relief whooshed from his nose when was able to fight gravity and land sitting up.

Breathing hard in exhaustion, he kept going. Straining with his legs, he shakily raised himself until he was standing.

I did it. The realization caught him off guard and he stood still, breathing hard. He was shaking with the effort. I did it!

He began running through the brush, away from the road.

The 11:00 news was ending and Fin reached for the remote to see what else was on. A sudden tightening in his chest made him gasp in surprise. He froze, heart pounding. He suddenly couldn't draw a breath.

The feeling passed as soon as it came. He stayed still for a minute, eyes wide, until his heart beat normally again.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What the hell was that?

When the feeling didn't return, he shrugged and relaxed against the couch cushions again.

The flashlight beams were strong, giving them the ability to see well in front of them. The black man patiently shone the light back and forth over both sides of the brush as he carefully trudged through.

Jed was on the road, sweeping from side to side. They both knew that the man couldn't get very far being tied up and having no lights. They would catch up soon.

They always did.

His feet flew across unfamiliar terrain as fast as they could go. He stumbled a few times and fought to keep his balance. His heart was pounding so fast that he thought he was having a heart attack.

Fear made his chest tight as he continued on. He kept trying to loosen the tape with his lips and tongue, frustrated when he had no success after several attempts.

There were no trees around for him to stop and rest against; no branches to try and loosen the ropes on his hands with. He was still completely helpless. All he could do was run.

Several minutes later, his chest ached so bad that he had to stop. He was breathing so hard that he was almost wheezing. It was so bad that he had to keep taking small steps forward to keep himself from tumbling over.

The sound of a twig snapping echoed in the stillness, making him gasp loudly out of reflex. He quickly froze and held his breath, praying that it hadn't been heard.

His eyes darted around anxiously, his heart hammering again. When another twig snapped, he knew that it was no coincidence. Fear had him running blindly again as fast as he could.

The sound of feet scurrying across the brush caught the attention of both men. Their heads both whipped around at the same instant, flashlight beams immediately aiming toward the sound. Rapid gasps met their ears.

The black man's lips spread into a smile. The other man's eyes lit up with excitement as they locked gazes.

"I told ya!" he shouted into the air. "We're going to get you, boy! There's nowhere to run!" He let out a rebel yell, shouting gleefully. "Nowhere to run!"

The two immediately began giving chase.

Oh, Jesus…oh, Jesus!

Beams of light shone around his feet and his stomach dropped. The sound of the men yelling near him made his heart jump.

He ran desperately through the darkness, praying that he could keep his footing. The men were chasing him now. He could hear their feet stomping weeds and sticks as he kept running blindly, terrified to look back for fear of losing time.

He had to keep ahead of them. If he could just make it back to the road, he would be able to out run them.

"Hurry up, hurry up!" the black man shouted behind him. His companion ran as hard as he could, but was still a few steps behind.

The flashlight beams bobbed in the darkness as they ran, making sure to keep the man in sight ahead of them. He was running awkwardly and they could hear his frightened breaths.

The fool…he actually thought he could out run them out here.

The black man abruptly skidding around, almost making the other man plow into him.

"What-?" he gasped anxiously.

"Go around," he said quickly, meeting the man's eyes. At the confused look, he hurried on, "Jed…go around! Hurry!"

The man took off to the side and disappeared from sight. The black man continued on his path.

He panted hard, his calves burning. Got to keep ahead of them…got to keep ahead of them…

Risking a glance behind him, he didn't see the flashlight beams anywhere, but it brought him no comfort.

Got to keep ahead of them…got to keep ahead of them…

When he turned his head back again, he saw one of the men standing right in his path.

Gasping, he tried to stop himself but was going too fast. With a muffled cry, Elliot crashed right into him and went to the ground.

Before he knew what was happening, both men were swarming him. He hadn't even seen the other one.

They kicked him several times. Jed took his flashlight and slammed it into his face, making him scream out in pain, and then immediately began kicking him again.

Don startled out of sleep and looked around. Was that the phone? He waited a minute and heard nothing.

He rolled over again and fell back asleep.

John set his mug of hot tea in the sink and flipped off the lights, padding through the kitchen. It was just after midnight. He had always been a bit of an insomniac and tonight was obviously going to be no exception.

Mouse scampered after him, pausing at his dish to see if there was any treats there. Finding none, he ran toward the bedroom.

Munch brushed his teeth and turned the covers down, slipping off his robe. He sat down on the end of the bed and set his alarm for the next morning.

Glancing over by the door, he saw Mouse looking at him. He raised an eyebrow at the animal.

"Come on," he said, eyeing the cat. He patted the pillow next to his.

Mouse jumped up and curled up into the pillow, purring. John turned off the lights and settled under the covers. He slipped his glasses off and set them on the nightstand.

Elliot lay sideways on the backseat of the old Jeep, silently sobbing into the upholstery. The younger of the two men was busy tossing out jeers at him from the front while the black man drove silently.

The beating had left him in pain and so disoriented that they'd had no trouble carrying him out onto the road. Sprawled over the black man's shoulder like a sack of wheat, he had dimly seen what looked like a vehicle of some kind as they approached it.

They had tied his hands and feet together and the black man had put a stronger layer of tape over the one on his mouth before tossing him into the back like a broken rag doll.

The roar of the engine starting sent his heart shattering and he broke down in despair as the Jeep carried him away from all hope of getting home.

He couldn't see where they were going with his face smashed against the seat, but after a while he felt the Jeep stop. The engine died and doors opened.

Rough hands grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him forward, making him start in surprise. He was dragged out of the vehicle and pitched onto the ground before he even knew what was happening.

Moaning, he squinted and peered blearily up at the men as they stood above him. The rain echoed loudly against the side of the Jeep and he shivered involuntarily, feeling the wetness seeping into his skin.

The black man had the hatchet in his hand. He swung it back and forth over his captive's face, watching the man's blue eyes as they shone with fear and despair.

"You'll like it here," he said, grinning. His eyes were bright with anticipation. "Everyone likes it here."

The sound of the other man's wild laughter registered in Elliot's ears before an explosion of pain like he had never experienced before assaulted his senses, followed by a loud cracking sound. He felt warm wetness spreading slowly into his eyes as everything faded to black.

The black man slammed the hatchet into the man's face with a grunt, the instrument making a dull thumping sound as it connected with the flesh. Sickening cracks echoed and he grinned again before lifting the hatchet back up.

Blood dripped onto the pavement and was immediately washed away by the rain. He stared down at the unconscious man, his blood already oozing steadily onto the asphalt.

He stared solemnly down at the limp form for another minute and turned to the other man.

"Go get the others," he said.

The man nodded and turned away, jogging down the path. The black man turned back and picked the man up again. His head hung limply down toward the ground as the black man started behind his companion.

Jed hopped up the porch of the sprawling Victorian home and through the door.

"Jed? That you?" came a voice from somewhere inside.

"Yes, Momma," he answered, stamping his feet on the rug by the door.

"It still raining?" she asked, coming in from a back bedroom.

He nodded. "Coming down in buckets out there," he said. He walked down the hall. "What did you make for supper?"

"There's roast beef on the table," she said. She turned to follow her son. "Any luck tonight?"

His eyes lit up as he was scarfing down the meat. "Yep," he said, grinning.

Her eyes widened in delight. "Really?"

He nodded, swallowing. "Got ourselves a real nice one this time," he said. "Real big and sturdy as a horse….he actually stopped for gas this afternoon. Can you believe that?" He grinned again as he stuffed more food into his mouth.

"Lord, Jed," she said, disgusted. "Get a plate, for crying out loud." She shook her head as he reached up for the cabinet. She looked at him thoughtfully. "Been a while since we've seen anyone stop…looks like the Lord done answered our prayers tonight."

"Millie!" came a shout from the front. "Can you come give me a hand?"

The woman scurried down the hall quickly. She gasped as she held the door, seeing the man he was carrying. "Lord, he wasn't kidding!" she said. "That one's going to be a welcome sight, ain't he?"

The black man grinned as he moved past her into the living room. "You ain't kidding, sweetheart," he said, setting his burden down on the floor. He turned toward her and smiled hugely. "You ain't kidding."