AN: Sorry for the delay on this one - this chapter was tough and I wanted to get it right but I'm still not sure if I did. I just want to take this opportunity to reiterate that this is a heavy fic not a light and fluffy love fest (Rated M) so please only proceed if you're cool with that. Thanks heaps for your continued interest – appreciate each and every word!
She hadn't moved for at least half an hour.
She lay on the hotel bed staring up at the ceiling as the silent tears ran down the sides of her face trickling into her neck. He wanted the partner change, not Cragen. She felt completely betrayed and foolish for thinking he'd given two shits about her.
She had turned the phone onto vibrate and it had only just stopped buzzing a short while ago. She didn't want to hear what he had to say, she didn't want the excuses, the pity or the bullshit. She'd put everything on the line for him and he'd given up, just like that.
A knock on her hotel room door rattled her thoughts and she looked over at the clock.
11:23pm
It certainly wasn't housekeeping at this hour and her heart began to thud in her chest. She wiped away the tears and got up quickly, wishing she had the comfort of her weapon with her. She held her breath as she looked through the peephole and with a mixed feeling of anxiousness and annoyance she saw the familiar face.
Porter.
"Olivia, open up it's important," he called through the door knowing full well she was on the other side.
She sighed. "What are you doing here Porter?"
"Olivia, open the door." He had a concerned look on his face and she knew there would be a very slim chance of successfully refusing him.
She opened the door and he immediately pushed his way inside, she stumbled backwards as he slammed the door and locked the latch. Her breath caught at his abrupt nature and just as she was about to comment he cut her off.
"What did you say to him?" Porter was eyeing her with a look of disbelief.
Her eyebrows came together. "Who?"
"Silverman," Porter said with impatience. "What did you say to him?"
Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she spoke. "What is going on?"
Porter looked away and caught a glimpse of her open window. He stalked over towards it, pulling the blinds down. She felt a rush of apprehension flood through her.
"Porter, what the hell?" she pushed.
He took the steps back towards her and eyed her luggage. "Pack your things now, you're coming with me," he told her directly.
Her eyes widened and she laughed but it was devoid of humor. "No," she refused.
"Olivia, pack your things now," he repeated and she could see the frustration straining in his face.
"Tell me what's going on," she urged.
He moved then, grabbing her bag, tossing it onto the bed and beginning to collect her stuff. As he picked up a pile of her clothes she moved in front of the suitcase and blocked his efforts.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed shocked. When he tried to put the clothes in the bag she pulled them clean away and tossed them onto the floor.
"Tell me what's going on Porter, or I'm calling the front desk security," she said with a seriousness.
He just eyed her looking as if he would lose it at any moment. When he didn't respond she picked up the hotel phone and he launched at, her grasping the receiver from her hand. She didn't let go and in the heat of their struggle his body rammed hers into the bedside table. She dropped the receiver and it crashed onto the floor, the cord dangled awkwardly and the room went silent. She was half perched on the bedside table as he moved off her and put his hands up in apology. She was looking at him like she was going to kill him.
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
Her eyes narrowed at him and she felt threatened like he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Her hands gripped the phone base as a warning.
"Get out," she seethed.
A few moments of silence passed.
"Pack your stuff," he told her through gritted teeth. "Now."
She moved then, without another thought and brought the phone base up slamming it clear into his temple. It rattled him giving her enough time to scramble towards her mobile phone that was sitting on the bed. She saw the sixteen missed calls were from Porter, not Elliot.
What the hell?
He grabbed her then by the ankle and dragged her down the bed. She twisted around so she was on her back and he dropped his body weight on top of hers. He ceased the phone, tossed it to the floor and as she attempted to fight off his body weight he ceased her wrists.
"Get off me," she demanded still catching her breath. She could feel his ragged breath on her neck and was moments from kneeing him where it hurts when he spoke.
"Silverman is dead."
Her wrists stilled against him and her whole body froze. She felt dizzy and nauseous and suddenly she couldn't breathe.
"Your finger prints are all over his car and your business card was in his wiper blade. You've got about ten minutes until they come through that door," he choked on the words.
She closed her eyes and took in the information Porter was giving her.
What the fuck was going on?
"Come with me now, or spend the next week in interrogation," he stressed.
"But I didn't do anything-"
"A federal agent is dead Olivia, they don't care."
She started to twist against him again, moving her wrists making it known she was uncomfortable.
"Get off me you son of a bitch," she groaned under his weight.
He didn't move. "I have a gun and handcuffs Olivia, don't make me do this the hard way."
She couldn't believe this. The bastard was threatening her.
"Screw you," she spat and tried to knee him between the legs but his body was too close to cause any lasting pain. He groaned in her ear regardless and seized both of her wrists in one of his hands. He used his free hand to release his weapon and she felt it dig into her waist. She made a small sound at the pressure.
"Pack. Your. Stuff," he instructed.
Her heart was thumping madly and she was trying to catch her breath under Porter's weight. He released her wrists then, slowly as if testing how she would react once they were free. He then started to get off her and she felt an instant amount of relief when his body left hers. He was still holding the gun in his hands but he wasn't pointing it at her.
"Be smart about this Olivia," he warned.
She got up then, eyeing his hand carrying his weapon and shook her head at her helplessness. She picked up the clothes that were on the floor and put them into the bag. She collected the few items on the side table and her phone off the floor and started to walk to the bathroom. He followed her in there to ensure she didn't try anything and watched as she collected the small amount of toiletries she had.
She stuffed them in her bag and zipped it up. He picked it up and motioned with his hand that carried the gun to the door. That's when they heard it.
A knock.
She turned to Porter who was sporting a panicked expression and he motioned to the window. She felt uneasy. Why would he go to all this trouble just to help her avoid incarceration? She could easily justify her actions tonight and prove her innocence, there had to be something he wasn't telling her.
A second knock rattled the door, more impatient this time. Porter raised his weapon then, pointing it at her with urgency. He wasn't kidding around.
She moved over to the window, opened the blinds and the frame as quietly as she could. She climbed out onto the fire escape and Porter quickly followed, nudging her out. They made it to his car that was parked in a back alley and Porter tossed her bag in the back seat.
She took the passenger seat as he rounded the car and got in. When he didn't start the engine immediately she looked over at him and he was reaching for something. When he pulled out his pair of handcuffs her eyes went wide. He tossed them at her.
"Put them on," he said with an edge of irritation.
She picked them up and tossed them back at him. "I'm complying Porter, these aren't necessary," she told him pissed off.
She heard him exhale deeply before reaching over and grasping one of her arms. She pulled determinedly away from him but he yanked hard, snapping the bracelet around her wrist and before she had a chance to resist he had clicked the other bracelet into the door handle. She tugged on it a few times and realized she wasn't going anywhere.
"Son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath and sank back into the seat.
"I know you Olivia," he said quietly into the car. "I'm not taking any chances."
With that, he started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
They drove for twenty minutes before Olivia knew something was wrong. The backstreets of Washington D.C. were now long gone and Porter was turning onto the US-50 with signs pointing to Maryland.
"Where are you taking me?" she said doing her best to sound calm but the silence from Porter heightened her anxiety. She watched as he merged onto the four lane highway.
"What did you say to Silverman?" he asked her quietly.
Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest and she remained silent. She wasn't sure what he was referring to and wanted answers of her own.
"What happened to him?" she asked. She hadn't had time to process the fact that he was dead and she felt her throat constrict.
He ignored her question. "Why were you in his car?" He sounded angry.
She sighed, closing her eyes. If she didn't answer soon they would continue this cat and mouse game all the way to God knows where.
"He had too much to drink, I was driving him home," she said quietly. She had tried to save his life and ironically he ended up losing it.
Porter scoffed and Olivia narrowed her eyes at him.
"In other words, you plied him with alcohol for answers," he stabbed. "Jesus Olivia, did you screw him for information too?"
She couldn't believe this. "He got himself drunk and freely offered up information," she stabbed back defensively.
"That doesn't sound like Silverman," Porter pressed.
She smiled to herself. "I thought you rarelycrossed paths?" she said with sarcasm and watched Porter shift in his seat, uncomfortable at the knowledge she could have acquired.
She played on it.
"I know you went to college with him Porter," she continued. "I know he called you to confirm my identity but you still left me in there for fifty hours. I know you weren't in that hotel lobby by coincidence that night. I know you're full of shit."
She watched his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel and he was muttering something under his breath.
"You going to deny it?" she pressed.
He went silent then. She was looking at the side of his face and he was staring straight ahead. She shifted in her seat and when she tried to move her arm she realized she was still handcuffed to the door. Her mind wondered to where the keys might be and how far away her phone was.
"Despite what you think Olivia, I am doing this to help you," he told her.
She shook her head. "Bullshit," she laid into him. "I can easily explain my actions tonight but I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you can't say the same."
He looked over at her then, just for a second before returning his eyes to the road.
"You didn't give two shits when they had me locked up for fifty hours and now all of a sudden you're driving me cross country to avoid an interview-"
"This is a federal death Olivia and you're the last person to see Silverman alive," he yelled into the car. "They have witnesses placing you at the bar, having a verbal altercation with him and then getting into his car. That coupled with the recent interview treatment he put you through gives you motive. They don't care about the truth, they just want justice for an agent."
She fingered the handcuffs. She could see how it looked and it didn't look good but she still couldn't figure out what Porter had to gain from this.
"And what about you?" she asked softly. She looked over at him and he was confused by the question. "You tipped me off, led me to the Brewhouse to find Silverman, they can place me in your car, in your bed, they can track our past Porter - what?Afraid if they interview me I'll sell you down the river?"
He went silent and she was getting frustrated by the minute. She was so unbelievably sick of being left out of the loop.
He was merging on the MD-295 when he spoke again.
"You told me it was about a case," he said sternly. "You lied to me."
"How does it feel?" she said with spite.
"This isn't a game Olivia, you screw up at work and Cragen gives you a slap on the wrist and a paid vacation," he spat. "You screw up in mine and it's game over," he finished.
She closed her eyes trying to ignore all the information he had on her and just what Porter was up against.
"How was he killed?" she said quietly, knowing full well she wouldn't get an answer.
She was trying to get her bearings and when she saw a sign for Baltimore and the familiarity hit her suddenly. It had been harder to tell at night but he was taking the same route the officer had the other day. They were headed to New York City.
"Porter, it's past midnight, tell me we're not driving to the city," she pressed. When he didn't answer her, she sunk back into her seat and tried to get comfortable.
"What happened to Silverman?" she tried again.
Porter looked in his rear view mirror and then back to the road. "The less you know the better," he told her.
She closed her eyes and thought back to when she had first met him, so much had changed.
"I can't believe I ever trusted you," she said quietly.
"I've learnt not to trust anyone Olivia," he told her with a sense of sadness. "You should do the same."
She closed her eyes. She trusted Elliot with her life and that would never change.
I requested the partner change.
Then as if he were reading her mind he asked her. "You sleeping with him yet?"
Her eyes narrowed and she lost it.
"Go to hell." Her words vibrated through the car. She was so over the constant assumption that she was sleeping with her partner.
He raised an eyebrow and looked over at her. "I hit a nerve?"
She went silent then, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of biting back. She closed her eyes and lent back into the car seat, she was exhausted as hell but she couldn't relax, not when she was chained to a car door with Dean Porter.
"You know he followed you to D.C.," Porter told her and her eyes snapped open.
She took a few moments for the information to sink in. He couldn't have, he had no idea she was even going to D.C.
"No he didn't," she said dismissively. This was just another one of Porter's tactics.
"When you left the coffee shop," Porter started. "He cornered me." He lifted up his right hand for emphasis and she could see the fresh bruising.
Her heart started to race. She thought about the phone call she made to Elliot and how close he seemed. She thought about the knocks on her door tonight, after Porter arrived. If it really had been the FBI wouldn't they have announced themselves. Jesus Christ. Suddenly she was having trouble breathing and she felt like she was going to be sick. She looked over at Porter who was staring straight ahead with a deadpan expression.
"Like I said Olivia, trust no one."
She must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes again Porter was pulling into a gas station and had clicked off the engine.
He unbuckled his seat belt and she closed her eyes again pretending to be asleep as he exited the car. She waited until he filled up and headed into the shop before she opened her eyes again.
She sprung into action turning around, doing her best to reach her bag that was in the back seat. It was proving difficult with one free arm but she managed to secure one of the handles and drag it towards her. She did her best to unzip the bag as far as she could given the constraints and dug her hand in, pleading that the first item she would find would be her phone.
No such luck. She felt everything but - her toiletries bag, her clothes, her wallet and keys. She saw him heading back towards the car when she seized what felt like her phone. She pulled it out and dug it into her jean pocket just as Porter rounded the car.
Porter was holding an iced coffee and a bottle of water, he put the coffee into his cup holder and handed her the water. She shook her head and he looked at her strangely. He placed the water into the second cup holder and turned on the engine. He pulled out of the gas station and Olivia caught sight of a road sign indicating that Philadelphia and the New Jersey Turnpike were ahead and she got shivers at the memory of the wagon - hers heading to Philadelphia and Silverman's partner on route to New Jersey. They seemed to be on track. She thought about the phone in her pocket and the fact that Porter wouldn't be stopping anytime soon now that his tank was full.
She sucked in a breath. "I need to use the bathroom," she said quietly.
There was silence and she waited.
"We just stopped," he said with a strained sigh.
"Well I need to go," she pressed.
"You can hold it Olivia, you've lasted a lot longer," he said annoyed.
Her eyebrows drew together at his statement. She thought about the interview room and it clicked into place. Her stomach dropped.
"You were behind the glass," she said slowly as if it all made sense now. His avid interest in covering this up no longer seemed left field.
"You were working this case weren't you, with Silverman?" she pushed. She was looking at him now, demanding he answer her. He wasn't there to help her escape he was protecting his case, his ass. There was that nauseating silence again.
"How long did you know I was involved?" she said quietly.
Still nothing. Just as she was about to speak a sharp buzz vibrated against her hip and she jumped slightly. He looked over at her with a concerned look on his face.
"What was that?" he demanded.
"What was what?" She tried to feign ignorance.
It kept buzzing and he looked over his shoulder catching the unzipped bag. He turned the wheel pulling over abruptly and she grasped the car door for stability, car horns screeched and headlights darted from side to side.
He put the car in park.
"Give me the phone," he said loudly.
She just stared at him with a look of disbelief. "You could have killed us," she pressed.
He clicked his seat belt off and launched for her side pocket but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand and twisted it. He retracted it immediately and slammed his fist into the side of her seat.
"Damn it Olivia," he yelled.
Not sure why she was doing it she reached for the car door and opened it, quickly getting out. She was still cuffed to the door but he wasted no time getting out from his side. He slammed the door shut and rounded the car towards her. She dove back into her seat, pulled the door shut and reached over as far as she could to his side, hitting the central locking. She locked herself into silence and couldn't believe it had worked.
He was thumping on the window next to her, trying in vain to open her door but she had locked the car from the inside. She pulled the phone from her pocket and saw the missed calls from Elliot.
She hit return call and it rang. Once.
"Where are you?" Elliot's panicked voice began and just as she was about to respond a gunshot ripped through the glass window and shattered around her.
The phone dropped to the floor in her effort to shield herself from the glass and he was unlocking the door from the inside. He pulled it open and she went with the door, her ass hitting the ground, her wrist still hanging from it's capture on the door.
Porter picked up the phone and quickly silenced the call. She was still catching her breath, trying to block out the pain of the irritated skin around her wrist. Porter was looking down at her.
"Get up," he told her and his tone had gone from pissed off to livid.
Her heart was thumping in her chest. She didn't think Porter would have reduced to firing his weapon, that she wasn't prepared for. With a pang of fear she wondered what other lengths he would go to. She got up awkwardly, trying to pull herself up against the car door, she looked down at the broken glass on the seat unsure of how to proceed.
He tossed her phone then, sent it soaring clean into the bushes on the side of the highway and she felt unsteady on her feet. Cars were speeding past at a rapid pace and she wondered why none of them were stopping. He shoved his weapon back into his holster and stepped towards her, internally she was panicking but she did her best to look unaffected.
He dug a hand in his pocket and fished out the handcuff key and he uncuffed her wrist. He wasted no time grasping her elbow and pushing her roughly up against the side of the car.
"Hands out," he told her and she pressed her hands against the side of the car, confused as to what he was doing. She felt his hands pat down her arms then her torso, inside her leather jacket, stopping at her waist and jean pockets.
"Spread your legs," he spoke against the back of her head and she hesitated momentarily before reluctantly complying. He continued down her legs, feeling for anything else she might have put on her body she assumed.
When he found nothing he came back up her body and his hands moved across her stomach and up to the underside of her breasts. Instinct took over and she jerked back and jutted an elbow into his side. He grabbed her hard, pushing her up against the car, she felt his whole body sandwiching hers against the car.
"I'm not taking any chances Olivia," he explained.
She gave into his hold and her body relaxed against his, initiating submission. He came off her and spoke to the back of her head. "Get in the back," he told her quietly.
She felt nauseous and lightheaded and wanted answers. "What are you going to do to me?" she said quietly.
The moments of silence were unbearable as she felt Porters breath against the back of her neck. "Nothing, if you do what you're told."
She opened the car door and got in. He took the cuffs and attached them to the back door.
When he reached for her wrist she didn't resist this time as she had no chance against a loaded weapon and a man not afraid to use it. He shut the door and rounded the car and opened the door opposite her, he grabbed her luggage and moved it to the trunk.
When he got into the drivers seat he looked ahead for a few moments before he started the engine. He pulled out into the traffic and she felt him hit the accelerator, a lot harder than before. She watched the speed climb up and she instinctively reached for her seatbelt. When she tried to pull it across her chest she realized she was blocked by the cuffs. She was going to say something when Porter started talking.
"We have just under two hours until we hit the city and I don't want to hear another word," he told her directly with a seriousness she'd never heard before.
"I'm going to drop you off at your apartment and you're going to tell Stabler and Cragen and anyone that asks that you're fine. You don't say a word about this to anyone, not the case, not Silverman, not me," he told her.
She watched as they passed all of the cars on the road at an increasing speed and pulled the seatbelt over her arm and clicked it across her body regardless. She wanted to tell him to slow down, that it was dangerous but that would probably set him off at this point.
"When I drop you off Olivia, that better be the last time I see you or so help me God," he finished off out of breath.
She gripped the door handle out of instinct, her focus was not on his words but the cars on the opposite side rushing past at an insane speed.
She had to say something.
"Porter please slow down," she urged.
She knew then that whatever Porter was caught up in was bigger than Ben Hur. She wondered if she had been anyone else if he would have expended them hours ago. It wouldn't be a stretch, he had covered up a murders and put multiple lives on the line for his job. The whole corporation was corrupt.
"What did I say Olivia? Not another word. Do we have an understanding?" he asked her. When she didn't answer him, he turned then and caught a glimpse of her face. "Do we have an understanding?" he repeated more forcibly.
She saw it then, the car was drifting it's way into oncoming traffic. She heard the car horn and he read it on her face before her mouth opened.
"Porter!" she screamed. He turned around just as their car clipped an oncoming vehicle on the opposite side of the highway. She felt the car spin in circles and the gravity pull was relentless. She grabbed the car door and her seat belt simultaneously. She heard the screeching of the breaks, car horns and screams all melding into one. She squeezed her eyes shut waiting for the inevitable crash that would end it all.
The car came to an abrupt stop and she slowly opened her eyes realizing with an overwhelming sense of relief that they were still upright and intact. She saw the smoke around the car that was rising from the tires. Her breathing was erratic and she watched Porter turn his head back to her with a shocked but relieved look on his face.
"You ok?" he whispered.
She saw it then, the headlights, the noise, a car getting closer and she closed her eyes.
She felt it slam into them head on, she held on for dear life as they skidded backward before the whole car flipped and rolled, once - twice, she wasn't sure. She let out a gut-wrenching scream as she felt her seatbelt cut into her ribs and arm as gravity pulled her towards the roof of the car. She hung there, holding herself up with her free arm as the other was attached to the door, sandwiched between the seatbelt.
She couldn't see shit, she couldn't breathe. Her bearings were shot to hell and she couldn't hear Porter. She didn't want to look, she didn't want to think of the damage a head-on impact could cause to the front seat.
"Porter," her voice was weak and horse from the upside angle and she choked on the word.
"Porter, please," she repeated.
Please just be alive.
She could hear dripping coming from somewhere and she prayed that it wasn't the gas tank. Damn it, he had just filled the tank. She was shaking now as she reached towards her waist finding the buckle that would ease the unyielding cutting at her ribs and arm. She fumbled momentarily before she found it, clicking it a few times before it managed to release her.
Gravity gave way and her head hit the roof of the car, she moaned in pain and she could smell the gas now. The fumes were intoxicating. She felt it spitting against her, getting on her clothes, her skin. He was dead, he had to be. He wasn't saying shit and she would die here too because of these fucking handcuffs.
She twisted her body and urged herself to open her eyes and she saw him, trapped against the mangled carnage of the car. She looked at the seat next to him and had she been sitting there she would have been crushed by the massacre of metal.
"Porter," she reached out and managed to grasp his shoulder, shaking him. His head rolled immediately to the side and a spread of blood pooled downward. She tried to hold the tears back. The gas was pooling on the roof just above her head and she could feel it soaking into her hair.
She thought about Elliot and all the things she never got the chance to say. She thought about how angry he would be when he found out she'd done this to herself. She thought about Sin, the night she fought so hard to block out her bodies response to his. She thought about how badly she wanted to live now when previously death hadn't seemed so bad.
She launched forward and stretched herself as far as she could in an effort to reach Porter's pocket in search of the keys to the cuffs. Her handcuffs jarred her efforts and she couldn't get to him from that angle. The metal dug into her already raw skin and she dropped herself back against the roof of the car in defeat.
The tears came openly then, she knew it was hopeless. Her lungs were filling with the gas fumes and she could see the bright flicker of fire in the distant future. It was only a matter of time. She closed her eyes and tried not to let her sobs overcome her. She wanted to scream, yell, breakdown but her body was devoid of energy. Suddenly a thump next to her snapped her out of her daze, something had hit the side of her window.
She looked over and someone was there, attempting to smash her window. She blocked her face from the on coming object shattering the glass and relief spilled through her at the thought of survival. She felt hands scraping the glass away and grabbing at her bicep attempting to pull her out but she resisted. She couldn't turn to see them from that angle so she just yelled.
"I can't." She pulled at her handcuff for emphasis.
"Liv, where are the keys?" She heard his voice and she thought she must be dreaming. That wasn't Elliot, it was impossible. "Where are they?" he pushed with urgency. That was him, that was definitely him.
"Porter has them, but I can't reach," she sobbed reaching out her hand, showing him how far away she was. It was then that she noticed with a pang of dread that the fire was getting increasingly closer.
"Elliot Jesus, you need to get out of here," she yelled as she saw the fire running the oil spill on the highway, coming their way.
He ignored her. "I want you to slide out the window Olivia, legs first and I'm going to pull you out backwards."
She groaned. "Elliot, it's no use I'm stuck, get back before it's-"
He reached in and grasped her legs that were curled under the seat and pulled them through the window. She let out a sound of discomfort as he dragged her awkwardly out of the car. She came out face down with her arm still attached to the door of the upside down car. She had a clear view of the fire now, winding through the gas puddle getting closer and closer. She saw him attempt to slide through the window but she kicked him hard in the ribs and he fell backwards onto the cement.
"Don't," she yelled tears streaming uncontrollably. "Get out of here Elliot."
He watched her for only a millisecond before he pushed her aside and slipped his body through the small entrance of the car. She lent her head against the warm steel and waited because any moment they would both go up in flames.
She felt the heat then, the side of the car was on fire and she was screaming at him to get out of there. Suddenly he was moving himself backward, out of the burning vehicle and grasping at her wrist. He was shaking when he tried to insert the key and kept missing the lock, he inserted it on the third try and ripped the metal from her wrist.
He pulled her to her feet and they made it eight - maybe ten steps, when she felt the blast catapult them off the edge of the highway. She hit the ground hard and slid down the embankment into the foliage.
She landed with a thud and groaned as her hip connected with a tree stump. She closed her eyes at the cool feeling of the grass beneath her and took a few moments to catch her breath. She wanted to call out his name, ensure that he was okay but she couldn't get her voice to cooperate.
She finally managed to roll her body over and spotted him only a few body lengths away. It appeared she was flung further in the blast. He looked still but she wouldn't let herself think about the possibilities of what that could mean.
"Elliot," she called out from where she was lying, desperately hoping she'd see his body react to her words.
When he didn't move she crawled over to him and she felt every ache rip across her body. Her hip was killing from where she landed, her arm and stomach were stinging from where the seatbelt had cut her and her wrist was red raw. She made it to his side and saw the gash on the side of his head and felt the tears starting to well.
"El," she said softly, her hands cupping his face as she tilted his head to get a better look. When he didn't react she moved her hands down to his shoulders and shook him slightly.
"Elliot," she called out again, more desperately than before. She tried to suppress tears that were brimming at the surface. "Don't do this to me," she whispered to herself more than anyone.
She heard it then, a small moan and his left hand moved up and bumped her thigh. The relief soared through her.
"El, are you ok?" she shook him again and his eyes stammered open.
The tears she had tried to suppress spilled down her cheeks and he watched her struggle to formulate words. He let his thumb smooth across her cheek swiping away a tear before he moved his hand behind her head. A few beats passed before he pulled her lips down to his.
She let out a sound as he pressed his lips against hers and when she opened her mouth intent on protesting he pulled her lower lip between his. She melted into him as his other hand came up to frame her cheek and his tongue trailed the entrance to her mouth.
"El-" she tried, intending on stopping him but he used her open mouth to an advantage and moved in, kissing her hard. She moaned as his tongue found it's way into her mouth and she let herself go. As he grasped the lapel of her jacket intending on pulling her down further she somehow managed to push out of his grasp, her lips left his and her breathing was erratic.
"Stop El, we need," She was shaking from the adrenaline and his kiss, they needed to focus. "We need help."
She heard sirens in the distance and when she looked up she saw the headlights and smoke rising from the highway. She didn't understand why no one was rushing to their aid. When she looked back at Elliot his eyes were closed again, his hand still secured on the lapel of her jacket. She felt for his phone in his pocket and pulled it out. She saw the cracked screen and tried to work it regardless, but it was dead.
"El, can you move?" she asked him out of breath and he didn't respond. She shook him again and the hand that was holding her jacket fell limp to the ground. Her throat caught, this is not happening. With a shaky hand she moved two fingers to his neck and felt for a pulse. She could feel it, but it was faint.
She sprung into action and adrenaline must have taken over because she was kneeling now and pushing herself onto her feet. She felt the stabbing pain in her side and her hip but did her best to push through it and climb the embankment of the highway.
Slowly but surely she'd made her way up the hill and that's when she saw the debilitating destruction that had been caused. At least eight cars were smashed, upturned, with smoke and steam pouring towards the sky. When she caught sight of the fire engine and ambulance she let out the breath she was holding.
"We need help down here."
A minor head injury.
That's what the doctors were telling her and they'd have to keep him over night for observation. Using a payphone she had called Kathy and Cragen.
Cragen ripped her a new one, furious at the knowledge that she had gone interstate after a federal case when she was directly told to drop it and livid that Elliot had followed her. He told her she needed to get back to the precinct immediately, that the feds wanted her for questioning on the death of two agents and that he could only hold them off for so long.
She told Cragen she was staying with Elliot.
Calling Kathy had been harder. She asked her what Elliot was doing in D.C. and she wasn't sure what to say. She twisted the truth telling her it was for a case but she could hear the skepticism on the other line. Kathy asked her if she should come to the hospital and Olivia was surprised it was even a question. The hospital was two hours from the city and he was in recovery but despite the status of their relationship, he was still the father of her children.
"I think you should be here," Olivia said quietly.
She waited until Kathy arrived and it was that moment when the doctor told them they could see him. Kathy looked over at Olivia with a question in her eyes but Olivia wasn't sure how to answer it. After a few moments she spoke.
"You go," Olivia told her.
After a small moment of hesitation Kathy walked out of the waiting room and disappeared around the corner.
Olivia left the hospital.
She went home and washed off the gas, the blood and the tears.
She looked down at the gash across her abdomen, her arm, the purple bruise at her hip and the raw skin around her wrist.
Closing her eyes she slid down the side of the shower wall until she crumpled into the corner, with the piping hot water running over her head she finally allowed herself to break down.
She wasn't even sure why she was crying. For Sin, Silverman, Porter, Elliot, the crash, for everything that could have been and everything that wasn't. She had held it in for so long and she was exhausted.
She didn't want to talk to Cragen, to the FBI, to Haung, to Elliot - to anyone. She wanted to be left alone and somehow miraculously she managed to sleep through the night without interruption.
When she woke up the next morning to her home phone ringing, her entire body was aching.
Despite the insistence that he was fine they kept him in the hospital for second night. If they hadn't fed him so many painkillers he would have walked out himself.
Kathy had gone home to the kids the following morning and he hadn't seen or heard from Olivia since the crash. When he asked for her, Kathy had told him simply, that she had left.
He wasn't sure what he should do with that.
He needed to see her. He'd been chasing her for days now and just when he thought he could stop running, she slipped through his fingers again.
When he got back to the city he went straight to the precinct. Kathy had brought a change of clothes to the hospital so he didn't have to go home first. When he got to his desk he got a shock when he saw her coming out of Cragen's office. He recognized the surprise in her eyes too. She hadn't expected him back so soon.
"Hey," she said dispelling a breath.
"Hey," he responded feeling a little foolish at his dismal response.
He noticed Fin was watching them and it made him uncomfortable. He'd seen the footage and God knows what he was thinking right now. She was looking at him strangely and suddenly he was at a loss for words.
He scanned her body for any signs of damage but she was wearing a long sleeved v-neck top so he couldn't be sure. He wanted to pull her into a hug right then and there but damn it, he couldn't seem to get his arms to work. He had been behind her when he saw the accident and watched in dread as her car spun across the highway divider into oncoming traffic.
He thought it was all over.
Again.
The woman had nine lives.
She stepped forward and his heart rate inclined because for a moment he thought she was going to pull him into a hug. In the middle of the station with Fin looking their way and Cragen close by in his office. He realized then that she was just moving to get a better look at his head.
She tilted her head, eying the butterfly bandage on his temple.
"You ok?" she said quietly.
He nodded in response and felt a presence behind him. He lost her eye contact to the visitors.
"I've got to go," she started. "I've got to clear this mess up with the feds." She was grabbing her jacket from the desk that was no longer hers. She left then with the agents in tow and he realized he hadn't even asked her how she was.
After the accident, after Porter.
Cragen came out of his office moments later and a few beats passed before he spoke.
"Elliot, you should go home."
The feds had her for four hours.
She told her story multiple times to different agents. She answered different versions of the same questions. She was patient and cooperative and hid nothing because she had nothing to hide.
When she spoke about Porter she tried not to let the emotion show. She thought about the destruction in the front seat and how lucky she was that he'd put her in the back.
She didn't feel worthy.
She thought about Elliot, in D.C. on the highway, risking his life to pull her from the burning wreckage when he had a family and so much to lose.
She didn't feel worthy.
She thought about that mind-blowing kiss that happened in the heat of the moment and wondered if after his head injury he even remembered it.
She didn't feel worthy.
She thought about his face today and the way he'd looked at her. He had no words for her now and nothing left to say.
I requested the partner change.
When they told her she could go she was confused.
This was a murder investigation.
That's when they told her Silverman's case was a suicide.
She went out.
She needed to forget. She needed to not think about Silverman ending his life after she left his house that night because he gave up on his partner. She needed to not think about Porter's motives for deception. She needed to not think about the fact that she'd lost her partner. She needed to forget the lies, the betrayal, the destruction.
She needed a drink.
She put on a cocktail dress and she wasn't even sure why. She wasn't looking for attention or company but maybe that's what she needed, a stranger to help her forget, if only for a night.
It was a bar she'd go to when she needed to escape the horrors of the job. It wasn't particularly close to her house or the precinct. No one would find her here. She ordered a vodka martini because she liked the idea that it came with olives and all she'd eaten today was a half a cream cheese bagel.
She saw a guy across the bar and he was looking at her. It didn't take long, but it never did.
She looked back at him at held his gaze as she lightly fingered her martini glass.
She wondered how long until he'd have her on her back.
As she took a sip of her martini her mind wandered to Elliot and thatnight, she'd put all her energy into blocking out.
Sin.
His hands, his lips, his tongue, his hardness pushing into her thigh.
I'd fuck you before I hit you.
The martini was taking effect and she couldn't stop the on-flood of memories. His hands on her breasts, her ass, holding her down as she writhed beneath him.
She crossed her legs.
She couldn't do this, she couldn't think about him like that. She had never meant for it to get so out of hand but dear God had it been phenomenal.
This won't end if they think you want me.
She shook at the memory. He'd seen right through her because she'd done a shithouse job of masking her desire. No wonder he'd requested a new partner.
Her eyes moved back to the handsome stranger and debated whether or not she should make the first move but her thoughts were interrupted.
"This your idea of taking it easy?"
Her head snapped around and she saw him.
Elliot.
Taking the stool next to her at the bar like he'd only been gone moments.
She just watched him dumfounded.
"What are you-" she began.
"You don't have a phone," he told her simply as if that justified his presence.
Porter had tossed it.
"So you're stalking me?" she said shocked.
She watched as Elliot got the bartenders attention and ordered a beer.
"I came by your house," he started. "But you were getting into a cab." His eyes dropped to her choice of attire.
"So you followed me," she established with a less than impressed tone.
The bartender slid the open bottle in front of Elliot and she watched as he took a generous sip.
"You've been hard to get hold of lately," he told her quietly, not looking at her in the eyes.
She was angry. Angry that he'd followed her. Angry that he'd interrupted what she thought would be an escape from it all.
"How did you know I was in D.C.?" she asked him point blank, gearing for a fight. She knew the answer already but she wanted to hear him say it. She wanted to hear him tell her how he'd completely invaded her privacy. When he didn't answer she drank the remnants of her martini in one quick scull and slid off the barstool. She hadn't even had a chance to eat the olives.
Damn him.
"Stay out of my business Elliot," she told him as she grabbed her purse.
She felt him then, his hand wrap gently around her bicep preventing her from going anywhere. She didn't want to move then, she just wanted to stand there and continue to feel the heat radiating from his palm.
"I have a right to know what my partner is doing," he told her matter-of-factly.
Her words shook her from her daze and she pulled her arm decisively out of his grasp.
"I'm not your partner anymore remember, you made sure of that," she whispered.
She'd tried to keep the emotion from her voice but he had picked up on it. She needed to get out of there and away from those hands and those penetrating eyes.
Somehow she managed to turn away from him and walk out of the bar without stumbling. She hit the cold air and headed towards the main road to hail a cab. Her heels echoed against the pavement and she kicked herself for not bothering with a jacket.
She made it two blocks when she registered the footsteps behind her and she should have known. If he followed her to D.C. then he'd follow her two blocks. She exhaled sharply at his continued intrusive behavior and decided she'd end this now.
She whipped around and he closed the few steps between them.
"Go home Elliot," she fumed.
"No." He didn't miss a beat.
He grasped her wrist and pulled her towards a side alley, she would have done more to resist him but he'd caught her off guard and her heels were throwing her balance.
He moved her up against the wall and the motion combined with the alcohol made her head spin. She felt the turn in his demeanor, he was pissed.
"Can you really blame me?" He threw the question at her and she had no idea what he was talking about.
When it was apparent she wasn't following, he cleared it up.
"When my partner asks me to fuckher, it's kind of a deal breaker," he finished off angrily.
Her heart rate immediately ascended and she felt like she was going to loose her balance.
Had he really just called her on that? She couldn't breathe, she just looked at him, a complete loss for words.
"You got nothing to say to that?" he pressed somewhat out of breath and just watched her squirm.
She broke the eye contact. What could she say?She tried to will her heart rate back down.
"Elliot," she started in disbelief attempting to steady herself against the wall. She tried to conjure up any possible excuse or reasoning she could think of but knew she had nothing. "Things got out of hand," she admitted slowly.
He laughed then and rubbed a hand down his face. "You're damn right they did," he said. "Things have a habit of getting out of hand with you Olivia and I'm done watching you throw yourself under a bus." He stepped down then and began to walk away from her and somehow she managed to find her voice.
"I did what I had to do Elliot," she said with force.
As soon as she said it she wished she hadn't because he stopped midstride and his anger hit like a solid wall. He started to walk back to her, rapidly closing the distance and her heart thumped wildly in her chest.
A hand came up to rest against the wall beside her.
He moved in close.
"Bullshit," he rasped.
She could have let him go, she could have escaped this argument scot-free but she had to push it. Her back was up against the wall and he was caging her doing his best to intimidate. His eyes dipped to her lips and she got chills. A few heated moments passed as they continued down the column of her neck and over the top of her breasts.
"So what was the plan Liv, were you just going to go home with some random tonight?" he asked slowly.
She'd picked up the judgment in his voice and suddenly it riled her. She narrowed her eyes.
"When you manage to keep that ring on your finger for more than two seconds you've earned the right to judge me."
She saw it cut deep and she almost felt guilty. She'd said it in an effort to retaliate but also in the hope that he'd explain it because he hadn't said shit to her for months.
The apartment, the missing ring, the situation.
A marriage can't outlast a partnership.
It would now appear he'd lost both.
He shook his head and laughed quietly in that smug, arrogant, son of a bitch way that drove her insane.
"At least I tried a chance at a life," he stabbed back defensively.
She took the insult but didn't let it stew.
"I'm perfectly happy with my life Elliot," she fired back.
He scoffed at her statement and if he said 'bullshit' one more time she was going to slug him right then and there.
A few beats passed. She was determined to hold his eye contact but he was looking at her with pity.
"So sacrificing your body and your life is fulfilling for you?" he almost whispered.
She moved then, she wasn't going to stand there and take this abuse a moment longer but he shifted his arm, blocking her from leaving.
"Stuckey, Bushido, Sin - Jesus Olivia how much further are you going to go?"
She couldn't believe he was so blatantly dredging up their past. She let him trap her against the wall for a few moments before she spoke.
"And what do those all have in common Elliot?" she whispered almost out of breath. "They all saved your God - damned- life," she rasped.
As soon as the words left her mouth everything went quiet. She had meant it in defence. She hadn't realized how exactly it would sound and immediately wished she could retract it. He was staring at her with a look of disbelief as if it had all just clicked into place for him.
Her statement might as well have been a confession.
Seconds ticked over and she saw something flicker in his eyes that she didn't recognize and it made her nervous as hell.
His eyes dipped to her lips again.
"Kiss me," he whispered.
Her breath caught and her mind spiraled, she was panicking.
What the hell?
"Elliot," she started.
"Kiss me Liv," he repeated and leaned in dangerously close. "No cameras, no agenda, just your mouth on mine."
Her heart slammed into her chest and the nerves poured through her. When she didn't answer he lowered his mouth to hers and let his bottom lip drag across hers.
She closed her eyes.
"Don't do this," she whispered against him, she didn't have the self-control for this and her restraint was weakening by the minute.
She tried to move out of his capture once more but he was too quick, her back flattening against the wall as the hard plains of his chest pressed against hers.
She moved her hands upward to resist him but he was already encircling her wrists, pining them gently shoulder height on the wall behind her as his entire body moved in - a leg between hers, his chest against her breasts, his lips dipping towards her neck.
She made a small noise as his lips brushed the skin of her neck, goosebumps broke out over her body. His lips trailed up to the base of her ear and then he spoke.
"Lie to me Liv," he whispered and she held her breath. "Tell me you don't want this."
Her nipples were as hard as hell and she knew she'd have a slim chance at hiding her bodies reaction against the soft cotton of his shirt. A big part of her wanted to tell him to go to hell, that he had no right to so blatantly man handle her like this but dear God that would mean he'd let her go. She was powerless to do anything other than bask in the feel of his body against hers and she felt pathetic at her lack of self-control.
The leg between hers wedged in a little further causing hers to spread further apart.
"Elliot," she rasped.
"Say it Liv." His mouth traced her jaw line. "Tell me to let you go."
Son of a bitch.
She felt the heat in her cheeks and between her legs and she could barely breathe at this point let alone speak. He was an asshole and he didn't deserve it so easy, he deserved a fight.
"Fuck you," she whispered, her voice low now, effectively giving him his answer and he skimmed his mouth over her lips again, pressing his thigh between her open legs, causing a wave of pleasure to course through her. She made a noise, a vocal reaction.
"Open your mouth," he demanded as his lips smoothed against hers and her stomach dropped a mile. Her heart was hammering at this point, her legs practically jelly now, thankful for the small mercy that he had her pinned firmly against the wall.
His mouth closed over her bottom lip and her eyes slipped closed as he pulled it unforgivingly between his. She felt his tongue trail her lower lip but she kept her mouth closed, intent on making him work for it.
"Open your mouth," he repeated, this time his tone a lot thicker, almost in warning.
"No," she whispered in refusal, her heart racing at what he'd do.
His lips twisted into an amused smile and he rocked his lower half against hers once more, a moan escaping her and he wasted no time taking advantage of her open mouth. His lips crashed over hers and he plunged his tongue into her mouth. He was solid, strength and hard against her and it made her nervous as hell but turned on as fuck. They were in an alley, a public alley, she didn't do this and more to the point they didn't do this. But damn it she was powerless.
She decided she wouldn't encourage him, she wouldn't slide her tongue into his mouth to meet his or react to his touch.
But she wasn't going to stop him either.
When she felt his hands slowly release her wrists a pang of disappointment hit. Maybe he was coming to his senses and realized just where they were and just what he was doing. She got her answer when he used one free hand to hold her jaw line firmly as he continued to ransack her mouth as the other slid down her collarbone until he reached her breast. He cupped her boldly through her dress and she tried not a react when he thumbed her erect nipple through the thin material.
He was hard against her hip and she was trying to figure out if this was actually going to happen. If she'd let it happen, in some alley up against the wall. They haven't talked, they haven't fixed a damn thing between them and suddenly this was how he was going to deal with it.
His hand skimmed down the side of her torso, over her hip and across her thigh running over her bare skin. He slipped it under her dress and his fingers curled beneath her upper thigh, he lifted it up parallel with the ground and drove his erection firmly between her legs. She moaned into his mouth at the contact as he pressed firmly against her core.
Fuck. He wasn't subtle, he was slowly moving his cock against her as he continued to attack her mouth.
His hand released her leg and before she knew it, he was under her dress, between her legs, cupping the satin of her panties. She gasped into his mouth at how forward he was being. He was drawing two fingers between her folds and she knew he'd be able to feel the dampness through the material. She was embarrassed to be enjoying the prick that he had become tonight and had it been anyone else she wouldn't have taken any of this shit.
His lips released hers and he kissed down her jaw line until he reached her neck. He pressed his lips into a sensitive spot as he rubbed two fingers over her clit. She moaned louder than she intended, her response no longer muffled by his lips.
She was nervous as fuck, he was acting so brash, bold and unrelenting. A world away from the broken man that was flustered beneath her at Sin. She wondered how long he has wanted to do this to her, how many times he'd pictured taking her like this or if it was her performance at Sin that had set him off.
Without warning he slipped his hand inside her panties and she exhaled sharply as two fingers found the wetness between her folds. He moved her legs further apart with his knee and then drove two fingers determinedly inside her. She let a groan at the motion, her head lolling back against the wall as she stretched her thighs to accommodate him. She wanted to moan his name but didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
"Jesus Liv, you're so.." Elliot mumbled into her neck, his words trailed off. She didn't know what he was referring too but whatever it was, he was pleased.
He started up a steady rhythm inside her and with each stroke of his fingers she thought about his cock. Fingering her in public was one thing but fucking her..
She hadn't seen or heard anyone close by.
Would it really be so bad?
Her hand rested on his bicep, her fingernails digging deeper with each thrust. His mouth returned to hers and he slid his tongue in as his hand rocked waves of pleasure through her. She was close and she knew he could tell because her breathing was getting shorter. He pulled out all together and ran his wet fingers over her clit before driving back side of her.
She called out into his mouth and suddenly he was yanking her panties down her thighs and reaching for his belt buckle. Her heart thumped in her chest as her underwear hit the concrete and she stepped out of them. He pulled himself out of his pants, lifted her dress and grabbed her thighs, moving determinedly between her. He looked at her with pure desire as he lifted her up the wall, holding her hips. Her heels slipped off, dropping to the floor as she tried to remember to breathe. She exhaled sharply counting the seconds before he sank his cock deep inside her in one quick thrust.
"Fuck," he breathed into her ear as he pinned their lower halves against the wall, her body working in overtime to accommodate him.
Fuck.
She agreed. It was the only way to describe it.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her legs wider apart, hooking her ankles behind his thighs, encouraging him to sink even deeper.
His hands held her hips and he started the rhythm, gentle for the first few thrusts and then he picked up speed. She felt every inch of him slide into her and retract.
He had only just entered her but she could tell he was close. This was years of frustrating foreplay coming to the brink. Every argument, every fist clench, every curse word, every look he ever gave her and every touch.
She was still angry at him, for everything. Even for this - especially for this but the pleasure that was exploding through her right now won over and right now she couldn't care less. He was fucking her. That's all this was, a good hard fuck up against an alley wall. He was pissed at her, he was horny and he was fighting her with his dick. He'd done all but spin her around and fuck her from behind.
He shifted slightly so the angle meant he was rubbing against her clit when he entered her now and her fingernails dug into the back of his neck. Her head crashed back against the wall and he used her open mouth to his advantage, kissing her hard, wet and opened mouthed. He plunged his tongue in as he continued to slam her against the wall.
Fuck you Elliot. She wanted to say. Fuck you for it all.
He bucked against her. Once, twice and it triggered her orgasm. Her walls clenched around him and he let go along with her, spilling himself inside her in unison. He stopped thrusting and just held her against the wall as they both rode out their orgasms. He was breathing heavily in her ear and felt his body react to the after effects of her orgasm as her walls continued to contract around him.
She could barely breathe, she was shaking from the intensity and took a good while to get her breathing and bearings under control. When his head dropped forward and into her neck she waited only moments before she tried to move out of his hold, unhooking her ankles and attempting to slide downward but he kept her against the wall. His hands still gripped her hips, supporting her weight as she started to register the ache.
She tried again, this time with more vigour and managed to slip down the wall. He reluctantly pulled out of her. She grimaced at the sudden discomfort and wobbled a little as she planted her feet, unsteady. Without looking him in the eye she dipped down and scooped up her underwear and purse. As she pulled herself back up the wall she heard him zip up his pants.
She was sliding her feet back into her heels when he stepped forward to touch her but she dodged his advances, side stepping him. She looked at him for a few unyielding moments, just blinking at him, expressionless. When he didn't say anything to her she looked away uneasily and after a few beats she started walking away from him towards the street.
"Olivia," he called out to her back and she heard the hurt and shock in his voice at her sudden 180. She didn't turn around so he came up behind her grasping her forearm gently.
She turned only slightly before looking him in the eye.
"Good night Elliot," she told him quietly and he just stared at her with a raw sense of anguish that almost killed her. She didn't wait around for a response, just pulled herself from his grasp and walked out into the night.
TBC
