Olivia woke in a cold, pitch-black room. Her head pounded as she put the pieces together of the last events she remembered. One minute she'd been negotiating for her life in her home and the next, she was being paraded out of the back of the complex at gunpoint. There had been a struggle, resulting in her being disarmed and rendered defenseless.

Her eyes adjusted to the blackness that surrounded her, trying to make sense of her location. She felt a chair beneath her; her arms tied behind her back and handcuffed to the back of the chair.

"Someone is awake."

She glanced around at the sound of the voice she heard, trying to locate it. It was then that she noticed the red blinking light above her and her heart sank as words from that day in the squad room came back to her.

He films his victims.

It wasn't long before a door opened and the silhouette of Jerry Craig appeared at the top of the staircase as the room was flooded with light. Olivia grimaced as she squinted, barely making out the stairs he descended, each clank of his boots against the concrete floor more menacing with each step.

"What do you want?" She asked as she watched him come to a stop in front of her. Her eyes were trained to be on him, to anticipate the next strike of attack.

Granted, she was pretty much defenseless, strapped in a chair in the middle of the room.

He reached above her and smiled cruelly as he tugged on a string, bringing to life the single lightbulb above her, illuminating his face like a horror film. It was then that she noticed the blood stains on the floor around her and her heart rate quickened.

"What do I want?" He echoed. "I want your husband to pay for what he did to me."

Olivia's eyebrows creased momentarily, evoking a laugh from him.

"Oh, come on. How did I know you two were happily married? I observe things." He moved closer to her, starting to circle the chair. "While I was being held in interrogation that day, I could see you two. And you, my dear, caught my attention." His hot breath rolled across her skin and Olivia grimaced, jerking her head away from his foul touch.

"Body language speaks so much louder than mere words," he said as he continued his steps around her. "Watching you two, seeing the way he looked at you, then this," he glanced down as he ran his finger up the curve of her belly. Olivia glared at him, refusing to speak. "Pictures among the desk…wasn't hard, really."

"But, why?" She asked. "You're a free man." She chuckled to herself and added, "Though you won't be after this."

"You say that as if we are both making it out of here alive."

"Elliot will have the entire NYPD looking for me."

"And yet…here you still are. The entire NYPD searching for you and yet…" he taunted, counting the number of hours she'd been held on his fingers. "It's been twenty-four hours, you're still here, and he is nowhere to be found."

"He will find me," she repeated, "Abduction of an NYPD officer will look great on your track record," she added as she narrowed her eyes at him, not falling into the game he was trying to play.

"Shut up." Jerry rolled his eyes. He shook the pistol in his hand out of the shadows before knocking it against her skull. She winced as searing pain shot through her system, as she felt blood seeping through her hair.

"I want to taunt him. What better way to do that than to go after his precious family? He's had it out for me for years so I figured, what better way to return the favor? I could have gone after his children, you know."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, but I would." He nodded. "In a way, I did with you I. Killed two birds with one stone, for the lack of better words."

"It doesn't have to be like this. We can both walk out of here and I'll tell you were cooperative, that'll help you out," Olivia bargained.

"No. As tempting as the offer is….no."

She felt a tightening in her stomach but refused to acknowledge it, refused to let him see her in a weak moment. "You can talk to Elliot, work out whatever this is-"

"I don't want to talk." He gazed across the room as he began to pace, transporting himself back in time as he replayed memories. Olivia knew she was losing him to the past as he continued.

"Cynthia fought." He smirked at the memory. "Cried out for her mother until the very end. She was my first." He turned back to her. "Jessica begged and pleaded for her life, offering any and everything in order to be spared. And Melissa, well….I think she wanted to die. She froze. Didn't fight back, didn't beg…" He stopped in front of her again. "But this last one….it wasn't me. It was a copycat. Someone who's watched me, studied my patterns and is imitating me. Real bitch to be blamed for something you didn't do, isn't it? You, having to answer for your husband's misguided actions and bias? Me, for a murder I didn't commit. We're one and the same, really." He paused. "So, Olivia," he said, drawing her name out on his lips. "What'll it be? Fight, flight, or freeze?"

"None of the above." She narrowed her eyes at him as he crouched in front of her.

Jerry laughed again, smiling darkly. "I think someone needs to reevaluate her choices," he said as he pulled a rag from his back pocket. He was stealth in his movements around her and before she knew it, she was struggling against him, the rag covering her mouth and nose.

"Breathe in deeply," he said sweetly, pressing it harder against her face.

Olivia struggled the best she could, trying to refrain from breathing in the chloroform but ultimately lost the battle. She went limp in the chair as Jerry threw the rag over his shoulder and headed for the stairs.

The first twenty-four hours were a blur. Elliot felt frozen in time as the world moved around him, not stopping for his grief for one second. He lived at the precinct, trying to find the slightest possible clue to what had happened to her and what was happening now.

Cragen had ordered him to go home, shower, and try to get some rest after they'd hit the twenty-four hour mark of Olivia being gone. He'd begrudgingly went home and pulled himself into the shower upon arrival. He let the steamy water of the shower roll over him but nothing washed away the feeling of despair in the pit of his stomach.

He walked into their bedroom, still in a daze when his eyes landed on the container of shea butter on his nightstand.

HIs emotions came together in a force, a hurricane inside of him, and the next thing he knew the container was flying across the room. It clanked to the floor as it spun and splattered around.

Elliot ran a hand over his tired face, feeling his stubble start to grow in, feeling the sharpness of it tickle his palm. He was beyond tired - physically, mentally, and emotionally - to even worry about sharing right now. He made a fist and slowly grazed the wall with it, rattling the framed photograph of them on the wall.

He sighed and looked at their bed; there was no way he could sleep tonight without her. He wouldn't rest until she was found, until he knew she was safe again.

Here. In his bed, in their home, in his arms.

He shook his head before grabbing a jacket out of the closet and heading for the door.

"I thought I told you to go home, Detective," Cragen said a short while later as he watched Elliot walk back into the squad room. He and Fin were perched in front of the white board, scribbling out theories.

"I can't," he whispered, looking at his boss with pleading eyes. "I can't be there without here. Please. Just let me stay here until we find her."

Cragen softened as he looked at Elliot, recognizing the pain and hurt in his demeanor. "Fine. But you will try to get an hour or so in the crib. That is a direct order."

"Yes, sir." Elliot nodded before taking off through the squad room towards the crib. He shut the door behind him, not bothering to turn the light on. He sighed heavily as he sank to the floor against the heavy door, surrounded by pitch blackness and the weight of his sadness.