Author's comments: I'm used to putting out about a chapter a day, but I slowed down with this one. I want to make sure I get the plot line right.

Better Days

Chapter Four

Part One

Olivia stared at herself in the mirror, shivering in her white puffy bathrobe. A black streak peeked out from her chest, and she pulled her robe tighter around her. She may have covered up the evidence of her wounds, but she still felt the burn, and she still couldn't get warm, even after a hot bath.

Her legs were weak again, and she cursed them as she shut the toilet lid and plunked down on it. And then she just rocked, shaking her head. Every bit of her hurt, and all she wanted to do was slip under her covers right now and rest her weary head. But she couldn't—still paralyzed by her obsessive flashbacks and the weakness in her muscles.

Elliot was waiting for her outside the door, she knew, even if he didn't say anything to her. He would be worried, but she had to sit here for a moment and collect herself. Just getting home had been a struggle.

She wasn't sure why it was so hard to walk—maybe the strain on her ankles from hanging her entire body weight from them, or maybe from all the drugs the hospital had pumped her full of. But he'd helped her into the house, still wearing the cheap clothes he'd bought her from an all-night discount store.

She'd reached her limit when she saw Noah, and she'd dropped to her knees, pretending it was because she was relieved to see him and not because she'd been too exhausted to stand anymore. It was a short-lived reunion, because soon after she hugged him, he was whisked away to a safe site for his own protection. Elliot had taken care of everything—paid the baby-sitter, made sure Noah had packed, dealt with his inevitable breakdown when he realized he'd be going away. And then, when everything settled down, he'd drawn a bath for her.

She had to be careful in the bathtub so she didn't splash any hot water on her burn marks. And then she'd made it out of the tub somehow by herself, but now she sat here in a trance on the toilet stool, remembering what she'd told Elliot during the MRI.

Doctors had told her she needed imaging of her brain to make sure there was no damage from the shock and no blood still pooling from hanging upside-down. Normally, she wasn't claustrophobic, and had undergone the procedure before. But this time, the trauma was still fresh, and despite her reassurances to Elliot, she began to panic as soon as they moved her into the tunnel-like machine.

Click-buzz…

She had flinched with each noise. Despite shutting her eyes tight, the darkness of the chamber only made the dark memories come in clearer, and now Wheatley was closing in with his cattle prod.

Click-click-click-click-click…

She could feel the device surrounding her, closing in on her, and in her mind she was hanging upside-down again with blood pooling in her head. She opened her eyes, but it was still dark, and she wasn't supposed to move or it could affect her results. But suddenly, she felt that if she didn't get out of there that her skin was going to crawl right off her, and she banged on the inside of the MRI.

"I can't…" she cried out. "Let me out."

She could hear Elliot's voice echoing her, even through the noise of the machine. "She needs out!"

Still, she wasn't moving, and now she felt so constricted that she might just throw up. She writhed inside the tube, scooting her body until she reached the opening, and pulled her head out of it. Sitting up, she grabbed at her chest, trying to suck in enough air to quench her panicked lungs.

Elliot was at her side now. "What's wrong?"

She answered him in between gasping breaths. "Too…confined. Can't—"

Elliot touched her back and looked up with worried eyes at the radiologist in the room. "What can we do for her?"

"I'll call in the nurse," said the young man in scrubs. "We can give her a sedative."

"Another one?"

But Olivia silenced him with a hand on his arm. She needed it if they were going to complete this test on her. He searched her face, his eyes squinted with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, her normal breathing rate starting to return.

After a while, a nurse came in and injected something in her IV, and she started to relax. She felt herself drifting off, but then she remembered the panic she had felt as the MRI had clicked and whirred around her. Just before she fell asleep, she gripped Elliot's arm.

"El."

"Yeah?" He patted her hand.

"Promise me you'll get him."

"Huh?"

"Wheatley. Get him for me."

That was the last thing she remembered before she dropped off, and now she turned the request around in her mind. Had she been asking Elliot to bring Wheatley in? Because, of course he would. Or, in her fog, had she been asking for something more?

Elliot knocked at the door of her bathroom now, startling her. "Everything okay, Liv?"

"Y-yeah."

She stood and opened the door, and the concern in his eyes made her want to cry. "Sorry," he said softly. "You've just…been in there a long time."

"I—I know. I'm sorry."

He touched her robed arm. "Don't be sorry. Take as long as you want."

She just stared at him, unable to take her eyes off his face while he stroked her arm gently. "No, I'm done now."

"Okay. Well, let's get you to bed."

But going to bed meant he was going to leave her side, and she wasn't ready for that yet. He studied her face, as if wondering why she was still just standing there. At that moment, she could no longer resist, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight.

As if he knew just what she needed in that moment, he rubbed her back and kissed her head, and she let all her fears and nightmares drain into him, along with a few tears. After a few moments in his embrace, she finally pulled back and headed to bed, and he followed her there. As he tucked her in, he said, "I'll go home now, if you want. The protective detail's out there, and I need to get ready to find Wheatley. He was gone by the time the local police went to the warehouse, of course."

She clutched his arm as if her life depended on it. "El, can you stay?"

He nodded awkwardly. "Yeah. Of course." He watched her like a hawk, undoubtable looking for signs that she needed him, but she gave him none. "I'll just…go sleep on the couch."

As much as she wanted him curled in the bed next to her, she felt like it would seem desperate to ask him. It had been hard enough to ask him to stay in her apartment. "Okay."

He leaned down to kiss her temple, and then he plodded out of her bedroom, leaving her alone with her own tormented thoughts and dreams.

Part Two

Elliot looked at his phone—2:30 a.m. He hadn't slept, and he'd been too nervous to peek into her room. It might seem creepy.

But when she'd asked him to stay, he had been secretly relieved to stand watch over her. Not that she needed anyone to protect her. She was fiercely independent, but it eased his mind to be here nonetheless. Wheatley was still out there, and he would be out for blood now that their testimony could put him behind bars.

He heard her voice from the other room, and as faint as it was, he decided it was time to put his timidity aside and check up on her. He peeked into her room, and she was still a lump under the covers, but she was mumbling.

As he cautiously approached her, he started to make out individual words.

"…anything…anything you want…please…" He couldn't see her face in the darkness yet, but she sounded desperate, imploring someone in her nightmares. "Please just let me live…"

With those words, he knew he had to intervene, to rescue her from her imaginary tormentor. He sat down on the edge of her bed and shook her by the shoulder. "Liv…wake up."

At first, she brushed his hand away. Then she sat straight up and cried out, startling him. The room was deathly silent for a moment, just before she said, "El?"

"Yeah, it's me," he whispered, trying to keep her calm. "It's okay."

Still panting from her dream, she said, "I'm sorry. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No." He rubbed her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she gasped, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand. "I don't think I'm going to be able to get back to sleep though."

Of course not. Why would she want to, when sadistic rapists and killers were awaiting her? "Why don't you sit up and talk to me for a while then?"

She nodded and crawled out of bed. In her living room, he wrapped her in a throw and sat down next to her. She burrowed in next to him, and her body folded into his felt so right. He didn't remember feeling so natural and at ease with Kathy next to him, although there may have been a time earlier in their relationship. They had been young when they'd started dating. But he and Olivia had been in a different kind of relationship for more than twelve years, until he left, and he didn't remember things ever becoming stale between them. Unhealthy, maybe. Toxic at times, perhaps. But he had always wanted her next to him, and he'd always wished she could be snuggled next to him, just like this.

Just not under these circumstances.

He put his arm around her, the silence between them strange but not uncomfortable as it would be with someone else. A wave of contentment washed over him, and he felt as if they had been a long-time married couple. In a way, they had been.

But something was gnawing at him. "Liv?"

"Yeah?"

He hoped he wasn't keeping her awake, but by the way she fidgeted, he doubted that she would be asleep anytime soon. "When you were going under for the MRI, you told me to take care of Wheatley."

"Did I?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure if you said it exactly that way, but something like that. 'Promise me you'll take care of Wheatley.' What did you mean by that?"

She sat up, attentive now. "I—I was drowsy, my mind foggy. I guess I just meant that you can't let him get away with what he did. All the things he's done."

He squirmed. "Yeah, but you know that's what I've been working on all along. If anything, I'm going to try even harder to track him down and take him in, and I won't stop until I do. You know that, right?"

"Y-yeah, El. I know that."

"Okay."

He wasn't sure if everything was okay or not. The way she had said it before—surely she hadn't meant… He tried to think of the most extreme meaning. When he'd witnessed Wheatley torturing her, causing her so much pain and humiliation, he had wanted to kill Wheatley right then and there. He probably would have, if he'd had the opportunity. Even now, he had vengeful thoughts about the man.

But what would he do now if he actually found Wheatley? He talked a big game, had threatened people before, but he'd never actually murdered a man in cold blood, and he couldn't imagine that Olivia of all people would want him to do that. Even someone as evil as Wheatley. She would want him to be arrested, to stand trial, and to be found guilty. She would want him to rot in a prison cell. But she would never ask Elliot to assassinate someone—it wasn't in her nature.

He put the request out of his mind and ran his fingers through her hair, and she didn't pull away. Instead, she snuggled even deeper against him, drawing her legs under her on the couch. He had secretly dreamed of this moment for years, often slapping the fantasy away before it could take hold.

She was too silent, but he could tell by the way she fidgeted that she was still awake.

"Liv, you okay?"

She pulled away from him slightly, and he could see her groggy eyes now. "Yeah. I'm just...I can't stop thinking about Wheatley, how he could go to such lengths just to get to you."

A flash of something glinted in her eyes—anger, maybe?

"There's no explanation and no excuse, you know. He's just evil."

She shook her head, staring straight ahead at nothing. "No. I don't believe in evil. It's not as black and white for me, El. He chose that path, chose to do those things to me…"

"Shhh…" He clutched her tight, unsure why he needed her to stop this conversation. Maybe it just hurt too much to think about what had happened to her, but that was selfish. "I'm sorry, Liv. How are your feet?"

She quietly scooted away from him and plunked her bare feet onto his lap so he could see close up. "They hurt."

He stared down at the damage Wheatley had done—her ankles were swollen and purple, and there were angry red lines where the zip-tie had cut into her skin. He wanted to touch them, massage away the pain, but he knew it would hurt too much, so he touched her calf instead.

"I'm sorry, Liv."

"It's fine. My head hurts worse. And the burns. But none of that compares to—" She clenched her lips shut and shook her head, as if realizing she was treading into territory she didn't want to talk about.

"To what?"

"Nothing." Her eyes turned dark. "To the torment he's been causing you."

He reached out his hand, and she took it. Then he pulled her close to him again and said, "Don't worry about me. I'm just worried about my loved ones. About…you."

"You're family's safe, right?"

"Yeah, they moved my kids and mother into a safe house. I worry about my mom, that she won't stay put."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, the doctor gave you something for your pain, and it might help you sleep too."

She looked hesitant, but finally she said, "Okay."

He got up and got the pills, pouring two into his palm and bringing them to her with a glass of water. She clumsily gulped them down, and he sat down next to her once more.

After she set the glass down, she said, "This is weird."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Just having you here like this." Then she shook her head again, as if she'd said the wrong thing. But it was exactly what he needed to hear, because she'd been mad at him so much lately. And he wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to see him again after what had happened to her, but here they were… "It's just…after all those years with you gone, and now…"

"We did used to have the best late-night conversations, didn't we?"

"Yeah. It was like losing a best friend." His heart jumped. First at the thought of how much his absence had hurt her, but then at the word 'friend'. That would never be enough for him, especially not after what they had just been through together.

He put his arm around her. "This okay?" he asked, even though he'd already done it several times tonight. He still felt the need to tip-toe around her for some reason.

"Yeah."

She leaned into him once more, and with her head against his chest and his face nestled into her hair, he began to drift off until he fell into a restless sleep.

When he awoke, he was lying on the couch and she was gone. He soon heard her rustling around in the kitchen, and he went to find her. She had a skillet out and was scrambling eggs with bacon already made. He rubbed his eyes. "Sleep well?"

She looked up at him. "No. I didn't sleep."

"Not at all?"

She didn't answer, just looked down at the spatula she was holding. "These are for you. I'm not hungry."

"You're not going to eat?"

She shook her head. "And you need your energy if you're going to go find Wheatley today."

"Liv, I don't know if they'll let—"

"You have to." Her eyes locked onto his. "I mean it, El. You know him better than anyone. I know they'll want to put you on leave. But even if they do, go find him without them."

He stood stunned for a moment, then said, "Okay." He took two steps toward her until he was close enough to touch her hand. "Okay, I'll do it. Anything for you, Liv."

He followed her orders, first going into the office to try and convince Sergeant Bell to let him work on the case. As expected, she refused. In fact, she put him on leave for two weeks and told him to take some time to "get his head straight." Those words infuriated Elliot, but he just balled up his fists and clenched his jaw before heading out the door.

But he had leads he could still follow. Wheatley would be in hiding now, laying low. Even his ex-wife Angela had disappeared, and he didn't want to see her right now anyway.

The sun was starting to sink below the skyline and he was on his way to question one more person when his phone went off. He didn't recognize the number, but he answered anyway.

"Yeah?"

"This is Amanda Rollins."

"Oh hi, Detective. How can I help you?"

"Well, um…I'm at Olivia's apartment. I just came to check on her, because I was worried about her."

"She okay?"

"Yeah." Amanda lowered her voice. "I mean, I think you ought to come over here."

Elliot took off at a full clip and headed back to her place. Amanda hadn't told him what was wrong, but he knew if she'd called, Olivia needed him.