I am so sorry that it has been so long since the last update. This was a difficult chapter to write, and it will be a difficult one to read. I battled about whether it should be softer or harder, but in the end - if Lewis showed a vulnerable side, he would immediately come down hard to make up for it.

Hopefully, the chapter will be worth the wait. As always, feedback is appreciated.

She was warm. And comfortable. Finally. If only she could stay in this position. Sleep the world away. Maybe then, it wouldn't be so bad. Olivia felt a pull on her hair and grunted in response. She wasn't ready to face the day. A familiar chuckle reached her ears, and a shiver ran through her.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Lewis announced cheerfully. "Time to get up."

Olivia peeled her eyes open and looked around the room, trying to gather her senses. They returned to her slowly, like they were at the edge of a rope she had to pull towards her. Olivia's eyes darted down to the black material her head rested on. Her brow furrowed. What was that?

"Sleep well? Certainly sounded like it," Lewis commented as he combed his fingers through her hair, Olivia's head tucked under his chin.

Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized her position. "No," she whispered. Olivia tried to roll away from him and froze at the unexpected jolt of pain between her legs.

"Easy there, baby. Where are you going?" He tightened his grip, holding her firmly in place.

Olivia's face twisted in disgust as she felt his laughter. The rest of her senses snapped in place, and she was suddenly much too aware of her surroundings. They were lying on the mattress, the blanket tucked around the both of them. Her head rested on his chest, her vision focusing enough to identify the black material as his t-shirt. Panic started to suffocate her as she realized her body curved around his. Olivia's head swam as she renewed her attempts to roll away, feeling something similar to claustrophobia. But her hands were cuffed behind her back, and no matter how hard she tried…she simply had no leverage in this position. The harder she tried to get off him, the more Lewis tightened his arm, keeping her close to him.

"What a night, right?"

A whimper escaped her lips. Olivia had blocked most of it out, but what she did remember made her skin crawl. His hands explored her body, the calluses from his hands catching on her scabs. His hot breath puffed in her ear, causing a wave of goosebumps down her neck. His pretended words of gentleness floated around her while he painfully forced himself inside her. Over and over and over.

Her body ached with a soreness she could never describe. The assault had lasted for hours. Even then, it had taken her at least ten minutes to get dressed. Her body was clumsy. Tired. Hurt. And far before she was ready, Olivia had felt the familiar coolness of metal circle her wrists, and a harsh hand pulling her back to bed.

She laid awake for a long time, her tears and heartache growing with each breath she took. It was a restless night, but she had apparently fallen asleep a few hours ago. Though how she ended up half on top of him was a question she had no desire to answer. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Of course you do," Lewis commented as he stretched. "Beginning to think I should just lock you in there as much as you have to go."

Feeling Lewis lift his arm, Olivia scrambled for the opportunity to move. She had to get away from him, no matter how much it hurt. She'd endure nearly anything to create distance between them.

He grinned as she maneuvered to the edge of the bed. "That's the thanks I get for keeping you all toasty last night?"

She frowned and looked away. Her cheeks turned red, made darker by Lewis' laughter.

"Up we go then." Lewis pushed himself off the bed, his face twisting as he did so. "I'm gonna have to take it easy today. My back is killing me."

Olivia observed him warily from the bed. His back had only bothered him a handful of times in their months together. His nameless work injury had left its mark, flaring occasionally. It either made him very cranky or very laid back. Hopefully, today would be the latter.

"Come on. Up you go." Lewis motioned for him to join her as he stifled a yawn.

She bit her lip and rolled her legs off the bed. Maybe she could get up on her own. Olivia pushed against the mattress with her cuffed hands, trying to gain leverage to sit up. She managed a few inches before her hands slipped against the material. She groaned in frustration as she fell backwards.

"Need some help?"

She hated him. With every cell in her body, she hated him. The air he breathed. The noises he made. The mocking jabs he threw at her. But as he was so eager to remind her, Lewis was all she had at the moment. Like it or not, she couldn't get up by herself. And wetting the only clothes she had didn't sound appealing. "Yes," Olivia gritted out.

Lewis moved towards her, a smirk growing on his lips.

Olivia yelped as he rolled her over, a stabbing pain moving through her body. She twisted her head to the side, struggling to breathe.

Lewis uncuffed her left wrist and kept a tight hold on her right. "Get up."

Olivia pushed off the bed with her one hand, closing her eyes against the spinning room. But Lewis gave her no time to adjust, spinning her around and locking her hands in front. "Move."

She lurched as Lewis propelled her forward, ignoring her hiss of pain.

"Found the apples last night. Figured we could eat some for breakfast. How does that sound? Pretty sure there's a box of granola somewhere around here too," Lewis suggested.

They passed into the kitchen, and her nose crinkled as she spied the food in question. As unappealing as they looked, she was glad pop tarts weren't on the menu. Her stomach had endured enough of those. When she got out of here, she wanted a hot meal. Olivia didn't even care what it was at this point. A burger, Chinese food, a steak. It didn't matter. She just wanted something hot.

"You go on to the bathroom," Lewis instructed, his hand falling from her back. "I'll start cutting up the apples."

Olivia turned to face him, not comprehending his words. "What?"

"My back hurts. The last thing I need to do is haul you around the house. You said you have to go. So go," Lewis waved at her impatiently as he reached for his pocketknife.

"By myself?" Olivia asked incredulously.

Lewis rolled his eyes and opened the bag of apples. "The boogie man won't get you."

"No, no – I know. It's just…" her voice trailed off. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, one she couldn't identify.

He bit back a laugh and pulled out an apple. "There's nothing for you to get into. The tools are put away. The door is locked, the windows are sealed. And I have the gun."

Olivia's face fell as Lewis gestured to the black firearm on the counter. Her cloudy mind couldn't keep up with where he kept it.

"I told you – I'm not babysitting you every second. If you want to do something stupid, that's on you. Just remember," his tone turned harsh. "I can pick up another Allison whenever I want. So you should behave."

Olivia's eyes darted around the room, unsure of what to do.

Lewis sneered at her uncertainty. "Don't just stand there. Go," he insisted with annoyance. "And hurry up."

Olivia gave him one more look, as if checking to see that he was really serious. At his scowl, she turned around and headed for the bathroom. Her scratched feet drug the floor, her muscles far too rigid to be much use. She stumbled through the living room, catching a glimpse of the dead bolted door. Her heart grew heavy at the sight. No wonder Lewis wanted to stay here. He was building it into a fortress.

She took another step forward and felt her knees buckle. Olivia fell towards the wall with a cry, terrified Lewis would burst into the room in anger. Her heart pounded as she waited for his fingers to tangle in her hair. Or his hand slapping her face. At the least, the sound of his boots angrily thumping into the room. But she only heard the steady chop of apples. Her heart rate slowly returned to normal as her confusion mounted. She brought her cuffed hands up to her forehead and tried to rub the tension away. What was happening? What was Lewis doing?

Her mind scanned through the past few days, struggling to process everything that had transpired. After a few seconds, her head dropped. Of course. How had she not see it? Lewis was smart. Effective. Manipulative. He had spent every day making her rely on him. He fed her, bathed her, and always keep her under his thumb. Even now as she took her first trip to the bathroom alone, she felt unsteady and unsure of herself. As much as she fought him…as much as she tried to block his mental games…she hadn't been all that successful. He had conditioned her.

Olivia swiped away a stray tear and cursed the hormones making her a walking tear duct. This was getting her nowhere. If Lewis was giving her the small freedom of going to the bathroom, she would use it. Olivia forced herself to start walking again, holding the wall for stability. Lewis wouldn't be happy if he found her standing still.

She slowly made it to the bathroom, feeling something akin to relief. Being alone had never felt so good. A part of her wanted to stay in there forever. Free from Lewis' taunts. His hands. His games. But Lewis would get upset, and she didn't need that. So she did her business and headed back the way she came, scavenging her soul for every ounce of self-control she possessed. It would take all of it to keep walking back to Lewis.

She made it halfway through the living room before her muscles gave out again, sending her crashing to the floor with a self-loathing growl.

"Struggling?"

Her eyes closed at the amusement in his voice. Of course he was watching her. Lewis wasn't dumb enough to give her free reign of the house without staying close behind.

Olivia pushed herself to a standing position, swallowing the scream in her throat. Her feet had broken open again.

"That looks painful." Lewis stood in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed, observing her stilted movements with an innocent smile.

She rolled her eyes at his mock sympathy. He didn't care. No, she reconsidered. That wasn't true. He did care. She was his own twisted entertainment system, and she was sick of it. Olivia gritted her teeth and determined not to give him anymore satisfaction. She lifted her foot and attempted to step forward, but her body had done all it was going to do. It had gone on strike and was unwilling to function. She fell to her knees, barely stifling the scream in her throat, humiliation burning her from the inside out.

Lewis chuckled and walked towards her. "If only your friends could see you now." His hands lifted her on to the futon, pulling her into a sitting position. "Let me look at your feet."

Olivia's eyes rounded, and she shook her head anxiously. "They're fine."

Lewis gave her a scolding look, as if he were dealing with a rambunctious toddler. "I'll be the judge of that."

Olivia bit her lip as he lifted her feet, terror coursing through her veins. His touch sent shockwaves through her skin, pulling a groan from her lips.

"They look a little rough." Lewis frowned at the angry red marks on her feet. "I think there's another bottle of alcohol in the kitchen. We should clean them again."

"They're not that bad," Olivia countered with worried eyes. "Really, they don't even hurt that much."

"Yeah? Is that right?" he asked with a knowing grin, digging his finger into one of the opened wounds.

Olivia cried out and jerked her foot away from him.

"They seem a bit tender to me," he noted with a wink.

She let out a shaky breath, trying not to fall apart. The agony of alcohol on open wounds wasn't something she wanted to repeat. Olivia jumped as she felt his hand brush across her cheek. Her eyes shined with tears, the wetness puddling until it threatened to spill down her cheeks. Too much was happening. She didn't know how to make sense of it.

"Hey," Lewis whispered as he cupped her cheek. "It's not that bad."

Olivia's face twisted as she pulled away from him. She didn't want his comfort.

Lewis grinned at her growing defiance. Just when he thought he had successfully beaten her down, Olivia's resilience came sputtering back up. His hand dropped to play with the ends of her hair, Lewis not easily deterred. He liked the challenge. "The sunlight hits you so perfectly in this spot," he said softly as he drank in her pained expression.

She glanced back at him and took in the hungry look in his eyes. Her face fell. Not again. She still ached from last night. Her body couldn't handle another round.

His hand lowered to her waist, grabbing her sweatshirt.

"No!" Olivia lunged off the futon, intent on getting away from him.

Lewis laughed and caught her easily, throwing her back down to the futon. "Oh no, you're not going anywhere."

Olivia let out a sob and started to roll away from him. His fingers tangled in her hair, halting her movement. Her head snapped her backwards, proving he was indeed a man of his word. Lewis pulled her back to him, and Olivia increased her struggles. She didn't want this. She never wanted it, but especially not today. She brought her cuffed hands up to fight him, but it was like using a flyswatter on a snake. It only fueled the fire.

He laughed at her attempts to escape him and captured the chain between her hands. "There's my spunky little girl." Lewis pulled her hands above her head, pinning Olivia's wrists down with one hand.

Utter panic began to sink into her heart as he held her down. "Please don't," she pleaded with a broken voice. Her eyes begged him to stop, to wait. But he only smirked in response, the lust in his eyes increasing with her struggles.

"Is this what happens when I let you sleep in?" Lewis asked with a laugh. "You get yourself all riled up?"

His hand awkwardly pulled at her pants, his task made harder by her continued twisting. Lewis could have ended it with one threat. He could have pulled out his knife and held it to her throat. He could have threatened to hurt someone if she didn't stop. But he wouldn't find that as entertaining. His fingers eventually snagged the waistband and yanked the pants down, victory shining in his eyes.

Olivia cried as the air hit her thighs. She wanted out. Right now. Away from everything to do with Lewis. Her body writhed underneath him as she pulled against his hold with all her strength. But her body didn't have that much to give. His one hand easily held her in place, deflecting her struggle with an arrogance that made her stomach turn.

He made quick work of unbuttoning his pants, rolling on top of her with precision.

Olivia turned red as he closed the distance between them, her lungs not getting enough air. "No!" She brought her knees up with renewed energy, trying to kick Lewis off her.

"Easy there, baby." Something disguised as gentleness softened his tone. "Don't hurt yourself."

Lewis captured her lips with bruising force, grabbing her jaw and tightening his grip until she opened it with a cry of protest.

Her skin crawled at his touch, like something inside her was clawing to get out. She couldn't keep doing this. Olivia twisted and pulled, but his hold on her was unrelenting.

Lewis finally pulled away from her, his hands positioning himself at her entrance. "I love it when you're like this."

"Lewis, please. You'll hurt the baby," she forced out through her tears.

He paused and glanced to her growing stomach. "If you're still pregnant after everything else I've done to you…I doubt this will make a difference."

Olivia choked back a cry as he entered her, the fight leaving her system as suddenly as it had appeared. Her eyes darted around the room, landing on the window a few feet away from her. Freedom was just outside it. But even to consider it was a joke. There were far too many things in her way. As she considered her options, she realized with a mounting sense of horror that she couldn't leave. Lewis had ensured there was no way out. She could probably break the window, but she had no shoes. Her feet were already torn to shreds. It would be too risky.

Lewis leaned in for another kiss, this time going for her lower lip. His teeth closed around it, bringing a sharp squeal of pain. "Stay with me, baby."

Her eyes darted back to him and found his cold eyes inches from her face.

"Good girl."

Olivia dutifully kept her eyes on him while her mind wandered. If she couldn't get out, that meant someone had to find her. Here, in this hidden house…somewhere close to Canada. Desolation threatened to drown her. How could she lead her team to this house if she didn't even know where it was? If Lewis never let her out?

She grunted as he made a harsh move with his hips. It was time for a new plan. She was going to get out. But it would have to be from someone else opening the door.

"This is insane! I'm a happily married man."

"You think I give a crap about your home life?" Fin slammed his fist down on the table. "I know you raped that girl."

The middle aged man across from him jumped, losing the color in his face. "I would never hurt a woman."

"Then why do we have two eye witnesses who say you did? And the rape kit? It will come back with your DNA all over her."

The man swallowed hard and crossed his arms. "You're bluffing. I didn't do anything. And if you had anything on me, I'd be in jail instead of in this room."

Fin shook his head with an angry scowl. "Trust me, you don't want to mess with me today. We have enough evidence to put you away for life. You'll miss the birth of your grandbaby. You won't see your son get married. And if you think your wife will stick around after this comes out…" Fin's voice trailed off as he stood up. "You know what – have a nice life. Deal's off the table."

The suspect's eyes widened, the consequences making his head spin. "Wait!"

Fin threw a look over his shoulder, his hand already on the door knob.

"I can't spend the rest of my life in jail. It would ruin my family. What kind of deal are you talking about?"

Fin rolled his eyes and opened the door. "Like I give a damn." The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the shaken man in silence.

Fin came to a halt as he saw Cragen waiting for him on the other side of the door. "If he wants to talk, we should get Barba in here to make a deal."

Fin barely acknowledged his comment. "Cowards like that don't deserve a deal."

"That's not up to you." Cragen rubbed his head. "We need to be fair about this. A deal would save the victim from a trial. You need to go back in there. Get him to talk."

"I'm done. Get someone else to talk to this lunatic." Fin handed him the case file and moved for towards the squad room.

Cragen stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Walking away from suspects who want to talk, that won't help Liv."

Fin scowled and tried to move past the captain. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture. Everyone else in their squad was in up-state New York. Handing out fliers to every store within a fifty mile radius of the last store Lewis was sighted at. The papers depicted a picture of William Lewis and Olivia Benson. Offering a $500.00 reward for any information on their whereabouts. Meanwhile, Fin was stuck trying to hold it together at home.

"Fin." Cragen's voice softened. "Liv wouldn't want this."

He narrowed his eyes, wanting to argue that Liv wanted to be found. She would understand some perps aren't worth talking to. That those men just needed to rot in a dark cell. She would understand he had to go help his team. That he had to help her. But the sadness in Cragen's eyes stopped Fin from saying those things. He understood the self-loathing and anger. Everyone in the department felt it. They had let down one of their own.

"This will never stop being hard," Cragen acknowledged. He lowered his eyes to the floor, as if expelling the words drained all his energy. "But that doesn't mean we stop doing our job." He took in a deep breath and put his captain hat back on. "Call Barba and tell him Mr. Atwood wants to make a deal."

Fin frowned and started to argue. But this time, he heard Liv's voice. She was telling him to go. Be a cop. Do the things she couldn't do. And how could he argue with that? If he couldn't find her, the least he could do is fight for justice the way she did. It's what Liv would do if she were here.

Cragen handed him back the case file and took a final glance at the wilting suspect before walking away.

Fin gripped the manila folder and reached for his phone with a sigh. These days, calling Barba was like sticking your hand in a pot of boiling water. Of course, everyone in SVU was angry. And if you were unfortunate enough to rile anyone up, you were bound to get a few burns in the process. Barba was no different. It just so happened that he got riled up about pretty much everything. Which made talking to him almost impossible. Fin dialed the ADA and reluctantly put the phone to his ear.

"What? Your squad forget that email exists? Or do you just want to make my life as difficult as possible?" Barba barked through the phone.

Fin rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long day. But then again, every day was a long day.

Lewis collapsed on top of his prisoner with a contented sigh, trying to catch his breath.

Olivia turned her head away, hoping to escape him if only for a few seconds. But their bodies were too entangled. His legs laid between hers. His fingers tangled in her hair. She couldn't block him out. Let alone ignore the increasing pain between her legs.

"You were amazing, baby. If every time could be like that…" his voice trailed off as he ran a finger across her face.

"Get off of me," Olivia gritted out, desperate for a pretense she existed for something other than Lewis and his twisted desires.

"What's the matter, Olivia? You didn't enjoy yourself?" Lewis shifted and looked between them, seeing a swirl of blood pooling between her legs. "Guess not," he commented.

Olivia winced at his movement, the pain turning into a stabbing ache.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure you have some fun next time." He winked.

She sneered at the look on his face and spit in his face. "Go to hell."

A startled Lewis reached up to wipe off his forehead. "No need to be so hostile about it, darling."

Her nostrils flared in anger, both of them glaring daggers at the other. The tension grew until it felt like the room would explode at any second.

Finally, a rumbling from Olivia's stomach cracked the moment.

Lewis glanced down and frowned. "Guess Junior's hungry."

Olivia made no comment. Her stomach may have growled, but the hurt living in her body made food unthinkable.

"Get up. The apples will be turning brown." Lewis rolled to his feet and pulled up his pants. He then grabbed his black t-shirt and pulled it over his head, glancing back at the futon. Olivia laid where he had left her. No effort to move, to stand, or even to roll over. Her chest was the only part of her body that was moving. And even that moved just enough to prove she was still alive. To prove she was still fighting. The thought made him sneer. "Let's go," he insisted firmly.

Olivia closed her eyes at the command. She didn't want to go. She didn't want to move. But as she peeled her eyes open and caught the expression on Lewis' face, motivation began to swirl inside her. Olivia pushed herself off the futon and felt his hand close around her arm. The room tilted as she stood, Lewis' grip the only thing keeping her upright.

He hissed at the strain on his back and almost regretted the last thirty minutes. His back had stung before, but a harsh burning now twisted his muscles. He would be moving slow for a day or two. He glanced down at his shaking victim, taking in the turmoil on her face and the tears in her eyes. And as she struggled to try to keep herself composed, he grinned. He could handle the back pain.

Olivia stayed still as Lewis pulled her pants back up, feeling the numbness settle in. If only it would stay. She felt her body move towards the kitchen, her mind a blank slate. How could one man be so full of hate? And still so full of nothing? It almost seemed like yesterday had been a dream. How could Lewis be both a monster and that haunted little boy? She didn't know. And she was really too tired to care.

Lewis slammed her into a kitchen chair, causing a wave of agony between her legs. Olivia clenched her teeth and swallowed the cry of pain. She didn't need Lewis to know how bad she hurt.

"Couldn't find the granola, so I guess it's just apples and peanut butter." Lewis dropped the plate of apples in front of her and opened up the jar of peanut butter. "Eat up."

Olivia eyed the peanut butter with disdain and reached for the apple slices. She'd rather eat them plain than have to battle the sticky substance. She had tasted more than her fair share of it lately.

Lewis plopped down across the table, frowning at the plain apple slice in her hand. "You need to put peanut butter on it. The baby needs protein."

She rolled her eyes and bit into the apple. "The baby's fine," she said around her food, fighting the urge to throw the jar of peanut butter at his head. If Lewis kept up this doting father charade, she was going to shove his head through that damn window he fixed.

Lewis observed the fight in her eyes with a measure of surprise. Raping Olivia usually subdued her fight, wiped out all her energy. This continued snarl was something new. "It doesn't work out well when you fight me, sweetheart."

Olivia raised an eyebrow as she bit off another piece, her defiance written all over her face.

The unspoken challenge grated his ears. His fingers clenched into a fist, memories of her screams ringing in his ears. "That baby won't stop me from hurting you," he warned.

"But peanut butter will?" Olivia scoffed.

Anger flashed in Lewis' eyes at her tone, and Olivia's heart skipped a beat. Maybe she should try to eat the peanut butter. It was useless to fight him on something so small. And after all, she was malnourished. She could feel it. And if she needed nutrients, the baby probably did too.

Olivia reached for another apple slice and froze. Her eyes darted from Lewis' hardened eyes to the peanut butter. Of course. Why had she not thought of it before? Her mind started spinning in circles, and Olivia struggled to make sense of it. Lewis would never let her leave, that much was clear. And she certainly did not have the stamina for an escape. So the only option was to get her squad here. That was the only way out. And if she couldn't lead them here directly, she would have to do so indirectly. Using the only other person who knew where she was.

She looked back at Lewis, forcing down the hope soaring within her. "Peanut butter won't help that much, you know."

Lewis eyed her cautiously as she dipped an apple slice in the peanut butter.

"Babies need more than protein to grow. Especially in the second trimester when their bones are developing," Olivia said nonchalantly. "Babies need calcium and iron. Vitamin D. Even potassium. Things you won't find in pop-tarts."

Lewis grabbed a few apple slices and tilted his head. "So what? You want me to go get you some milk and spinach now? Is that it?"

Olivia shrugged and finished off her apple slice. "I don't care what you do. From what you've said, you'll have the kid long after I'm gone. If you want him to break a bone every time he falls, that's on you, Lewis."

Various emotions played on Lewis' face. "We don't have a way to keep that stuff cold."

Olivia glanced to the broken refrigerator behind him. "You could pick up a cooler, some ice. It would keep it cold for a little while. And it's already getting cooler outside. We can set food on the porch. Should keep it cool for a few days" She bit her lip as Lewis contemplated her suggestion. "It doesn't have to be all the time. If you pick up milk and vegetables, I could eat those first. Before it goes bad and while it's still cold. Then we can go back to eating the pop tarts and granola."

Lewis narrowed his eyes. "Why do you care all the sudden?"

Panic surged inside her. He couldn't know what she was thinking. It would never work if he knew. "Maybe I don't hate this baby as much as you think I do," she offered softly. Her hand reached for another apple slice, obediently scooping a little peanut butter on it.

Lewis studied her for a quiet moment and narrowed his eyes. "We'll see."

Olivia quickly popped the apple in her mouth before the relief could show on her face. Two words, two small words. But if she could talk him into getting more food, she had a chance. If Lewis went into town more often, someone might notice him. Recognize him. Call the police. It was a longshot, but at least it was something.

Who knew that two small words could mean so much.