Chapter 7

"Well, Miss Olivia," the doctor announced, entering the room with a couple of x-ray pictures in her hand, "you're one very lucky lady." She held Olivia's x-ray photos up to the light, showing her patient the crack in her fractured hip bone. "I don't know how you did it, but you fell from a 6-story fire escape into a dumpster and came out with only a fractured hip and a few cuts and bruises."

Olivia just smiled and shrugged. "Luck, I guess, and maybe a bit of divine interventio

The doctor laughed and nodded. "Well, that being said, a fractured hip bone is pretty serious. I want you to stay off of that leg as much as you can, which means crutches or maybe a wheelchair if you can manage it. No more walking, running, or falling off of buildings. I consider it a miracle that you even made it here, especially on foot."

"Well, Stan helped with that one," Olivia smiled, nodding her head at the happy homeless man sitting beside her bed. "Without him, I'd still be out on the street."

"Well then I guess it was luck and a guardian angel that got you here," the doctor said, giving a friendly nod to Stan. She began to pack up her photos. "Your friend Cragen called us back a little bit ago, by the way. He says he'll be here within the next 15 minutes. He also says he has yet to hear back about your boyfriend, but he'll let you know the minute he hears something."

"Thank you, Dr. Perez," Olivia breathed, a feeling of relief washing over her. It was almost over. She was almost safe.

"I'll be back in a little while with your prescription," Dr. Perez smiled, closing the door behind her. "Just breathe easy, Olivia. You're almost home."

As she closed the door behind her, Stan stood up nervously.

"Miss Olivia, if it's okay with you, I really have to use the John," he said sheepishly. "I've been trying to hold it in until your friend got here, but I really just can't hold it anymore. I won't be more than 5 minutes, I promise you. I'll be right back."

"Go ahead, Stan," Olivia smiled warmly. "I'll be here when you get back."

Stan smiled gratefully and flew out of the room, determined to return as quickly as he could. While he was gone, Olivia decided that it might be a good idea to investigate what was left of Stefan's backpack. She reached across the bed and pulled it closer, pulling out first his journal and then his wallet. But, thinking about it, Olivia set the journal off to the side, deciding that she wasn't quite ready to read its contents yet. She picked up his wallet instead and opened it, pulling out his driver's license. But, as she examined it, she realized that it wasn't Stefan's license at all. It belonged to a man named Daniel Holmes, who had long, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She rummaged through the wallet some more and found more cards registered to Daniel Holmes, and began to feel a pang of guilt for giving Stan money from a wallet she now realized had been stolen. She pushed that guilt to the back of her head, however; once she found Daniel, she decided, she would reimburse him for the money, and the plan made her feel better. Plus, this Daniel guy seemed like a reasonable guy. Surely once she explained the situation, he would agree that she'd done the right thing.

"Like what you see?"

Olivia's blood turned to ice in her veins.

"How did you get in here?" she whispered, her vocal cords closing up.

"The nice lady at the front desk let me in," Stefan grinned behind her, propping his head up in his hands with his elbows resting on the top of her bed. "Once she told me your room, I waited till you and the old man where dozing off and hid in this closet behind you. Then, all I had to do was wait." He gazed lazily at the wallet in her hands. "Daniel's a nice looking guy, huh? Well, he was, at least. I cut off his pretty face and threw it into the Hudson after robbing his house and banging his wife. Rich guys just seem to have it all, and none of them deserve it." He leaned his face in close to hers until his nose was touching her ear. "I wish you hadn't run from me, Olivia. You could've just stayed put and let me pick you up, and then we could have been on our way quickly and quietly, just like civilized adults. But you just had to run off, and now I'm gonna have to punish you." His lips were almost touching her ear now as he whispered, "And you have no idea what I'm capable of."

Olivia flinched violently at his touch, but couldn't move more than that. Her mind was racing and her heart was beating out of her chest, but she couldn't move. She was frozen with fear, and it made her feel sick to her stomach. She quickly looked to where her emergency button should be, but it was nowhere to be found.

Stefan followed her gaze. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you want this?" he asked smugly, holding up the button. He watched the color drain out of her face. "Yeah, I took the liberty of taking the batteries out for you. I didn't think you'd need 'em since you won't be raising an alarm."

He tossed the button into her lap, but she only stared at it, feeling defeated. Satisfied, Stefan began to collect his things, putting his wallet back into his backpack but pausing at the journal.

"You haven't read anything, have you?" he asked, holding it up for her to see. Olivia only managed a small shake of her head. "Good." He placed the journal into his backpack and zipped it closed. "I wouldn't want you reading any spoilers."

At this point Olivia felt as though she was going to vomit. The morphine had made her sluggish, and as she glanced around the room, trying to find a means of escape, her thoughts only became cloudier than they were before. She felt as though her body and thoughts were fighting through a sea of mud. She desperately searched for anything she could use as a weapon to fight him off, but there was nothing. Plus, even if she could've found a weapon, she would've been hard pressed to break free long enough to get up and grab it. Neither Stefan nor her fractured hip bone would let her get up from that bed, so she was essentially useless. Her body had betrayed her, and she was forced to watch helplessly as he approached her monitors.

"Well, since the doctor says you shouldn't put any weight on your leg, so I guess that means you can't walk out of here with me." He looked over her medical instruments curiously, his gaze resting on the machine pumping morphine into her arm. "I guess that means I'll have to carry you, huh? But I can't trust you to not fight me while I pick you up, so I guess that means you'll have to be sleeping." He pulled a plastic pouch out of his pocket, and Olivia didn't need to read the label to know that it was anesthesia. She felt her lunch rise up into the back of her throat as he removed the morphine pouch from the instrument and replaced it with the pouch of anesthesia. "Don't worry," he smiled, "I dated an anesthesiologist in college who taught me all about this stuff. I'll only give you enough to make sure that you have a nice nap all the way back to my house."

Olivia searched frantically for a way out, and her gaze rested on the needle in her arm. If she could pull it out in time, she thought, maybe she still had chance. But Stefan was quicker. Just as she reached to pull the needle out, he grabbed her wrists and shoved her back against the bed, pinning her wrists against the mattress next to her head. Olivia's nerves finally kicked in and she began to struggle, but it was too late. She felt the warm thickness of the anesthesia flow through her body, conquering her adrenaline and panic in one fell swoop.

"Good night, sweet princess," Stefan cooed, watching her eyelids droop. He roughly pressed his lips against hers and smiled, knowing that the last thing she would feel before falling asleep would be the panic and anxiety of not being able to fight back while Stefan did whatever he wanted to her unconscious body. "I'll see you when you wake."

Just as he began to lift her from the bed, however, Stan returned to the room, and immediately began to raise an alarm.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the old man demanded, rolling up his sleeves. "Get away from her!"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Stefan cried, using one of his most winning smiles. "I'm Olivia's friend! Craven! I'm Craven!"

"That's not his name!" Stan cried. "You're that mug who was chasing her last night! You almost killed her!"

Stefan's fake smile vanished and he put Olivia's limp body back onto the bed. He watched Stan's face shift from anger to concern.

"What did you do to her?" Stan cried, rushing to her side and trying to shake her awake. "Miss Olivia, wake up! That bloke is back! Olivia, wake up!" Getting no response, he turned back to Stefan, all of his anger renewed. "What the hell did you do?!"

"That's none of your concern," Stefan spat. Without warning, he grabbed the old man and threw him against the wall. He heard the satisfying sound of Stan's head cracking against the wall, and watched the old man's body fall limply to the floor. He stopped himself from smirking; cockiness would get him killed, just like Lewis. He had to be quick. He had to move. There was no time for him to revel in his victory yet. Craven or whatever his name was would be there soon, and any time he spent patting himself on the back would mean that he was that much closer to being caught.

He quickly returned to the bed and removed Olivia's bed robe, preparing to put her outside clothes back on. His fingers worked quickly to redress her, but he did give himself small moments where his fingers lingered slightly longer on her breast when putting on her bra or resting lightly between her thighs when putting her pants back on. But that was all he gave himself; only small moments. One thing that Lewis had never had was self-restraint, and Stefan knew better than to let himself get carried away too early. Plus, if he did too much too early, especially while she was unconscious and couldn't feel it, then it would take the fun out of their activities later. Stefan silently congratulated himself on his foresight as he propped a fully-dressed Olivia into a wheel-chair and began to wheel her down the hallway. What a clever convict he was, much smarter than Lewis. Lewis could never have gotten away with this scheme, let alone as quickly or efficiently as Stefan had. Stefan was by far the superior mind, and he reminded himself of it as he pulled out of the parking lot in his black sedan just as three police cruisers entered. He took a moment to watch a bald, older man, and petite blonde, and a strong-looking Latino detective with dark hair burst from their cruisers and rush into the hospital. Stefan smiled to himself. They were all too late.

What a smart criminal he was, he thought to himself as he drove away. So smart. So clever. So much better than Lewis.