Disclaimer: No. Not mine. Am I on a writer's strike?
Author's note: This is going to be extremely less controversial. Can I prefix this by saying that all the reviews I got last chapter (whether in reference to what I said or the story) were amazingly passionate, and I'm sorry it had to be passion over an author's note rather than the author's writing. Let's put it into what we think of the story this time ok? It's so fabulous that I have such impassioned readers, so very awesome. But I also have to say that I want you to go out and review other people's stories. Not just mine. Please. There are so many great authors out there who are under-appreciated. NO, NOT ME! Lol.
Thank you for all the reviews all the same, and can I say that I would never not post a chapter. I fulfil my responsibilities as a writer (despite what I may say), so I just want you guys to extend the same courtesy as readers. If you read it, please review it. Two seconds people, that's all it takes. I know it for a fact, cause I review all the time.
Story recommendations:
Scarletina by JenniDinoRobot
Let Me Let Go by MaryWhite
Undercover Days by Jaed621
Burning Room by AllieM
Two more chapters after this my darlings, so hang in there. And I hope you're not too angry by the ending of this chapter! Forgive me?
To Ash for your amazing reviews; you never fail to make me smile.
To Scar for simply being amazing.
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"Tastes are made, not born"
– Mark Twain.
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Friday, October 15th
When he and Kathy first married, he would always look forward to waking up next to her in the morning. To seeing her eyes adjust to the light that was coming through their bay window, the warmth of her body at his side and the way they would stay under the covers as long as possible before they'd have to inevitably get up to face the world.
Even if they were on opposite sides of the bed after a disagreement, he would wake to find that their bodies had somehow gravitated towards the other during the night. They would laugh about it in the morning as Kathy made him his breakfast, the wonderful aroma of bacon and eggs making his stomach growl appreciatively.
Somewhere along the line, things had changed.
He found himself lying awake during the night and rising earlier than usual. He found more comfort in the solitariness of the kitchen where he would make himself something to eat to settle the uneasiness in his stomach, rather than watching his wife working away at the stove. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten anything Kathy had made for him.
Before the separation, when he got home from cases that went into the early hours of the morning, Kathy would leave a plate of food for him in the oven that he would eat before heading to bed for a few hours of badly needed sleep. Now, when he entered the darkened foyer of their house, the silence enveloping him, he could barely smell the dinner that had been consumed only hours before.
Since the separation, he'd forgotten the taste of Kathy's famous meatloaf that she proudly declared a family tradition.
He'd forgotten the taste of a late night beer with her after particularly hard cases, as she sipped at a glass of wine thoughtfully.
He'd forgotten the taste of her lips against his, as their passion for each other overtook all else.
But as he forgot these, he found that his palate now desired a decidedly more forbidden flavour.
He now stayed at the precinct later, to eat take-out with his partner as they soaked in the companionable silence.
He found his beer ran down his throat so much smoother when he was sharing it with Olivia, as they laughed over one of Munch's conspiracy theories or Fin's quips.
He found that instead of missing the affections of his wife, his tastebuds craved a new flavour.
Olivia.
"Elliot?"
He shook his head of the mental images of his partner, as Kathy waddled her way into the kitchen. He shifted in his seat guiltily, almost like she'd be able to see and hear what he was thinking.
To hide his nervousness, he picked up a tomato slice on the edge of his plate, chewing it without thinking, "what are you doing up?"
Kathy rested her hands on the granite counter, "I could ask you the same thing"
Elliot laid his forearms in front of him, leaning forward, "I couldn't sleep"
Kathy nodded, moving to the fridge to look through its contents, "you want anything?"
"No, I've eaten," he replied, watching the back of his wife as she began to pull out some leftovers, the containers filling the space between he and Kathy.
Space that had been there for longer than they were both willing to admit.
Space that was full of unfinished discussions, misunderstandings and too many late nights away from each other.
She gave him space that she thought he needed when the job was too much. He had done the same when she thought it was what they needed during the separation.
In the end, they had stopped communicating and the space had become too much to recoup.
His mother would shake her head and claim they were too young, her mother would say that they rushed into it. But both he and Kathy knew that deep down, they had simply grown apart.
Elliot looked up as Kathy prepared herself a midnight snack, her hands expertly wrapping and un-wrapping various condiments. Normally, he would find comfort in the familiarity of her actions. But, as his heart caught in his chest, he realised that this was no longer familiar to him, and in effect, it wasn't a comfort.
His stomach was tying his insides into knots that boy-scouts would be proud of, and he was very close to losing the minimal amount of sustenance he had finally been able to consume.
Before his brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing, Kathy had fixed him with a gaze that indicated she had something important she had to tell him, and that arguing was not an option.
"What is it?"
"I know that this is probably the last thing you want to talk about with this whole situation involving Olivia…"
"This has nothing to do with Olivia."
He didn't know why he was so defensive, or why he felt the need to stop talking about Olivia like she was there with them, but he could tell from the look in Kathy's eyes that he'd taken her by surprise with his tone.
"You can't sit there and tell me that this doesn't involve her at least a little bit, Elliot. At least give me credit and don't treat me like I'm an idiot."
He could see her eyes searching his, trying to find an answer to a question he didn't have. That he hadn't had for a very long time.
"Ok," he conceded, his stomach rumbling lightly, "what do you want to talk about?"
She didn't answer him at first, choosing instead to take a bite out of her sandwich. The low rumbling in his stomach began to cripple his mid-section.
"What are we doing here Elliot?" as she swiped at the side of her mouth where some mustard had taken up residence; he could see her hands were shaking slightly.
"We're eating."
Humour was his way of deflecting personal issues, and Kathy knew it. But something about the way that her hands were shaking was throwing him off. In the past, when they had their disagreements, she would be steady and assured in what she was telling him.
"I'm serious El."
He sighed, pushing his plate away from him, "I know. I'm sorry"
"We sleep in the same bed, we share the same house. But I feel like I don't know you anymore"
He used his fingers to press into his eyelids, hoping to relieve some of the tension behind his eyes, "I work long hours, I need to make money for us"
He looked up to see Kathy shaking her head, "maybe that used to be a viable excuse, but I don't believe it anymore. A decade ago, you'd come home from days just as long as the ones you have now, but you would always have time for me. Now, even when you're home, you're not. It's not fair to me Elliot"
His stomach had begun to churn furiously at her honesty, "I know Kathy. You know you guys mean the world to me right?"
Kathy reached across to lay her hand on his forearm, "You've always loved us Elliot, I've never doubted that. But I don't know if you're still in love with me. And, I have to admit, I don't know if I'm in love with you anymore," she paused, pushing her hair behind her ears with a shaking hand, "at first, I thought that we could make it work if it seemed like we were starting over again. But I don't know anymore"
Elliot could tell that she had thought this through; that she probably stayed awake during the night like him, thinking about all the things that needed to be resolved. He couldn't help but wonder that if they had turned to each other like their bodies had done automatically in the beginning; would they be having this discussion.
"The kids know more about what's happening than we do. I was doing the laundry a few months back and Lizzie told me that she thought you seemed happier when you were in your own apartment," she swiped at a tear with the back of her hand, "do you know what that does to me?"
Elliot shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the onset of his own tears, "I'm sorry Kathy, I…"
"I met somebody"
She cut him off abruptly, and his eyes whipped up to hers so quickly, they almost completed a revolution in his skull. Honestly, he shouldn't be surprised; but he wasn't sure that in his state that he could take it at the moment.
He could taste the bile in the back of his throat, "you start by saying that this is because of Olivia and then this…this…I don't even know how to take this Kathy"
She shook her head, "For the past five years I've been married to an ideal, Elliot. Of who we used to be, of who I hoped we could become again."
"I never stopped loving you," his voice caught in his throat as a sob threatened to break from his chest.
"I know. I told you, I've never questioned that. But I know, and the kids know, that whether you acted on it or not, there's always been somebody else for you too. And I can't pretend to ignore it anymore"
He wanted to shake his head and plead with her. Tell her that she was wrong and that he loved her, because she was his wife. Tell her that he only loved Olivia as a friend, as a colleague.
As a partner.
But he'd be lying.
If Kathy and his kids could see it before he was willing to admit it, then all he'd be doing would be lying to himself and Olivia.
"You have no idea how hard it is for me to tell you to let Olivia know that you love her, Elliot. I'm your wife for God's sake," she let out a puff of air as she laughed through her tears, "Jesus, we're like some bad Jerry Springer episode here."
He laughed despite himself. The overall situation wasn't completely lost on him either. His wife was telling him to tell his partner how he truly felt, after telling him that she'd met somebody she could potentially love as well.
This was so screwed up.
They sat in silence for a beat, before he asked the only question he didn't really want the answer to, "who did you meet?"
Kathy shrugged, a tear escaping and falling down her cheek, "His name's Henry. His son goes to the twin's school. He's a single dad. The kids love him, he loves the kids, and he has time for me Elliot"
Elliot nodded, a buzzing sound in his head making him dizzy, "how long?"
"Eleven months," he felt more than saw Kathy move around the counter to stand in front of him, "I'm sorry Elliot. But I could only wait so long for you."
Her hands moved to the side of his head, lifting it to look at her in the eyes.
Eyes that used to hold all the innocence of youth. Of first-time parenthood. Of fidelity and trust.
Eyes that now held his past.
Kathy rested her forehead against his own, tears running furiously down her cheeks, "the baby may not be yours Elliot, and you have no idea how much guilt I have in me at the moment, how sorry I am to have put you through all this."
Elliot moved his hands to rest on Kathy's, trying to transfer some comfort through his touch. He was as guilty as she was; only moments before he had been thinking of his partner in rather indecent sorts of ways.
"I'm sorry too Kathy, I'm as much to blame for this," his voice kept hitching in his throat, and if Kathy wasn't supporting his head, he would have keeled over at her initial confession.
Their silent sobs filled a kitchen full of so many past memories and promises.
Promises of a happy family and a bright future that he had dreamt of all those years back.
But here, in the surrounding darkness, they were finally letting each other go.
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Despite their heavy early morning revelations, Elliot felt a part of him was now lighter; like a load had been lifted from his subconscious. He was now free to put his undivided attention into meeting with Ashton at the warehouse that morning.
Numerous scenarios had run through his mind, most of which ended with the bloody corpse of Robert Ashton sitting at his feet.
He listened half-heartedly to what Porter was telling the group converged at the precinct; a mixture of Feds and fellow cops. Munch sat to his left, picking at a jam-filled donut that Cragen had brought in the hopes that his officers would eat something.
His stomach was still trying to digest the tomato slices he had eaten that morning; along with the words that he and Kathy had exchanged. They had figured out in ten minutes, something that had been surrounding them unresolved for over four years. It still hurt that Kathy had moved on so quickly, but the fact that he, as a Detective, hadn't even suspected an affair made him feel even more hollow.
And guilty.
He felt guilt that he hadn't paid enough attention to his own wife, and that he let it get to the stage where she had to seek affection from somebody else.
And guilt that his wife was more willing to admit he was in love with another woman than he was.
Love. With Olivia. Shit.
"Ok, we're going to wire you Elliot, and there'll be undercover cops surrounding the building," he found his attention drawn back to the conversation, where Cragen had now taken charge.
After Ashton's last call, they had contacted the nearest precinct for information on the warehouse that he had described. It did, in fact, exist, but it was in a particularly isolated part of the city.
He expected nothing less.
As he watched Cragen addressing a group of Federal Agents in front of the incident board, he noticed in his peripheral vision that Porter was making his way towards him. He felt the muscle in his jaw work as he tried his best to not clock him as soon as he got to him.
"Detective Stabler? Can I have a word?"
There were a number of things he had to say in response, but Porter had on that damn cologne again and he felt his eyes begin to water from its intensity. He gave a sideways glance to Munch sitting to his left, who in turn nodded his head almost imperceptibly.
He rose from his perch on his desk and followed Porter down the busy corridor to an empty interrogation room. It wasn't the same interrogation room where they had interviewed Ashton, but it was the one where he and Olivia had hidden from Cragen after they had stolen and hidden his jar of liquorice a few months back.
How long do you think we're going to have to stay in here?
Until Cragen retires probably
I could just push you out the door and let you face the wrath alone
You wouldn't do that to me Liv
What makes you so certain?
Cause you love me
Her laughter had been so wonderfully liberating that he wanted to bottle it up so he could use it whenever he was feeling down. She'd had a piece of the red liquorice hanging out of her mouth as her laughter filled the room, and despite the fact he hated the stuff, he found himself indulging in a couple of pieces.
The musky taste never failed to make his stomach turn in the past, but this time, as he and Olivia stifled their laughter so they could hear their Captain on one of his famous tirades, he felt he had never tasted anything sweeter.
Cragen had found them not long after, and issued his usual ass-chewing. But it had been worth it, because for the first time in a long time, they had been in something together.
Now, he was alone with Agent Perfect who was fixing him with a confused gaze as he smiled at the memory Porter obviously couldn't see. And he was grateful for that; he wanted to keep this piece of Olivia to himself.
He was a greedy bastard after all.
He watched carefully as Porter moved around him, settling himself against the table in the centre of the room, "How are you feeling?"
Elliot shrugged, folding his arms defensively, "I'm as fine as I'll be."
Porter nodded, his expression indicating he couldn't care less if Elliot was feeling suicidal or homicidal.
"What's this about Porter?"
Porter's Adam's apple bounced up and down as he swallowed, "Olivia"
Elliot frowned, his defences continuing to rise, "what about Detective Benson?"
Porter shook his head smirking, "fine, if Detective Benson makes you feel more comfortable, I'll call her that. But it doesn't change how you feel about each other and how that may affect the situation this morning."
First his ex-wife and now Olivia's ex-boss. Who didn't know about their situation?
"What are you talking about Porter?"
He could tell from the look in Porter's eyes that he wasn't going to believe the bullshit Elliot was giving him.
"I was talking to your Captain yesterday Detective, about a situation two years ago that may jeopardise this case…"
"You can't take me off this case now, Porter," he cut Porter off abruptly, and took a small amount of joy out of how intimidated he seemed in his presence.
Dean shook his head, "Will you listen to me Elliot? Can you please let me explain before you jump down my throat? I'm not the bad guy here," he paused waiting for Elliot to deflate.
Elliot kept his arms folded, but he relaxed his stance somewhat, "what is it?"
Porter's eyes searched Elliot's, visibly wondering whether to tell him directly or to do it softly.
"I understand that two years ago there was a situation with Victor Gitano."
So, directly it was.
Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't that. And within the space of seconds, his mind filled with images of Olivia lying on the floor of the bus terminal with a cut to her throat, blood staining her fingers. Then it flashed to the dingy warehouse, gun to his head as Olivia told him that she was sorry she couldn't put the job before them.
And then he saw Olivia and himself in that hospital corridor, the after-affects of the Gitano case forcing them to evaluate their partnership.
If that sniper hadn't beaten you to it; I know you would have taken that shot, Olivia.
No, I wouldn't have. Did you really expect me to? Did you really expect me to cause your death? What about your kids?
I don't know. I just couldn't get that boy out of my head.
What about me?
Look, we both chose each other over the job. We can never let that happen again. Otherwise, we can't be partners.
I can't believe you're saying that.
Look, you and this job are about the only things that I've got anymore. I don't want to wreck that. I couldn't take it.
Now he was facing a similar situation, and both Porter and Cragen were worried about whether or not their feelings would get in the way again.
"I know how to do my job," he tried to keep the venom out of his voice, and was taken aback by how jaded he sounded.
Porter seemed to realise that he had struck one of his nerves, "I never said that Elliot. But you know as well as I do that this job is as much about emotional stability as it is about physical ability. We know you're physically capable, but your Captain and my superiors need to know that you're in the right frame of mind to do this properly."
"Are you questioning my mental stability?"
Porter raised an eyebrow, "I'm not. But your Captain is."
Elliot felt like he'd been kicked in the guts. He knew that not much got past Cragen, but he thought he held him in high enough regard to know he could do his job properly. Cragen obviously knew there was more to his and Olivia's relationship than they had been willing to admit. He couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his splitting of him and Olivia between Fin and Lake than just their disagreements.
Maybe, he knew all along that there was more between them and he was separating them so they'd get used to it for the future.
"We know the situation is slightly different, Detective Benson is the only victim at this point," he paused, standing up to pace the room, "but when you get into that warehouse today, you're in as much danger. We need to know you won't do anything completely stupid to get Detective Benson back."
Elliot frowned, "stupid?"
Porter smiled despite himself, "yeah. No self-sacrifice or hero-playing. We need to get Detective Benson and yourself out as safely as possible. And for that, we need you as level headed as possible. Ashton obviously knows that Detective Benson means a lot to you, but we don't think he knows the…err…extent of those feelings. We'd like to keep that to ourselves for now."
Elliot shifted uncomfortably; he couldn't believe he was talking about this with Porter of all people.
"So what am I doing exactly?"
Porter relaxed at Elliot's conciliatory tone, "you'll be wired. You already know that. We'll have some undercover feds ghosting you as homeless people directly outside the warehouse. We've had the bomb-squad and TARU inside the warehouse last night and there aren't any cameras or explosives as far as we know. There's a team outside relaying movement and information back to us."
Elliot nodded, the magnitude of the situation sitting heavily inside of him, "and where will you guys be?"
"We'll be in a van around the corner, a bus not much further back. You won't be alone Elliot."
Elliot nodded again, a leaden feeling beginning to infiltrate his neck and head. They stood together silently, a knock at the door startling the both of them.
Porter smirked at their reactions, "yeah."
Munch's head poked through the door, "that was the unit outside the warehouse."
Elliot's eyes shot up to meet Munch's, "Ashton just arrived with Olivia."
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A car-ride that would normally take all of five minutes seemed as though it was taking five hours. He couldn't find a comfortable way to sit, and continually shifted in his car-seat. Porter was sitting next to him, but was either undisturbed or he had the patience of a saint.
Or he realised that Elliot was using his energy to move around rather than to punch things and was grateful.
Elliot felt as though he was being eaten alive by his nerves, but a good-luck text message he found on his cell from Kathy and the kids had settled them somewhat. He was unbelievably glad that Olivia was still alive, but also a little worried that Ashton was so willing to be alone in a place where there was no escape from the authorities.
He turned to Porter who was watching the passing scenery impassively, "why do you think he's so willing to be in a situation like this?"
Porter turned to him, shrugging his shoulders, "I honestly don't know. But I don't like it. That's why we need you to be as careful as possible, and why we're taking every precaution we can think of."
Elliot nodded, turning back to his own window.
"You know she really loves you."
He froze, "what?"
Porter nodded, "she never told me directly, but you could tell that there was something there. And then I came to New York, and the past couple of months have just made it so much more obvious."
Elliot shook his head weakly, "I don't…I…"
Porter turned to look out the window, "its ok, you know. You don't have to lie to me, or to your Captain. I think he's a little smarter than you give him credit for," he smiled, scratching his nose, "It happens sometimes. Just take care of her ok? She's a good cop."
Elliot couldn't think of anything smart or blasé to say, so he just continued to move his head in an up and down motion in what he hoped appeared as a nod.
"I know she is," he found himself saying it more to himself than to anybody else.
The car pulled to a stop two blocks from the warehouse. He could see it in the distance. The Kevlar vest he had on began to suffocate him and he felt like tearing it off and jumping out of the car for some fresh air.
He took a deep breath, letting it out between his lips in a long stream of air.
His hand reached to open the door, "Thanks Dean."
Porter smiled, "just get yourself and Detective Benson back safely, then you can thank me."
Elliot shut the door behind him, dipping his head through the open window, "I will. And it's Olivia."
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He had never been particularly claustrophobic before, but entering a potentially dangerous situation was not the sort of thing he had ever done without a partner; and he felt the oppressive atmosphere of the empty warehouse press in on him.
His gun was trained firmly in front of him as he made his way through the wrought-iron door, his eyes trying to take in everything at the same time.
"Olivia!"
His voice came out stronger than he was feeling, but with each step the feeling began to return to his muscles, nerves replaced with a determination to kick Ashton's arse.
So far, the place was clear and Porter's voice in his ear was a reassurance rather than the pain he thought it would be.
"Elliot, Morales says that the heat sensors say there're two bodies, very much alive, in the back left room."
Elliot nodded to himself, his footsteps quicker, more assured.
The room Porter was talking about came into focus and his heart-beat accelerated. The door was closed and he tried to decide the best way to get into the room without getting his head blown off straight away.
"Can you tell if he's armed?"
Silence.
Then, "yeah, he's armed. Be careful."
He moved to the side of the door, his hand on the knob. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't locked. He took a deep breath, steadying his rhythm.
He threw the door open, keeping his back straight against the wall, gun to his side.
"Ashton, it's me. Alone."
"Elliot?"
Olivia. God, she sounded so weak.
"Yeah, Liv, it's me."
He tried not to dwell on the sound of Olivia's voice too much, but he let it wash over him like an elixir. He tried to see into the room, but the most the angle would allow was the view of a dirty couch and a grimy window.
"Detective Stabler. I'm not going to shoot you," he heard Ashton's disgusting laugh, "yet."
"How do I know you won't fire your gun as soon as I move into the doorway?"
He heard Ashton give a dramatic sigh, "Olivia, will you tell your partner that I am not holding my gun up?"
"Screw you."
He laughed. He couldn't help it. He was again reminded of that time in the interrogation room and the sweet taste of the candy they had eaten. He felt a steel resolve as he promised himself mentally that he and Olivia would do that at least once more before either of them died.
And that meant getting rid of Ashton, and getting the hell out of this hovel.
"Liv, is it safe?"
"Ashton, put the gun down, and Elliot will put his gun down ok?"
There was silence again, and he desperately wanted to see inside the room.
"Ok, Detective Stabler, put your weapon in the doorway where I can see it, and I'll put mine down. Deal?"
Elliot sighed, "deal."
"Ok, El. He's put the gun down."
Elliot moved his gun into the doorway in clear sight of the occupants of the room. He straightened, holding his arms above his head.
"Ok Ashton, I'm coming in."
He moved into the doorway slowly, and as much as he wanted to, he kept his eyes trained away from Olivia and on Ashton. His nerves were on edge and he was mentally calculating the amount of time it would take to bend, get his gun and fire. Ashton was in a better position, but if he jumped out the doorway, he could get away unscathed. But that still left Olivia behind and that wasn't an option.
"Detective Stabler. So nice of you to join us."
Ashton was standing with his arms folded, his stance very relaxed. In his peripheral vision he could see Olivia at his right, her arms bound tightly. She seemed fine on the surface, but then again, she was always stubborn when it came to how injured she really was.
"Why did you do it Ashton?"
The sneer Ashton had pulled his lips into was frightening, his teeth baring, "my life was perfect before you and your partner decided to intrude. Now, I have no job, no girlfriend, and no future that doesn't involve life imprisonment at the best. So, what better way to ease the pain then to transfer it somewhat onto those responsible?"
Elliot shook his head, "nobody is responsible for this but yourself Ashton."
Ashton's eyes flashed and for a second, Elliot thought he was going to reach for the gun, "No! You created this mess! So how do you feel Detective Stabler? Huh? Do you feel any pain? Don't lie to be Detective, because my trigger finger is feeling particularly active today."
Elliot dropped his arms to his sides, "what do you want me to say Ashton? That every moment since Wednesday has been like a knife to my gut? Fine. It has. You've made your point. And now what?"
Ashton curled his hands into fists, "that's not good enough Detective. You wouldn't have been so emotional and angry if it didn't hurt more than that. Stop lying."
Elliot's insides began to churn, "why is it important?"
Ashton looked up at the ceiling, rolling his eyes impatiently, "because I said so! Do you want me to shoot Olivia, Detective Stabler? Is that what you want? Cause if it is," he stopped, reaching his hand for his gun.
Elliot dropped, picking up his own. They stood there, guns pointing at the other's bodies as Olivia cowered to the side. He wanted desperately to tell her it was going to be ok, and to get out while she could, but he couldn't find his voice.
Ashton's frown increased, "My mother refuses to talk to me Detective Stabler. My father disowned me and my girlfriend left me. I wanted you to have a little taste of what it's like to have your heart torn out like mine."
"Why Olivia?"
His hands were steady, and his voice matched them. He wanted to know what was going on in this guy's head. Ashton's mouth was now in the shape of a smirk, his perfect teeth gritted together tightly.
"Because I had to get somebody that you loved just as much."
He thought maybe it would be best to go along with Ashton. He also thought it was ironic that this would be the situation he would finally be honest with his feelings. He didn't think he'd ever get over the irony of the situation.
"Well it worked Robert," he watched Ashton's stance loosen slightly, he was visibly taken by surprise, "it felt like my heart had been taken out while it was still beating. You took my other half Ashton, how did you think I would feel?"
He heard a sound from the general vicinity in which Olivia was situated but he had to ignore it, "You wanted to tear my world apart? You wanted to shake me up? Well, mission accomplished. It worked."
Ashton had gotten his grip back on the gun, "good. But it's still not half the pain that I have in me right now. I want you to suffer Detective Stabler."
Elliot shook his head, but his gun held firm, "you take the woman I love away from me and you don't think I've suffered enough? What do you want from me Ashton? You want me to apologise? I'm sorry ok? But there's nothing more I can give you."
There was. But he knew the idea would go against the promise he had made Porter and he risked Olivia never speaking to him again. But if she survived, it was a risk he was willing to take.
"Let her go Ashton, and you can have me."
A chorus of 'no's' echoed in his head, a group from his earpiece and one from Ashton's right.
"Elliot, what the hell do you think..."
He pulled the wire out before Cragen or Porter could berate him any further, all the while his gun pointed squarely at the chest of Robert Ashton. Ashton who was regarding his offer with a smile that served the further increase his unattractiveness. He wished that he could look at Olivia, to see something in her eyes to keep him going. But if he did, he was certain Ashton would take advantage.
"Just you and me, Robert. Man to man. What do you say?"
"Elliot, don't be an idiot. Please, don't do it."
She was pleading with him, her breath hitching with each word as she struggled to get the sentence out. If she kept it up, he wouldn't be able to go through with it.
"Shut up, Liv," he cringed at her sharp intake of breath, but she remained silent, "now. What do you say?"
He cocked his head in question, watching as a bead of sweat worked it's way down Ashton's long nose, falling off as it reached the end. He could practically hear the gears shifting in Ashton's head as he thought through Elliot's proposition.
Finally, "ok."
"No!" Olivia's strangled cry gripped fiercely at his insides, and it took all his strength not to look at her. To look at her and reassure her that it would be ok.
To tell her that he loved her and it would be over soon.
"Gun down Detective Stabler, at the same time, Detective Benson can leave the room and then it's every man for himself," Ashton was enjoying the situation far too much.
But he nodded anyway, "one, two, three."
They both lowered their guns, "Olivia, go."
"No. I'm not leaving you Elliot," usually, he admired her stubborn resistance, but at the moment, it wasn't what he needed right now.
"Olivia, stop arguing with me, and go."
"I'm your partner El, I can't do it," she had risen shakily to her legs, her arms still tightly at her sides.
"I know you can, because you have to ok? You need to get out safely."
"What about you?"
He wanted to growl out of frustration and shake her until she understood what he was trying to do.
"I can't lose you Olivia. You need to go so I know that you'll be ok."
She didn't miss a beat, "what about me?"
Suddenly, he was in that hospital corridor again, telling her that she and the job were all he had left. That if he lost her, he wouldn't be able to take it.
His lapse in concentration didn't go unnoticed by Ashton.
The last thing that registered was the sound of a gunshot and Olivia's screams.
And the coppery taste of blood.