Times Square Action

Tom Conroy was guilty. He had brutally murdered four dozen young women, after raping and beating them to a pulp. His name made Olivia's blood boil, made Elliot's jaw muscles twitch, the way they did when he was about to explode in a flurry of anger. The case had been the longest Elliot and Olivia had worked together, two and a half years. And this case was coming to a close now, here, in the middle of Times Square.

Elliot circled around Tom from the left, Olivia from the right. Fin, dressed up as a policeman, was dead ahead of him. Munch, hidden in a dark SUV was just behind them, ready to run anyone over as long as they got Tom. They had to be careful because a) this was their one, their only chance to catch the bastard b) it was Times Square and if they pulled guns, everyone would freak, and they'd lose him.

They were about three feet away and closing in…two feet…one foot…

"Ooof!" Elliot slammed into the ground as a heavy set man rammed into him. His badge unclipped from his belt and slid a few inches. It rested as it hit the shiny, black, leather shoe of a still man. Elliot, still on the ground, allowed his eyes to travel upward. The shined shoe, half covered with slightly baggy blue jeans belonged to a slender man with an oval face, piercing blue eyes, and bleach blond hair which lay in curls on the top of his head.

"Oh shit," Olivia hissed under her breath. She edged forward, hoping Tom would stay still for a few more precarious seconds. But luck wasn't on the police's side.

"Nice try, detectives," laughed Tom in a voice hinting a French accent, "And with that, I bid you farewell." He leaned down, grabbed Elliot's badge, pocketed it and took off all in one fell swoop.

Elliot watched helplessly as their one chance slipped out of their fingers. He was still trying to dodge the many trampling feet around him. His heart drooped and sank into his stomach. Tears of anger and disappointment filled his eyes, dangerously close to overflowing. He brushed them away carefully and wiped his wet fingers on his pant leg.

Olivia groaned in despair as Tom Conroy, the murderous jerk, took off, too fast for them to catch up with him. Her eyes grew wild with determination and adrenaline pumped through each of her veins. Her whole body tingled with the excitement of a good chase. Thinking carefully, she moved her holster, with the gun still securely lodged in it, to the front of her belt so she could reach is easier and motioned to Elliot that he should do the same. And so he did. She also pinned her badge to the front of her shirt, so that people would see it and move outta her way. Unfortunately for Elliot, he couldn't do the same, so she told him to just stick close to her side.

"Munch! Munch, can you hear me?" Olivia cried into a walky – talky.

"Yeah, here, here," replied Munch, his words fuzzy with static.

"He's gotten away…with El's badge," Olivia shrieked.

"I can't do anything; there are too many people," informed Munch. Fuming at the thought that the son of a bitch just might get away, Liv took off running. As she passed him, Liv reached a hand down and gruffly pulled El to his feet.

"Let's get this jerk," she growled, her eyes fixed on the back of Tom's shirt, which, all of a sudden, took a sharp left. For over twenty minutes El and Liv chased Tom down street after street. Finally, they ended up in a dumping ground. It was full of old appliances, beds, other household items and larger things like cars and broken bikes. Piles of crap littered the place.

They stopped and looked around. There was no trace of anyone but the detectives were one hundred percent positive that they had chased the murderer into the yard. Automatically they split, Liv went right, and El went left, just like they'd always done for so many years.

It was not a small yard. No, it wasn't really a yard, more like a field. A field the size of twelve football fields. The golden sunlight was fading quickly as they ended their search. Just as they came to the very last segment of dump land, the sun slipped beneath the horizon and everything went quiet.

Elliot disappeared around a large wooden table; leaving Liv to search through a gnarly mess of twisted metal and pointed bits of glass and other such dangerous materials that one could seriously injure them with if not very cautious. As she got closer she saw old knives, rusty nails and broken flower vases in the pile of sh** she was about to rummage through.

She approached wearily, not bothering to take the extra time and energy to draw her weapon. "Hey, El, you finding anything?" She called loudly.

"Nah, just a bunch of crap people have thrown out," he reported lazily as he kicked over a big plank of wood. It landed with a deafening crack, and snapped in half.

"I don't think anyone's he –," Liv was cut short. A strange strangling noise emitted from her. It was a noise like Elliot had never heard before.

"Liv? Liv, are you okay?" Elliot asked, his voice rising with terror. He knew he couldn't live through losing another woman in his life. Kathy was long gone, physically, but mentally and emotionally, she still haunted Elliot's mind every night. She had left the house while he was at work one day. So when he came home from work late that night, she wasn't there. The house had been cleaned out, sterilized, and the kids were gone. There was no note. She'd robbed him of his rights.

A scream cut through the air. Elliot could hear a major struggle going on. He could only pray that Liv would pull through and defeat the guy. Elliot wanted to go and save her with all his heart, but he didn't want to interfere. He knew Liv would bite his head off if he treated her like a child. He had learned that from personal experience, the first day they'd worked together.

A shadowy figure darted from the pile of metal and debris. Elliot took a couple shots at who was almost definitely Tom Conroy. He could see he'd grazed his right leg and hit his left shoulder blade. But Tom didn't stop running. 'That coward," thought Elliot.

Elliot's face crumpled as he saw Liv for the first time. She was sprawled out on the ground in a starfish position. It looked like maybe a couple bones were broken. Her pale face was red. Tomorrow, he guessed, her face would be black and blue and purple. Her clothes were tattered. She had scratches all over body. Wherever there was bare skin, there was also blood and dirt.

"El?" She croaked dryly, "Are you there?"

"I'm here, Liv," he whispered. He dropped to his knees and scooched over a couple more feet so he was right beside her. "Oh my God," he exclaimed as he saw what he had not noticed before in the dark. An old, red, rusty knife had been plunged so deeply through her chest, only the hilt stuck out.

"El…I…I…love…you." Liv's words came out in a low puff. Her soft, baby – blue cashmere sweater was turning redder and redder from blood with each fading pump of her heart. Hot tears spilled over El's eyes as his partner's breathing slowed…slower….slower…stopped. Her heaving chest came to a rest and her beautiful hazel – green eyes, now fixed with a glassy layer, stared unseeingly up at the dark sky that was filling with storm clouds.

"No, Liv, stay with me! Stay with me, baby, c'mon," El grumbled as he started a vigorous round of CPR. His strong fists pounded into her chest. His lips touched hers and forced air into her lungs. There was no response. He grabbed her radio from her belt and said, "Captain? Captain, are you there?!"

"Here. Elliot is that you? Is everything okay? Where's Liv?" A flow of questions came from the radio.

"Tom, the bastard got away…and…and Liv's…Liv's….dead, I think," El whispered hoarsely to Cragen.

"Oh, God…where is you now?" Cragen said. In the background Elliot could hear Munch and Fin. They had returned to the precinct shortly after the big chase began. Elliot gave him the address and everything, and then turned his attention back to Liv.

It seemed like an eternity, waiting for the ambulance, the police cruisers, the firefighters to arrive. Elliot kept performing CPR for about ten minutes and energy was weakening fast. To his dismay, he could see no lights in the distance. He could hear no sirens calling in the night. Liv was becoming paler and paler as the time went on and El was losing hope even faster.

Finally, blue and red lights stabbed through the night's darkness. Excruciatingly loud sirens wailed through the stillness, cutting the peaceful silence. The first ones on the scene were not police officers, not firefighters or the paramedics, but El and Liv's co-workers, Munch, Fin and Cragen. They all bent over her corpse and mourned for a few seconds until paramedics came over.

"How long has her heart been stopped?" Demanded one paramedic, a woman. She didn't ask anyone in particular, for she didn't know who had been there when Liv had been stabbed.

"Uh, about ten to fifteen minutes," Elliot responded immediately, sadly.

"I'm afraid it's too late to restart it. She's probably brain dead by now. I'm sorry," the other paramedic, a male, informed them gravely.

"No," the three detectives and their captain all protested at the same time.

"She's a fighter. Olivia Benson would not want us to give up on her! She's still there," Elliot shouted at the paramedics forcefully as he gestured to Liv's body, "It's up to us to save her. She's waiting for us. Just try, please, just try it."

"Clear," shouted the female paramedic as the male shocked Liv's heart. Her co-workers looked on in horror as they shocked her heart over and over again. Before the next shock, they would check to see if she had a pulse. After the sixth shock, before the seventh, when they checked for a pulse, they found something. Everyone emitted a sigh of relief.

"She's not out of the woods yet," Elliot and everyone was informed, "We still have to get her to the hospital. There are still a million risks she has to face."

"I'll ride with her," offered Elliot immediately.

"No, El, you'll go home and rest," instructed Cragen. Before Elliot could complain further, the ambulance in which Liv was in took off, leaving him in a cloud of smelly exhaust.

Two days passed without a word of Liv's condition. Cragen wasn't allowing Elliot back in the Squad Room until he was convinced he'd had enough rest and was mentally healthy to come back to work. To ensure Elliot would follow these rules, Cragen made either Munch or Fin stay with him at all times, to make sure he didn't sneak out to see Liv. Most of the time he was on "house arrest", he just sat in bed watching movies, reading books, talking to whoever was there, surfing the internet or leafing through his memories of him and Liv.

He remembered years ago, when he'd saved Kathy and Eli. He was not there; he was working, as he usually was. Kathy had a doctor's appointment and El chose work over family, as he'd made this mistake so many times before. Liv warmly agreed to pick Kathy up and take her. They were on their way when a truck had hit them, knocking Liv out for a moment, and sending Kathy into early labor.

On the third day of his home – isolation, El finally fell asleep, for the first time since the big chase. He wasn't quite sure how long he was asleep.

He was at the precinct again. Everyone was there, crowded in Cragen's spacious office. The phone rang and Cragen picked up. "Hello?" And then he turned towards Elliot and grimly handed him the phone.

"Hello, this is Elliot," he said into the phone uncertainly. There was some fast talk on the other end of the line. After a few seconds of blabber, Elliot tossed the phone in the air and took off. He ran out the doors of the squad room and into Kim Greyleck. She looked her normal, uptight second. Not waiting to apologize to her (not that he would have if he wasn't in a hurry), he kept sprinting down the hall. At the same time he was wondering what she might look like with her hair down. Would it soften her stony, grey look or would it just make her look even more unnatural.

"What's the big hurry?" She demanded.

"Liv!" El called over his shoulder. He didn't stop his full blown pace until he reached his car in the parking lot. He clambered inside, and took off as fast as possible. It took him a total of fifteen minutes to reach the hospital. The ride should have taken over a half an hour. He raced inside and said to the lady at the front desk, "I'm here to see an Olivia Benson." The lady, who was wearing lavender scrubs, didn't put down the magazine she was reading to answer him. All she said was, "Wait in the waiting room until you're called. Impatient and not in the mood to deal with some crabby bitch's crap, he stuck his hand into his pocket and groped around for his badge. There was a moment of panic when he couldn't find it. Then he remembered. That bastard, Tom Conroy, had it.

"Okay, look, I'm a police officer. I am detective Elliot Stabler, and that lady is detective Olivia Benson. We work for the NYPD. Now I am in no mood whatsoever to deal with you. Please, let me through." He spoke curtly, in short sentences.

"Don't you guys talk to each other? Her partner is already in there with her!" Exclaimed the nurse. She allowed him to pass through when he drew his gun. He dashed into her room, gun poised out in front of him. He knew exactly who was in there with Liv. He knew it was Tom Conroy. He went inside the room. Liv's heart monitor showed a flat line. Tom stepped from the side and pointed a gun directly at Elliot's head. His finger flexed and a gunshot rang through the air.

Elliot's eyes snapped open. Everything around him was different then what he remembered when he fell asleep. "Where am I?" He mumbled to no one.

"In the hospital," a nurse named Jill said. She bustled around rather noisily in her red scrubs.

"What happened?" He groaned.

"You had a heart attack. Now go back to sleep," Jill instructed gently.

"What about my partner, Olivia?" He asked frantically.

"She's fine. She'll be released tomorrow afternoon. And if you're good and rest, I think you can go then, too," Jill said as she swept out of the room. Comforted with the news that his partner would be alright, Elliot felt more at ease. But this whole thing had given him even more determination to catch Tom Conroy. He knew nothing would get between his revenge.