AN: also tweaked a tad!

:Part two:

'Are we done yet? I just want to go home,' said Grace, clearly exhausted but fighting it all the way. She'd been getting more agitated as the interview wore on.

'You can't go home, Grace, look at the state of you!' admonished Katya Howard, who had arrived only moments ago. She was at least twenty years older than Grace and gave off an aura of authority in her tailor-made charcoal suit, her blonde hair pulled up in a French twist, though now she looked pale and shaken.

'I can't stay here,' argued Grace, closing her eyes, the muscles in her jaw working. 'I won't feel safe till I'm back in my own apartment.'

'Grace -'

'Please,' she begged, tears in her eyes as she supplicated herself to Olivia, the only person she'd kept eye-contact with for longer than three seconds. 'I just … I don't think I can take anymore.'

'I know you're tired,' said Olivia, 'and you've been really brave. We just need you to hang in there a little longer, okay? And then we'll talk to the doctors about how long you need to stay.'

'No. We finish this and then I get to go home,' Grace's face hardened like a child about to throw a fit.

'Grace you've got three cracked ribs and a fractured skull, you need to let the doctors take care of you,' reasoned Elliot.

'You can't keep me here,' she said, moving as if to sit up but instantly regretting it and clutching her ribs, whimpering in pain. 'Oh god, I think I'm gonna be sick.'

Katya had a cardboard sick bowl under Grace's nose scant seconds before she threw up, trying to hold her hair back with the other hand. The two detectives looked on with sympathy and concern: maybe they should take a break, let Grace rest a while - if they could persuade her to it.

Olivia looked at Elliot and knew he was thinking the same thing. Meanwhile Grace was red in the face with suppressed pain but thankfully done vomiting.

'Listen, we're going to go now and give you a chance to rest. We'll be back to talk to you again a little later,' said Olivia, though Grace was still looking mutinous.

'Here's my card if you need anything,' said Katya. 'Send the doctor in on your way out, will you?'

'We will,' they nodded, stepping out into the corridor.

'Is it just me or does that girl look really familiar?' said Stabler as soon as the door was closed.

'It's hard to tell under all those bruises,' said Olivia, stopping at the nurses station. 'Room 113 needs some pain-relief.'

A middle-aged nurse in pink scrubs acknowledged her with a nod, 'I'll grab the doctor first chance.'

'Thanks.'

'I don't know, even the hospital bed seems kind of familiar - it's like I've been here before,' he said, hitting the button for the lift.

'Did you see her hand?'

'No, she kept them under the sheets the entire time,' he said, realising this for the first time.

'There were a couple of fingers missing, frostbite maybe.'

'You didn't ask?'

'It wasn't relevant,' she said, a little defensively. 'Must have happened years ago.'

He cast her a sidelong glance. 'Somebody skipped breakfast,' he said, trying to smother a smile as they stepped onto the elevator.

'Yeah, well, I think I'm glad I did.'

The smile slipped off Elliot's face, 'Yeah,' he said, punching the button with a sigh.

Olivia started writing up the sixty-one as soon as she was seated at her desk with another enormous cup of coffee in front of her. As usual, her partner was nowhere to be seen when there was paperwork to be done and Munch and Fin had gone to speak to the cab driver who had picked up their vic.

'What have we got?' asked Cragen, strolling out of his office. Olivia had that 80% determined, 20% pissed look that was so endearingly familiar as her fingers clacked across the keyboard.

'Twenty-four year old victim. Three or four perps beat up her boyfriend, grabbed her up off the street and then stuffed her in the trunk of their car. They drove her to some deserted underpass and gang-raped her for nearly four hours,' she said, the flash of anger in her eye belying the calmness with which she said it.

'Were you able to get descriptions?' he asked, frowning as he picked up the forensic photographs that had been taken at the hospital and had just arrived on Elliot's desk.

'One was blonde, maybe 6"1, lean, clean-shaven, wearing jeans and a red sweatshirt, late teens to early twenties. He was the only one she got a good look at.'

'What about the boyfriend?'

'He's in intensive care at NY Presbyterian, I doubt we'll be questioning him anytime soon,' said Olivia, sounding slightly frustrated, still tapping away at her report. The faster she finished the faster she could hit the streets and start tracking down these predators.

Cragen was squinting at the photos thoughtfully. 'You know, I think I've -'

'Seen her somewhere before?' asked Olivia, pausing momentarily. 'Elliot said the same thing,' she said curiously.

'Where is Elliot, anyway?' he asked, still trying to place Grace Harringdon's face.

Olivia shrugged, 'He was around twenty minutes ago,' she said helpfully.

'You know, I think I remember a case - must have been eight, nine years ago,' he said, tapping the photo in his hand. 'Teenage girl fished out of the Hudson -'

'It was ten years ago,' corrected Elliot, strolling out of the records room with a thin file in his hand.

'You found her?' asked Olivia, getting up to read over his shoulder. She didn't recognise the photo clipped at the top. 'I don't remember this case,' she said bemusedly.

'I think you were out sick that week, I worked it with Munch - not that there was much to work,' he said, handing her the papers.

'She refused to make a statement?' she asked, flipping the page.

'If I remember correctly, she never talked at all. We had no idea who she was,' said Cragen, shaking his head slightly.

'She just landed in the river one night. Luckily a boat saw her and got her out of the water pretty quick but she was in a bad way.'

'The doctor's report says there were lacerations to her hands that got infected-'

'That's the Hudson for you,' said Elliot.

'- they were forced to amputate five fingers,' she said, grimacing. 'Drug-tests showed ketamine in her system and a medical examination showed a history of physical abuse and that she had recently given birth? How old was this girl?'

'Fourteen,' answered Stabler, grimly.

'There were no missing person reports?'

'Not matching our girl.'

'So what happened to her?' asked Olivia.

'Last I heard she was taken to a psychiatric hospital. I went back there once a month for six months and she never said a word. Not one word. Thing is, nobody knew if she was mute before.'

'She's not mute anymore,' said Olivia, looking meaningfully at her partner. 'And we've got a name.'

'Do I have to remind you that you're meant to be investigating what happened last night, not a decade ago?' said Cragen, handing them the hospital photos he was still holding.

Olivia bit her lip, knowing he was probably right. She nodded reluctantly.

But that didn't mean she wasn't going to come back to it the minute this case was over and, by the looks of it, her partner felt the same way. She went back to writing her report, more determined than ever.

As ever! R&R! Please!

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