Chapter 22

"Olivia, you're not going."

Olivia froze, her eyes hardening as she returned her captain's stubborn glare. "What do you mean I'm not going? You're making me ride my desk?" Her voice was suddenly sharp, biting.

"I'm not putting you on desk duty," Cragen returned softly. "I'm sending you home."

"I am not going home. You need somebody there who can tell you what you're looking for. I can do that, Captain. I can handle it." Her eyes sought his, begging him, pleading for him to understand.

"Olivia, you've already given us your statement. CSU will be there. If he left any evidence, we're going to find it." Cragen's voice was reassuring, but he felt the resistance behind it weakening.

"You don't think I can handle it?" Olivia laughed bitterly. "You think I'm going to just fall apart, don't you?" Her voice rose slowly, each word filled with accusation and a hurt he had no idea how to erase.

Cragen reached for her arm to comfort her, to somehow help her to understand. "Olivia, nobody's saying…"

"Get off of me," she hissed, sidestepping his advances violently. She whipped around to face him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop making excuses. If you trusted me, you would let me do my job." Her words were filled with a mixture of betrayal and a fury he had never heard from her.

"Olivia, you're too involved in this case. You need some distance."

"I don't need some distance," she spat out. "I need closure. And I'm sure as hell not going to get it while I'm waiting around for you to find him."

"Olivia…" Cragen blinked hard, fighting for the words to tell her what he knew she could never accept. It was never enough. It didn't matter what he said. Nothing in his words could ever come close to protecting her. Nothing in his words could hide a truth that stung far more than the words that had just escaped from her lips. This wasn't just an ordinary case. As much as he wanted to deny it, it wasn't just about finding the perp. It was about protecting her. And he was desperate to believe she didn't need that protection. He was desperate to cave in to her demands because it was easier than admitting that she had become the victim. It was easier to allow her to step up to the role that she had always assumed than to admit this was the one time he had no choice but to strip that role away from her.

He wanted to empower her, wanted so much to give her back the strength and confidence she was desperately seeking. He wanted to give her back the sense of control she had lost. But doing so would only hurt her further. Doing so would put everything she had left at risk. As much as he might try to deny it, the only way left to protect her was to do the one thing that would truly turn her into a victim. And he was afraid of what that would do to her. He was afraid of what that would do to all of them. It was a hell of a lot easier to pretend there was no distinction between who she had once been and the fractured remains of the woman who stood before him now than to acknowledge at what point the line between the two had blurred.

Olivia could feel her lower lip trembling, could somehow sense his crumbling resolve. "Captain, you need me there." Her voice began to break. "This is my job. Now you've said it before--we don't get to pick the vic." She paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "My past has always been a part of this job, and that's never going to change. This is no different."

"Olivia, you know that's not true," Cragen protested quietly. "This isn't just your past."

She bit her lip, willing away the physical reminder of the weakness she was so desperate to mask. "No, you're right. This is my life we're talking about. And I'm not letting him get away with it. I want to be there."

All of the emotion hidden behind her words slammed into the harsh reality of the moment, of the truth behind what she was asking of him. Every situation he'd ever faced, every decision he'd ever made somehow paled in comparison to the one that stood before him now. Cragen forced himself to draw in a deep breath, fighting for every last bit of strength. "Olivia, go home. You've done all you can for today. I'm not sending you out on this search. This guy is after you for whatever reason, and I want you someplace safe."

Olivia stepped back, the look of shock on her face somehow reflecting a mixture of emotions he made no attempt to identify. "I can't believe you're sending me home."

Cragen sought out her eyes, needing her to somehow understand what he could never find the words to communicate. "Olivia, I'm not about to lose you again. Go home. Do what you need to do. You'll know when you're ready to come back."

"Anthony Estello, open up!" Fin pounded on the door in front of him one more time. He shot a look at his partner. Before he could step toward the door again, it slid open a crack.

"Who the hell are you?"

Elliot didn't allow Fin the opportunity to respond. He pushed him aside, allowing the door to swing open the rest of the way as he forced his way inside. "Detective Stabler," he announced, flashing his shield. He turned around slowly, watching as Munch and Fin followed him inside.

Anthony's eyes darted back to the one familiar figure still standing in the doorway. "Detective Munch," he managed weakly. "Has there been a break in the case?"

Elliot approached him slowly, his eyes hardening. Anthony retreated back away from him until his back was to the wall. Elliot's lips twisted upward in satisfaction. He reached for Anthony's arm, whipping him around in a single motion that left him gasping with pain. "There's going to be a break in your arm if you don't start talking to me now."

The eyes that stared back at him now were begging, pleading. "Let go of me."

"Is that what Leslie Carlton said when you led her to her death?" Fin added, sidling up beside Elliot.

Anthony's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?" he gasped, his face contorted in pain.

"I don't like it when people lie to me," Munch commented, observing from afar. "And as you can see, Detective Stabler here doesn't like it when someone hurts his partner."

The eyes darted back and forth between each of them. "I don't know anything about that." Elliot's grip tightened, twisting his arm a little further. "Okay, okay," Anthony whimpered.

Munch's eyes darted quickly over to Fin. "Elliot," he cautioned softly.

Elliot didn't respond. His eyes were focused straight ahead. He didn't see Anthony Estello anymore. All he saw was pure, raw, physical pain clouding her eyes and bruises lining her body. All he heard was her voice, a voice filled with a vulnerability he had never known in her.

Yes, it is. It's my fault for letting things get like this. It's my fault for letting him get too close.

The words reverberated in his head. My fault. Olivia's fault. No, it wasn't her fault. It was his. It was his fault for being so damn selfish and not seeing how the Bennett case was affecting her. It was his fault for allowing her to take care of him when she desperately needed someone to take care of her. It was his fault for not being there. How could she possibly think that it was her fault when it was so clearly his own? How could she possibly accept the responsibility for where he had screwed up? It was his responsibility to sense when she was falling and to be there to catch her. It was his responsibility to always have her back. It was his job to protect her. And he had failed miserably. Not only had he not protected her, he had made her more vulnerable.

Elliot, I thought he was safe. I wanted so much to trust in somebody that I believed him when he said he was a friend of yours because I thought if there was one person whose judgment I could always trust, it was you.

His eyes stung with tears. His breath caught in his chest. He pushed harder, wanting so much to take away the tremble in her voice, the pain in her eyes. The image in front of him began to blur. He could vaguely make out the sound of voices ringing out with alarm, but he pushed them away. He pushed them further and further away until her voice was the only one that remained.

If there was one person whose judgment I could always trust, it was you.

It was you. It was him. It was…

"Elliot." A rough hand grasped his shoulders. "Elliot, stop it." Elliot blinked hard. He turned toward Fin, blinking back tears. And then he saw the man in front of him for the first time. His face was white, his eyes filled with terror as he cowered back up against the wall. Elliot staggered back away from him, fighting for control.

"I don't have any idea what happened to Leslie." Anthony's voice was still shaking.

"You're going to have to do better than that," Fin sneered. "Come on, Anthony. Are you telling me that it's just a coincidence that your dear old prison buddy Jamison attacked Leslie Carlton?"

Anthony's eyes widened. "Jamison attacked Leslie?"

"Don't even try to tell me you didn't know. Jamison attacked Leslie just like he attacked another woman." Munch stepped closer. "Only this one made it out alive, and she seems to recall being taken to this building during her attack."

"And if you think your arm is hurting now, you just wait till we get you to Rikers. Prison guards don't like it when you help assault a fellow officer." Fin's voice was cold.

"Whoa, wait a minute. I didn't assault anyone. You can't take me back there." Anthony backed up away from them, his voice tinged in desperation.

"Sure we can. It's called accessory to rape and murder. Add that on to the kidnapping charge, and we can put you away for a good long time." Munch crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, and I'll haul your ass in right now unless you start talkin'," Fin interjected.

Anthony moved a little further away from Elliot. "I don't know anything about it, I swear. But if Jamison's your guy, I might be able to help you out with where he took her."

For the fist time, Elliot snapped back to attention. "Where?" he demanded.

Anthony's eyes darted back and forth nervously. "A few months back, Jamison calls me up out of the blue. He said he needed a favor. He was looking for some place to store some stuff. I had an empty basement here at the shop. It has its own private entrance. I gave him a key."

The three of them exchanged looks. "And you didn't bother to check and see what he had down there?" Munch prompted sarcastically.

Anthony shook his head. "Why would I care? I have no reason to go down there. We used to store extra bolts of fabric there, but there's too much moisture this time of year. It was bad for the fabric."

"Yeah, well raping and murdering your customers is bad for business," Fin shot back.

"I told you I never raped or murdered anyone." Anthony wiped away the bead of sweat forming on his brow. "What do I have to do to convince you of that?"

"Are you willing to let us take a look around down there?" Elliot demanded.

Anthony hesitated. "I told you. I have no idea what he's been doing down there. If he was involved in something, I don't want to know about it."

"It's a little late for that." Munch allowed his voice to soften. "But if you help us out, it will look good for you."

Anthony turned toward Elliot. His shoulders slumped forward. "Fine, just….you stay away from me. I didn't hurt anyone." He sighed, shuffling through the key ring on his belt. "You can't get down there through the store," he insisted. "The only way down is through the back."

The click of the deadbolt as it slammed into place resounded through the empty apartment. Olivia braced herself against the door, slowly allowing the false bravado to dissipate in the privacy of her own living room. Cragen's words were still vivid in her memory.

I'm sending you home.

Olivia closed her eyes as if to block out the harsh words she had spat back at him. She had thrown every excuse she could possibly think of back at him. She had fought like hell for independence, for respect, for the illusion that nothing had changed. She had done exactly what he would have expected from her. And for a brief moment, she thought she saw him falter.

She had come to him prepared to demand what she knew he would never willingly give. She had come to him ready to fight for what she was sure he would never allow. She had counted on him to counter every demand she made. But she hadn't counted on shaking his ability to distinguish right from wrong. She hadn't counted on almost winning. And as she watched him falter, the emotion that tore through her nearly broke every last bit of resolve.

She hadn't counted on Cragen not fighting back. He had held her eyes as if silently giving in to her. She had demanded something of him, something that all of a sudden she realized he might actually give her.

And the reality of it had terrified her because she needed him to stand his ground. Olivia had never known how to communicate her needs, had never learned to accept help without admitting dependence on someone else. So instead, she relied on instinct to satisfy what she was too afraid do openly admit.

She relied on what she had known he would never give her. She fought because she didn't know any other way of admitting that she hadn't been ready to come back in the first place. She fought because she needed someone to tell her that she didn't have to relive those memories by going back. She fought because she needed assurance that when she was ready to come back, there would be a place for her. She fought because she needed something to hold onto.

Elliot held onto the railing as if his life depended on it. He had known even before Fin hit the light what they would find. He had instinctively sensed what had once been her presence. His eyes scanned the dimly lit room, seeking out a confirmation he no longer needed.

"It's exactly like Liv described it," Munch echoed quietly.

"Come on." Fin nudged them forward gently. He allowed his eyes to take in the mostly barren room. "Liv wasn't kidding when she said there was nothing down here," he mumbled.

"Not just nothing," Munch observed. "No one either. This place is completely empty. I don't think he's been here in days."

Munch crossed over to the bed. He knelt down closer, grabbing his flashlight to get a better look. "Dried blood on the bed," he noted softly.

Fin hollered at him from across the basement. "Hey, check this out. There's another room back here."

Munch quickened his step to follow his partner. "Well, what do you know? A blue ratcheting strap. We'll take this back to the lab, but I'm sure it's a match to the fibers found on Leslie's body."

"And a miniature pharmacy." Fin raised his voice, "Hey, Elliot, come take a look at this."

There was no response from the other room. "Elliot!" Munch repeated. He sighed before turning back around and retreating back into the other room. He hesitated at the doorway. "Elliot?" His words were cautious this time. Elliot turned toward them slowly.

Fin's footsteps were uncertain as he crossed over toward him. "What is it, Elliot?"

When Elliot raised his eyes to meet theirs, they were filled with tears. "It's Liv's necklace," he managed quietly. "I…never really looked at it. I know she wears it all the time, even when she sleeps. I never knew it meant anything."

Munch's hand closed around the thin chain, holding it out for both of them to see. "Fearlessness," he read out loud, his voice somber.

Elliot stared straight ahead. His voice caught in his throat. "She was my partner, and I never once asked her about it. I never asked her why she wouldn't take it off during a case. I never asked her why it was so important to her. I should have known."

"Elliot, you're a good partner." Fin tried to reassure him, but he could already see him shutting down. He exchanged looks with Munch.

"Don't tell me I shouldn't have noticed," Elliot shot back. "A good partner would have picked up on that. A good partner would have noticed that she was hurting after the Bennett case. A good partner would have made sure she got home safe."

"Elliot, what happened isn't your fault. You can't watch over her twenty-four hours a day," Fin protested.

Munch remained silent, his eyes drawn to an object on the floor beside the bed. He turned toward both of them slowly, the look on his face grave. "Elliot, does Liv have a protective detail?"

Elliot snapped back to attention. "No, why?"

Munch shifted slightly. "Because here's her purse."

Elliot grabbed the bag out of his hands, dumping the contents out in front of him. He drew in a breath sharply. "Where are her clothes?"

Munch had already checked them. "They're not here Elliot. They're missing."

Fin turned toward him slowly, alarm in his voice. "What's missing?"

Munch's voice was grim. "The keys to her apartment and her driver's license…"

"With the address to her apartment," Fin finished. "Did anyone call a locksmith when Liv came home from the hospital?" He searched his memory frantically. It was standard protocol, but nothing about this case had been standard. They hadn't done anything by the book.

Munch shook his head sheepishly. "No, we were all too worried about everything else going on. We never thought he'd go after her again."

Elliot was absolutely silent. Cragen's words echoed through his head.

Elliot, he's not going to stop until we catch him.

Munch interrupted his thoughts. "Hey guys, I think we've got a bigger problem."

Fin finally dared to look over toward him. He was holding up an empty holster. He took a deep breath. "Yeah, like where's her gun?"