The Santa Incident
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of LO:SVU or any other show mentioned here. I don't own the rights of the songs either. I'm making no money out of this whatsoever. Don't sue me, I have no money.
8
When John woke up barely an hour later he found Fin on the camp bed next to him. He got up to sit on the brim and grabbed his partner's shoulder to wake him.
"What?" mumbled Fin.
"What about the music?" John asked. "Didn't you want to sing something for us?"
"Why did you go?" Fin asked back. "It wasn't fun without you."
"Don't blame me. It was your stupid idea."
"It wasn't stupid, man!" Fin also sat up. "Damn, it's still storming," he said, listening to the shrill whining.
"I really do hope that Olivia and Elliot are at one of the other precincts. This storm is murderous."
"I can't remember if I've ever seen a heavier blizzard than this." Fin stared at the window. Thick flakes stuck to it before they slowly slid down and fell. There was nothing to see than snow and darkness.
"Perhaps they went back to the bar to wait there."
"It's fruitless to speculate about that. There's nothing we can do right now."
"That's what's eating away on us," John stated. It made him sick to stare at the whirling snow. He felt caged. He wanted to do… something, but could not. A look at Fin told him that his partner also looked for an outlet for his energy. "How about push-ups?" he asked.
Fin glared at him.
The flashlight did good service to Olivia. Once more she examined Elliot's injuries and treated them as good as she could. Then she turned the light off. It was not wise to use up the batteries.
Muffled by the thick drifts of snow, the whining of the storm was hardly audible. Instead the frame of the van squealed occasionally. The weight of the snow began to press it together.
"We can't stay here forever," Cornwell grunted. "What do you plan to do, bitch?"
"It's still storming. Whoever goes outside will freeze in an instant," she said to Elliot more than Cornwell and instinctively tightened her hold on him.
She leaned against the wall of the van and had drawn her partner to her chest. Her arms wrapped around him she tried to give warmth and received an odd feeling of security in turn as she felt his constant breathing. It seemed to her as if it was not as cold as in the beginning. Probably the snow isolated, as it did manufactured into an igloo.
Yet, they could not stay here. Olivia knew that. And as soon as the storm decreased someone would have to try to get out and get help.
She felt Elliot shiver.
"I know, it's cold," she whispered into his ear. "Hold out, sweetheart. We'll be fine. You'll see."
"I wish I could believe you," he murmured back.
Olivia never had heard him speak in such a weak voice. It sounded defeated. It scared the shit out of her.
"You could get Dom's clothes," Cornwell's second companion suggested. They could hear him struggle as he tried to sit up. "He won't need them anymore."
Olivia looked in the direction of his voice. "How do you feel?" she asked.
"Cold, too," he answered. "But I'm not wounded."
"I'm freezing!" Cornwell complained. "How about something to warm me?"
"You're wounded?" his comrade yelled. "No?! Then shut up you filthy bastard."
"You're dead, Buster!" Invisibly in the darkness Cornwell turned deep red with rage. "You're so brave only because I'm cuffed! You coward!"
"At least I made up my mind," Buster barked. "If you'll release me, I'll help you, Ma'am."
Olivia thought about that offer. If he was cheating her it could be dangerous.
"Let him," Elliot said suddenly. "He did not want to take us. Cornwell forced him."
"You're sure?" she whispered and he nodded. "Then I have to get up now." Olivia pushed him a bit forward to be able to get out from under him. She stood up and went for Buster to take off the belt that held his hands. As soon as he was freed he rubbed his arms and legs to get a bit warmer. Then he turned towards his dead friend.
"Sorry, Dom," he said when he unbuckled the seatbelt and the body dropped.
Together with Olivia he got pants and coat off. Then they went to Elliot and helped him to put both on.
"Is it just me, or is the air somewhat poor?" Buster asked.
"There's barely getting fresh air in and there are four of us." Olivia sighed. "It won't get better…"
"Shall I try to get through this drift over the windshield?"
For a moment she thought about this. "We have to find a way to get out," she finally said. "It doesn't matter if we're trying now."
She picked up the flashlight and shone in the front of the van. The windshield was cracked but almost complete. He had to remove part of it first.
"You can't do this with your hands. Let's try find a tool."