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.

11

"Elliot!"

Panic took hold of Olivia's heart as she noticed that he lost consciousness. That was not good. That was not good at all.

"What is it?" Buster asked. He was right beside her.

"He's passed out," she said. "One moment we were talking, the next he fainted."

"Perhaps he's hurt himself when he moved so fast."

"He's probably wounded internally by the accident." Or the beating, she thought. Cornwell, this scumbag.

"I'm almost through," Buster tried to cheer her up. "Just give me a couple of minutes."

We don't have time. At least he has no time. He needs a doctor.

She heard Buster work. All she could do was hold her partner close to her chest and wish for him to wake up again, to hold out until they could get out, until they could find help… It was hopeless!

"Liv?"

She did not hear him even though his head rested on her shoulder. Lost in her grief she did not notice that he was awake.

"Olivia."

"Elliot?"

"Don't cry, honey. The tears will just freeze."

It was only then that she noticed her tears rolling freely down her cheek and into his hair.

"Oh, Elliot. I thought I'd lost you."

"I'm through!" Buster shouted. He crawled through the hole and looked around.

Just a few flakes were falling. It was unaccustomarily silent. Even though they were not in the direct vicinity of houses, there should have been sounds, like traffic. Dom had found just one exit that led down in the parks. Buster crawled back in.

"It stopped snowing. We can leave and see if we can find help."

Cornwell groaned as Buster hit him accidentally.

"Come on, Ma'am. I'll help you with him."

"It's Detective, okay… not Ma'am."

"Detective. Let's move." He tried to grab one of Elliot's arms to help him, but Elliot shook it off.

"I can crawl on my own," he grumbled. "Just get this pile of shit out of my way."

The pile of shit grunted and wriggled against the hands that tried to free his legs. Olivia had her gun ready when Buster opened the cuffs. He climbed through the hole and waited on the other side for Cornwell to tie him up again. Then Olivia followed.

"Okay, let me see if I can help nevertheless," Buster said and dove back in through the hole. Finally Elliot let him help. It was a difficult task to crawl out with only one good leg and cracked ribs, but he managed it. Once outside, though he did not admit it easily, he also needed help to remain standing. He put his right arm around the guy's neck. Buster on the other hand wrapped his arm around Elliot's waist. The detective flinched. It hurt badly.

"Where the hell are we?" Olivia asked.

"New Jersey," Buster answered.

"Don't tell me you passed the Bridge during the storm!" She was thunderstruck. "Are you crazy? You could have killed all of us!"

"Don't remind me." In the darkness no one could see him flush. "It wasn't my idea and Dom was driving."

"Where do we go?"

"Across the park. This way."

Buster pointed in the direction and Olivia went on towards some barely perceptible lights, gesturing Cornwell to walk in front of her. They just took several steps when it screeched and crashed behind them. Except of two tires and some metal splinters sticking out, only a large heap of snow was visible in the pale moonlight.

"That was a narrow escape." Olivia shivered. "Let's go."

When Fin and John reached Riverside Park a shock awaited them. Now that the moon was out the fresh snow shimmered in its light. The drifts softened the hard contours of the concrete canyons. And here at the park everything looked peaceful.

Except of the disturbed bushes just opposite 119th Street. Fresh snow had covered the tire tracks but a broken bush remained a broken bush.

When the detectives entered the park they found the car they were searching for. It had hit a tree and was nothing more than scrap.

"Fuck," Fin yelled and jumped into the snow that turned out to reach his hips at this place.

John was more careful when he searched a way down to the car. Both detectives feared what they would find… their two colleagues and friends, wounded by the crash and frozen to death.

Fin was the first who reached the open passenger's door. A snow drift had formed halfway inside and covered part of the seat. His heart pounded wildly as he bowed down to take a closer look. With his flashlight he shone inside.

The car was empty.

"They're not here!" Fin shouted to John and beat the roof of the vehicle. "Fuck! They're not here! I don't know if I should laugh or cry!"

"When they're not here that has to mean that they were able to walk away on their own. They can't be too badly wounded." His calm voice belied his own fears.

"Where will they have turned from here?" Fin wondered aloud. "The precinct is too far away. Back to the pool hall, or the university?"

"Isn't there a church?" John asked.

"Yeah, Riverside Church," Fin confirmed. "A really big one. Financed by Rockefeller Jr. in the early 20th."

"Try the church? Elliot would go to a church."

"Try the church."

Endless seemed the park to be. In the deep snow walking became more and more difficult. To trudge through the drifts was strenuous and they only got along very slowly.

Cornwell was the first with Olivia following closely. They cleared a spur for Buster and Elliot who were already left a good part behind.

"Wait," Olivia said.

They stopped for a moment, not to lose contact with the others.

Yet, soon enough it was too hard for Elliot. Even though Buster was supporting him, he could not muster the strength to walk any further.

"Shall I change to the other side?" Buster asked him.

"No. I can't cling to you with the left." Elliot sighed. "How far do we have to go?"

"Well…" Buster looked up to estimate the distance. It was not too far, at least not for him. But for Elliot it could have been a marathon course as well. "You'll manage it anyway," he said. "Your partner will be more than pissed if you stay behind."

"I know." He had to cough again and groaned as a new wave of pain swept through his body.

"Detective!" Buster cried. "Wait for us!"

"Stop," she ordered Cornwell and looked over her shoulder. "Come back with me."

"I'm staying here."

"You'll come with me."

"Make me." He grinned and leaned back on one leg. Though cuffed behind his back he managed to assume an arrogant posture.

Olivia resisted the temptation to grab and shove him. Most likely she would not succeed as he was so much heavier than herself. So she went alone to the two men.

"Elliot? We're almost there. You'll make it. Come on, partner!" Ignoring her own exhaustion she took his left arm and put it around her neck. He groaned again due to the pain in his shoulder. "I know, it hurts. But we're so close. Now, c'mon."

Her encouragements were fruitless. As soon as he started to move his legs gave way underneath him and he threatened to fall.

"That doesn't work," Buster said. He tightened his grip on Elliot's upper body and bowed down to pick up his legs. "Let go," he told Olivia as he lifted the detective up.

"You can't carry him the whole way!"

"And he can't walk it," Buster contradicted. "Go on!"

Olivia stayed at his side as he fought his way through the drifts with Elliot on his arms. Cornwell eyed them with an amused look on his face.

"Why don't you leave him behind?" he asked with a smug grin. "He's as good as dead."

Olivia lifted her gun, aiming at his head. Her eyes narrowed.

"So are you if you don't shut up."

"Sweet bitch is still fighting the truth, Buster," he laughed. "Curses, like chickens, come home to roost. You don't know that, lady detective?"

She cocked the trigger.

"Detective." Buster could not believe it. "That's the wrong way."

"One wrong word and you're history," she hissed through gritted teeth. The hard knot of fear in her gut tightened with anger.

"Dead," Cornwell teased. "He's as good…"

"No," Buster cried out, but the shot already echoed through the still of the night.