BUGGERFUCK I AM SUCH A MORON…
I AM SORRY I DID THAT TO ALL OF YOU AND IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN. I YELLED. I WAS STUPID. I DIDN'T UPDATE FOREVER.
I AM SO SORRY.
but now that Olivia is gone and Dani is being a FEWL on this season, I figured you needed some relief. so here is some OEness because you ain't getting it on the show right now. Dick Wolf gets another broom handle up intestine from me.
so here's a new chapter. I'm sorry it's not long, but I've got to work some things out and I don't want to let you down again with another stupid decision. I made a lot of mistakes and I want to make up for them, so I hope you guy scan hang in there and count on me for a bit. I won't fail you like I did before.
…
It took him almost a heartbeat to interpret the message. Maybe two blinks of an eye to react. In the time anyone else would have inhaled, he was already on his way toward the door, trying to remember if his gun was still in the glove box.
His mind was unreliably one-track this morning, pure adrenaline replacing the blood in his veins as he refused the red lights that he encountered. He had a fleeting vision of blood all over his hands and his foot hit the floor, dangerous and willed and pissed as hell.
The car was suddenly too slow for him and he held himself back from the urge to get out and simply run his legs off, but common sense still nagged at the back of his mind. It pulled him toward the one place he needed to be right now. If Cragen wasn't almost dead, his voice would be on the com right now, steady but angry, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing. If Munch and Fin weren't still plastered to hospital beds, they might be right behind him, eyes wide and wild as they kept on his bumper. But he was alone now, and the kids were alone, and he was the only one standing up for either side.
The street signs were unreadable at his speed, and none of the other cars seemed willing to participate in the drag race he was trying to win, but he swerved in and out just as he would in a chase, gun ready on the seat beside him. Partnerless for the first time, he felt the emptiness in the car and it made him drive faster, his heart pounding even harder, attempting to burst through his ribs with every pulse.
He found the street, the two cars pulled up side by side in front of a drug store. He understood Olivia's strategy and he was smiling in spite of himself. A gun in each hand, he made his way for the door.
…
Get out of isolation. Find a large group of people. Attempt to blend.
It was the only thing she could come up with, and she was hoping to god that it was working. A kid on either side, they took shaking steps down the first aisle, clinging to each other with naught but desperate breaths, wondering if the other was going to pull them through this. They would all step before the bullet if it meant the other two were to live, but none of them would leave each other's company now, still huddled awkwardly as they walked down fresh blue and white tiles. The air smelled like cleaning products and their breaths were suddenly frail and stale.
A man had stepped in front of them.
"Stay with me," She whispered, taking their hands. They responded only with their actions, willing themselves to slow their steps so that they walked in sync. They passed a woman shopping with her infant son, a man looking at sunscreen. They remained unobserved, another set of strangers in a world of unnoticed existences. They squeezed her palms, Lizzie letting out a small gasp as Olivia turned, seeing the knife catching in the light as it peered out from the man's sleeve. He gave them a strange smile, one that could almost have passed for reassurance as he stepped closer.
If she let out a scream, they'd go for the kids. If she tried to fight, they'd kill her. There were three of them and one of her and with the kids beside her, the odds had never been worse.
Elliot, where the hell are you?
But at that moment, a gunshot rang out in the stark cleanliness of the scene before her. The woman ahead of them screamed and plucked her baby from the seat of the cart, crouching to the floor with her son against her chest. Olivia turned, watching as the man closest to them slumped to the floor, black and red smearing against the boxes of cereal behind him.
Elliot was standing an arm's length away, gun in an outstretched hand.
There were two more, their guns drawn as they stood on either side of him. He held his arms up on both sides and cocked both weapons, his eyes remaining on Olivia. She found herself unable to breathe, her hands tightening around the shoulders of Lizzie and Dickie.
"Drop 'em," The taller one said, nodding at the weapons in his hands. The other man was waving his piece around, causing everyone else in the store to yelp and drop to their knees, covering their heads as they crouched behind the nearest product displays. When Elliot didn't respond, the man frowned. "I said drop 'em!"
Elliot lowered his arms, and then crouched until his knees had hit the floor with a deafening thump. Yet he had not dropped his guns.
There was a click as the man above him cocked his piece, turning it now in Olivia's direction. "I told you to drop your guns."
Elliot did as he was told, finally letting them fall to the ground beside him. The second man hurried forward to pick them up, bending over and reaching for the nearest piece. Just as he had bent across Elliot's kneeling shape, he'd come alive with a flurry of hands, a crunch of bones and flesh silencing the air around them as the man fell to Elliot's feet. Now standing, Elliot set the gun to the taller man's temple, breathing hard, flecks of blood sitting lightly on his sweating skin.
"God help me if I don't kill you now." Elliot whispered, pulse pounding against the cold metal of the gun. The man's hands were empty now, his breath slow and weak.
The man's eyes flickered momentarily onto his companion, lying motionless on the floor, his face a mess of blood and bone. When his pupils met Elliot's, his brows furrowed, his throat tightening with each word. He knew he was a dead man, and he was accepting it. "What the hell do you want?" He whispered, staring into his opponents eyes.
Elliot's eyes narrowed, the gun pressing harder into the son of a bitch's skull. "I want you to stay away from my family, you mother-fucking bastard." And with that, he knocked the man above his ear with the butt of his gun, a move almost as swift as a shot itself. The man crumpled to the tile, eyes fluttering closed as they rolled into the back of his head.
There was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing for a few moments, stiffening the air with the ragged edge of reality. And then he turned. And their eyes met. And she stepped forward just as he was moving closer.
And then he held all three of them, just for a few minutes longer. Just so that it counted.
…