I'm really sorry I've left you guys hanging for so long! It really just couldn't be avoided. But the good news is, I have the rest of the story finished, and will be publishing a chapter a day until I run out. Unless I get hit by a bus ;)
If I've stopped reviewing your story, it's nothing personal, I just haven't had time to read anyone's! I've missed this site and I'm dying to catch up as soon as I have some free time.
So...Here it is! The big confrontation. I'm done agonizing over it. Enjoy :)
Olivia watched, horrified, as the nurse in front of her dissolved into tears. She felt panic claw at her, but years in the field allowed her to push her emotions down with practiced calm.
"Hey," she said, taking the nurse by her shoulders. "Hey, sweetie, what's your name?"
The girl sniffed, and wiped shakily at her eyes, embarrassed. "Lily." The tremor in her voice was a dead giveaway–this girl was terrified, of McAllister and this hospital and what her small rebellion might cost her. But they'd gone this far, and she knew Elliot didn't have another moment to waste.
"Lily, thank you. You did the right thing. Because of you, Elliot's still alive. But he needs your help one last time." She searched her eyes. "I do, too. Will you do one more thing for us?"
Her hesitation was agony. Olivia searched her eyes, looking for some sign of decision, but saw only the persistent flicker of fear. Finally, Lily closed her eyes, took a shaky breath, and nodded shortly. "Tell me what you need."
She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Thank you," she sighed. She needed an ally here, someone on the inside. "I'm going to call my friend, she's a doctor. Can you wait in the lobby and bring her up?"
"Yeah," Lily agreed, breathless. "What does she look like?"
Olivia told her. "Thank you," she added, before fishing out a card. "If something happens to me, I need you to find my squad and tell them what happened."
"Of course," she said softly, suddenly looking terrified for her, as if it hadn't even occurred to her how dangerous this man truly was. Olivia flashed her a quick, comforting smile before getting the fastest possible directions out of her and racing off. The hallways flashed by, a constant, monotonous blur of white that filled her with a fresh hatred for this place. She dialed Melinda along the way, and quickly explained to her as much as she could, before receiving word that she would be there in less than twenty minutes.
"Thank you," she said to no one, as the line went dead. At last she arrived in front of the exam room doors, room 2008, white and featureless like everything else in this damned hospital. In a sudden rush of empathy, she understood why Elliot had been so afraid to come back here. The place was a prison. But she didn't linger long on that thought, her hand moving to her gun and bringing it close to her body. She kicked the doors open. "N.Y.P.D.," she barked as the two lab techs jumped out of their chairs.
"You can't be in here," one of them stuttered as she flashed them her badge, her eyes scanning the room with something akin to desperation.
There. Her eyes found Dr. McAllister, behind the glass, and then Elliot. Lying frail and helpless as a doll. Her heart did a somersault, and she didn't think she was strong enough to do this, but a tiny flash of green brought her back to the world. The doctor was wielding a vial of sickly, poisonous green liquid, and had just attached it to the central line in Elliot's chest, preparing to push it in. Before she knew it, Olivia had rushed the test room, her gun aimed straight at McAllister's heart.
"Drop it," she commanded, voice shaking with fury. "Now, McAllister."
The man's eyes met hers, and she wondered how she had failed to see the ice there before. It was alarming; she knew right away that this man could not be swayed by humanity or any common decency. McAllister sighed as he saw her, irritated. "Kindly point your gun somewhere else, Sergeant."
He wasn't putting the syringe down. He wasn't stepping away. And the way he was holding it, angled slightly towards her so she could see it, his finger tracing the button, a sly smile on his face; it was a threat if she ever saw one. Whatever that liquid was, Olivia couldn't allow him to put it in her partner.
"Dr. McAllister," she repeated in a voice that was as calm as she was furious. "Please step away from Elliot."
His eyes grew colder, his mouth twisted in distaste. "This is a simple tracing agent," he said in a rehearsed, bored monotone. "If I don't conduct the test now, Elliot's life will be in further danger. Drop your gun."
His voice was a threat, every practiced word laced with menace. He was speaking in carefully veiled threats, probably designed to protect him in court someday, which meant that he was planning on getting out of this alive. It also meant, very clearly, that Elliot was his prisoner. So Olivia switched into hostage negotiation mode, into her most vigilant, most observant self. The part of her that only existed to keep the victim alive. She kept her eyes off of Elliot's face, determined to hold her emotions apart, to be only the best for her partner when he needed it most.
She would play the same game the doctor was playing, and hope she didn't take it too far. "I'm requesting a new doctor," she informed him. "You no longer have permission to treat Elliot. Step away from him."
It was such a strange conversation they were having, a face off, each with their own gun pointed at the other's heart. In this case, Olivia's heart happened to be Elliot. Eventually, McAllister scowled. "Oh, cut the crap, Olivia." He stared hard at her. "If you even think about pulling that trigger, I assure you, I'll get my shot in first. So drop your gun," he commanded, voice hard. His thumb tapped meaningfully on the syringe, lightly enough to not push any of the liquid through, but only just. If he applied even a little more pressure, Elliot's life would be over.
Olivia stiffened at the doctor's command. There was little she hated more than surrendering her weapon, defenseless but for her wits and the vague promise of help on the way, with her partner's life on the table. She still had her ankle gun, but she didn't see how she could reach it, not with this man watching her every move, an instant away from ending her partner's life. Hatred blinded her, but the cop inside quickly took over, and she unfroze her fingers one by one, moving slowly and non-threateningly as she set the gun down on the floor and kicked it across the room, taking a little piece of her hope with it.
McAllister stooped to pick it up, and had expertly taken ahold of it before she could blink. Now he held the gun in one hand, admiring it, and her partner's life in the other. A sour smile spreading across his face, he pointed her own gun at her. A memory broke through her focus, of another man and another gun that was supposed to be hers, but she pushed it back quickly.
"You don't have to do this," Olivia said for the millionth time in her life. "You are a respected doctor in this establishment. You could walk out now, we could both forget this ever happened and move on with our lives." No one has to die.
His gaze was hard. "That's not happening."
She swallowed. So much for that. "What's your plan, then? You must have one. What's your plan for getting out of this building alive after you murder a cop?"
He stared at her blankly, eyes flickering to the door for the briefest moment. "Elliot is a coma patient who left this hospital against medical advice. The autopsy will show that his weakened heart simply couldn't cope with the stress placed on it when he tried to resume normal activities."
"You know that's not going to work," she said, daring to take the tiniest step closer. He tightened his grip on the gun at her movement, eyes flaring with anger at her refusal to stay put. "We have witnesses, McAllister. Records of your correspondence with an assassin. What do you want to bet there are security cameras in here?"
He didn't answer, but she could see the tension growing inside of him. It was only a matter of time before he slipped.
"And what about me?" She challenged, taking a small step forward, hands up. "What will my autopsy show if you shoot me now?"
His jaw hardened, the rage rolling off of him in waves. Suddenly, disturbingly, he smiled. "You are an awful lot like I imagined, Olivia, I must say."
She stopped.
"So fierce. So protective. What would you do, if I killed Elliot right now?" He watched her, a smile playing hatefully on his lips. "What would you think, if I were to tell you the real purpose that Elliot has served me all these years?"
She forgot herself. "What are you talking about?"
McAllister smirked at her. "When I first found Elliot, he was the perfect John Doe. No family, no loved ones…" He flashed a chilling grin at her. "He made the perfect test subject."
She forgot to breathe, realizing too late that he was playing her. Elliot's weakness, his problems in memory —Might they not have been side effects of his coma, but something this man actually did to him?
"What did you to do to him?" Olivia tried not to demand the question, tried to resist the overwhelming rage that was creeping into her veins. Maddeningly, McAllister only smiled.
"But, as I later found out, Elliot here is so much more than a perfect test subject." He looked meaningfully at her. "He's also a man with a lot of enemies. A lot of wealthy enemies, all willing to pay for a piece of him. All willing to make me wealthy, simply by acting as a middle man. And so my little side business was born."
Her breath hitched in her throat. "Your side business—?" She searched him desperately, angrily. "What did you do to my partner?" Her emotions were taking hold of her, much as she tried to stay in charge of them. The pain was demanding her attention.
He stayed silent, but for a glance at the door. "Tell me," she grated out. Hands flexing at her sides, eyes burning into him. "Tell me what you did to him!" She heard herself shout. For all of her efforts at maintaining her calm, she was failing. But she couldn't breathe, not knowing what this man had done to her partner of 12 years.
"Oh," he said, licking his lips with the hint of a sly smile. "I didn't do anything to him. Not much, anyways. I'm afraid my research is confidential. But my customers, on the other hand…"
Olivia thought she was going to kill him. She had only felt rage like this once before in her life, and it had nearly destroyed her. She tried to get herself under control, but McAllister pressed on, enjoying every moment that he used against her.
"$5,000 for an hour alone with him," he said with a smile like a fox. "$10,000 for an organ, $500 for a scar of their choice...People got very creative." His smile soured. "But most of them just wanted him dead."
She was looking at Elliot. Thinking of everything that this monster had done to him, and knowing beyond a doubt that she couldn't allow him to come near him ever again. The fury that boiled in her blood seemed vague and distant under the frozen, lethal hatred that had sharpened her mind to a razor's edge. This man was toying with her, she realized. Playing on her emotions to buy time; but why? What was he waiting for? His exit out, she realized. Someone was going to come through that door and save him, he was counting on it.
"Why do you hate Elliot so much?" She blurted. "You're throwing everything away just to end him."
He blinked at her. "My dear Olivia, this has nothing to do with hate. I'm merely a businessman."
And a sadist, she was tempted to say.
"I don't believe you," she said instead. "Somebody put Elliot in your hospital in the first place, and I'm betting it was you. You wanted him here, under your care. You knew who he was from the beginning."
There was a flicker of something in his eyes, then. A moment later he had changed topics, raising his voice just a little. "I'm sorry to bring your affair to an end, Sergeant Benson. But Elliot's life is already over, bought and paid for. Much like my plane ticket."
She blinked, shocked.
"Oh, don't look so surprised," he loudly. "No one really believes you two were never...Intimate."
"But we weren't," Olivia argued. She couldn't imagine why it felt so important to argue that point now, but she had spent half her life trying to avoid looking at Elliot the wrong way, and she just couldn't leave it alone. "Why does everyone always assume that neither of us had any self-control or respect for the other? It would have been the end of our partnership, the end of his family. Both of us were adults. We always knew what really mattered."
"I can't say I buy that, Olivia." She spun around, heart hammering. No. She had seen her less than a week ago, but could hardly believe her eyes. It was Kathy. A little older, wearing more expensive clothes and pearls, but undeniably the woman her partner had been married to for 25 years. She couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that this woman who had mothered Elliot's children could possibly know this man. But she continued on.
"When Elliot told me he was leaving me for you…" She smiled. "Well, I just stopped buying all that nobility crap."
The venom in her voice was shocking. "Kathy," she said, hurt. "I've never done anything inappropriate with Elliot." This is absurd. "And he didn't leave you for me, he just left." She stared at her for a moment. "I can't believe you could—He's your husband," she finished weakly.
"No," she said. Her blue eyes were made of ice and fire. "Dr. McAllister is my husband." She watched the doctor look at her, saw the possessive joy and fiery obsession in his gaze. "Elliot is my ex—my dead ex." She said meaningfully. "Let's get out of here, John."
She remembered how surprised Kathy had seemed when she showed up at her doorstep just days ago. How she had thought Elliot was already dead. "You put in his papers," Olivia realized, moving to block them. "You hired Mario Gonzales. You sent me the badge. And then you got rich off of his suffering. What the hell is wrong with you?" There was still a gun pointed at her, but she couldn't see it anymore, advancing towards the woman who had betrayed the man she had spent half her life loving. "I understand being hurt, but how can condone torture? How can you live with yourself and his sick experiments, knowing that the money that buys your pearls is coming from criminals who mutilated him?" Fury was turning her vision red, but she genuinely didn't understand. This was not the woman she knew.
Kathy blinked at her, and her eyes flickered to McAllister. She didn't know. She hadn't even heard him earlier; all the last things he said had been for her benefit.
"McAllister tortured him," Olivia urged, voice tumbling out in a rush. "He advertised to criminals for time alone with him. He sold them Elliot's organs. He kept him in a coma and used him like a lab rat, and he's about to murder him. I know you can't be okay with that. I know he hurt you, but you were married for 25 years, you had five kids together, doesn't that count for anything? Doesn't his life mean anything at all to you?"
"Kathy," McAllister interjected, eyes hardening over a flicker of fear. "She's a liar. Don't listen to her."
But, as much as Kathy loathed her, she had a hard time seeing Olivia as a liar. She had simply known her for too long, and hesitation stole for a moment across her face. But then she shook her head. "No. No, you two slept together. When I met John, he told me he was going to make everything better, and he did."
"What about Eli?" She asked. "Are you going to take him with you and this murderer? He's Elliot's son, too." There was a flicker of something like guilt on Kathy's face, and she knew it wasn't true. The fury that flamed inside her was quickly dampened. "Kathy," she said, then. "It doesn't matter what the past is. Walk out of here, now, with McAllister. Leave for wherever you're going and forget about what happened here. I'll take care of everything." Her voice was earnest. She really wanted that, would have happily accepted losing McAllister and Kathy if it just meant she could keep Elliot safe. "You don't have to do this."
"Don't listen to her," McAllister growled. "She wants to keep Elliot forever and lock us away. She's always hated you, been jealous of you. You know what will happen to us if we don't finish the job." Olivia watched Kathy shrink, saw how his words affected her, and suddenly it became clear how much he was controlling her. If there was anything that Olivia knew how to spot, it was an abusive, controlling relationship. And then something occurred to her.
"Kathy. You couldn't have hired Gonzales. Elliot left you on the same day he was attacked."
She flinched. "How do you know?"
McAllister shot an angry look at her. "Everybody shut up. We're running out of time—"
But Olivia wouldn't stop, her mind picking up steam as the idea took hold, the ideas that seemed like a stretch finally clicking into place in her head. "Kathy," She interjected urgently. "I know you're not okay with murder. I know you didn't attack Elliot, you couldn't have had time to plan it. The dates don't make sense. McAllister did everything. And he did it to get to you." It was the only thing that made sense. "He hired Mario Gonzales, he brought him to a dumpster a block away so he could be sure he would be brought to this hospital, and he made the 911 call when he was on duty. He treated Elliot and kept him in a coma for four years. And when you came in, he finally had what he wanted. Don't you see? He stalked us, but we were just pawns. None of this was about us. You were the real target." She turned to the doctor. "We're all just pieces of his plan. The bastard even wrote a notebook pretending to be my abductor. How do you feel about that?" Whatever Kathy was, it wasn't innocent, but Olivia didn't believe for a moment that she was truly capable of this kind of evil.
"Actually," McAllister said with a smile. "Kathy wrote that. Found the court documents and everything. She's a much better writer than I am."
The knowledge was a slap in the face, for both her and Kathy. "It doesn't matter," she insisted, recovering herself. It didn't change anything. "Kathy—We've known each other for years. This whole thing, everything McAllister's done, it's been about you. He's obsessed with you. It's all been about you, and now he wants to finish it. He wants to kill us. What are you going to do?"
Elliot's ex wife turned to McAllister, hesitation writing lines across her face. But the man's face was hard. He wasn't even trying to apologize or explain himself. She couldn't seem to find the words.
In that instant, both of them saw the change of heart in Kathy Stabler. Saw the long-ignored pieces that clicked into place, saw the pain that tore across her face as her trust in this man shattered irrevocably. Olivia knew that McAllister saw it, too. She saw him tense, and didn't wait an instant before launching herself at him in desperation, managing to tear the syringe out of his hands before he could push the poison in, and then pain exploded in her stomach. She heard a scream, rushing feet, and the warm sticky feeling that she thought could only be blood. In her head she was screaming. Screaming for Elliot, the love she had never told. Screaming for Noah, the son she loved more than her own life. And, finally, screaming for herself. For the life that she could feel slipping away from her with every beat of her heart.
A/N: Two chapters left.