The innate stubbornness of Elliot's nature refused to process the incomprehensible words from Fin's mouth.

"What?" It was teh only word he could find to convey his utter disbelief. "What are you talking about, Fin?"

"Look I wouldn't be here if I had any other choice but Olivia is missing. No one has seen her in three days. We need your help, El."

Terror seized him, locking his breath into his lungs and refusing the ability to take a new, steadying breath. His partner, his rock, the only person he had ever been able to talk to about absolutely anything with, was missing. Guilt choked him.

"What happened?" Elliot asked, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack next to the door.

"I'll explain on the way."

EOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO

A rush of nostalgia and dread hit Elliot with a force as he walked back into the precinct for the first time in nearly half a year. He was astounded by how much nothing had changed. He felt like an entirely different person yet in his absence, the one-six had stayed entirely the same. His eyes were drawn to her desk, in the exact spot it had been when it had faced his, exactly as she had left it the last time she'd been there.

Cragen's face was waiting for him, anxious and expectant, holding onto the innate hope that Stabler held all the answers for them.

"Welcome back," he greeted.

"I would say it's good to be back but under the circumstances..." The rest of his sentence hung in the palpable tension between them.

Cragen nodded and let out a heavy sigh. "Let's go talk in my office."

"What happened?" The question was out of Elliot's mouth before they had even taken their seats.

"We don't have very much information," Cragen said sadly. "Last anyone saw her was her doorman late Sunday night when she went for a walk. By Wednesday when no one had heard from her I sent her new parter Amaro over to check on her."

Elliot was surprised by the force of emotion that shot through him at the mention of Olivia's new partner. He could only describe it as pure and unadultered jealousy.

"And?" Elliot prompted.

"When Amaro couldn't get ahold of her he did a perimiter check while TARU ran a trace on her cell. A block and a half from her apartment building Amaro found her tea thermos, saliva confirmed it was hers, and her cell was found in a flower bed further down the same street. Whoever it was that took her, they left a message."

Elliot's heartbeat quickened. "What kind of message?"

Cragen lifted the familar phone from a sealed plastic bag, found the text, and showed it to Elliot.

"Ask my partner? Why would you think this has something to do with me?" He asked defensively.

"We've been over her cases with Amaro, nothing fits. The only other partner she's ever had is you."

Stabler took a moment to breathe in all this new information. His mind was swirling with all the possibilites and he had to bite back the bile that threatened to rise from his throat when he contempted all of the terrible things that could be happening to her. He closed his eyes and tried to see clarity but all he could see was Olivia in pain.

"What is it that you think I can do?" He asked finally.

"We have Detective Rollins pulling all your and Liv's old case files that were flagged for making threats. I want you to help her and think back to anything that stands out, anyone that might have had a reason to take her."

"You're kidding me right?" Elliot burst out. "You want me to go through thirteen years worth of cases I have with Benson and go through every single god damn one that wanted a piece of us!"

"Hey!" Cragen shouted. "If you want to walk out that door right now then go ahead. You go ahead and tell us that those thirteen years meant dick to you and that you couldn't care less about what happens to Olivia. Go. Leave. If that's how you feel then we're better off here without you."

Stabler sat quietly in his chair and released the angry breath of air he was holding.

"That's what I thought," Cragen snapped.

"What do you want me to do?"

Cragen tossed a pad of paper and a pen into his lap. "Start writing."

EOEOEOEOEOEO

From somewhere above her a faint breeze of strangely warm air tickled at her skin and stirred her from the sweet release of sleep that had taken her. She felt heavy, weighed down like her body would sink right through the chair she was sitting in and onto the floor. Her eyelids blinked rapidly, begging for the release of the spell of drugs that were swirling her in a haze of confusion and pain. Olivia Benson took several deep breaths in an effort to orientate herself. Slowly she wiggled a finger and tried to raise her hand to her face where an itchy line of something once liquid had dried in a crusty trail against the side of her face. Something stopped her, a rough binding of rope wrapped in loops around her wrist tied her to the chair she was sitting it.

The surroundings spun around her in dizzying circles and threatened to make her sick. She tried the other hand, tied, as well as both of her feet. Sheer terror seized her. She was completely vulnerable and at the mercy of the person who had brought her here. She remembered nothing. Going for a walk, waking up here. No name, no face, no details about how she got here, where she was, how she planned on making it out of here alive. Hopelessness gripped her to her core.

"It's going to be okay," she whispered reassuringly to herself. "Everything is going to be okay."

Silence greeted her ears for more than a minute before a voice rang out from the corner of the dark room. One simple sentence that stole the last of hope from her body. "No it's not."