What You Wish For
Chapter 13
Welcome to angstville! I apologise, but this story had to get darker before it got lighter. And darker it got. Warnings for graphic injuries. I did a bit of research for Liv's injuries but I have taken some liberties, so any medical people I apologise for inaccuracies. I hope you enjoy and if you do, please drop me a review!
I own nothing!
Fluorescent lighting was Elliot Stabler's most hated thing in the world. The buzzing. The glaring light. The way it made his skin twitch and his eyes itch and his head ache. He hated everything there was to possibly hate about the lighting surrounding him in the waiting area of the hospital.
It had been hours. Hours since the surgeon had come to update them on Olivia. Hours since Fin had left. Hours since his life had held any semblance of normality. The cold, plastic seat was uncomfortable and unforgiving. Maybe that was his most hated thing in the world. That damn seat. He had resigned himself to sitting in it after Cragen had all but forced him to quit pacing the small room. The older man was sat beside him; staring aimlessly into space and Elliot knew they were each as worried as the other. He knew that Don saw Olivia as a daughter he'd never had. The other man was hurting just as much as he was and yet Elliot couldn't focus on anything other than his own anger and hurt at the situation.
Damnit how long until someone told them what was happening. Waiting. Waiting was definitely his most hated thing in the world.
He could feel his knee jiggling. Would Liv be ok? The list of injuries the doctor had spouted off sounded serious. She'd lost her baby. Olivia had been pregnant. God, why did that make him even angrier at the situation? He hated to admit that he didn't know if it was the fact that Olivia had been pregnant and lost the baby, or the fact that she had been pregnant to Fin that made him mad. He felt like the worst human being alive to even be thinking like that when the woman he loved was lying on a surgery table possibly dying. What kind of jerk was he?
Cragen hadn't said a thing about the baby. Elliot didn't know how to take that. The Captain had given Elliot a strange look before collapsing into his chair and he'd hardly moved since. Elliot couldn't help the sneaking suspicion that Don thought the baby was his. He hadn't tried to refute it. It wasn't his place to out Liv's relationship with Fin, and his head wasn't in the right space for that kind of conversation anyway.
Sighing, he put his hand on his knee to stop it jiggling.
"Let's get that sorted out, shall we?"
Elliot's head shot up. A young male nurse was standing in the entry way of the waiting room. Cragen also looked up questioningly.
"Your leg?" the nurse prompted.
Looking down Elliot saw the splatter blood surrounding his foot. His pants were soaked with it and stuck to his skin. He'd forgotten, in all the hubbub, that something had hit his leg when Liv was shot.
"Can you walk?" The nurse must think he was some kind of idiot, and judging by the look he was giving the two men he obviously was wondering if he should call security.
"Yeah, I can walk." Elliot finally managed. "But I want to be here when they let us know about Liv." He looked towards the Captain almost desperately.
"It won't take long to sort you out." The nurse offered. "You can't sit there bleeding everywhere."
"Go, Elliot." Cragen told him firmly.
"But Cap…"
"I'll come and get you if there's any news." Cragen's face was set with grim determination and Elliot knew there was no point in arguing.
"We will be just around the corner," the nurse told Don.
Climbing to his feet Elliot finally noticed the burning pain in his leg. He must have drowned it out with adrenaline. He followed stiffly behind the nurse, feeling the way his pant leg was sticking to his skin and cringed. He entered the small consultation room.
"Remove your pants and hop up on the bed there," the nurse instructed. Doing as he was told, Elliot allowed his ruined pants to fall in a heap on the floor before climbing up.
"My name's Michael, by the way." The nurse introduced himself.
"Elliot."
"Well, Elliot, let's see what we are dealing with, shall we?" Snapping on some gloves Michael pulled the wheelie stool over to the side of the bed and took a closer look at Elliot's leg. "Looks like a clean graze to the calf. You'll need stitches but it's only a surface wound. You're lucky. Could have torn your calf."
Elliot simply nodded, wondering how long this would take. His eyes followed Michael as he gathered the sutures. He cleaned the area thoroughly, including mopping up some of the blood that had dried on Elliot's leg. Then he set about sewing the wound closed. Elliot grit his teeth but didn't complain. His pain was nothing compared to what Olivia must be going through.
"There you go," Michael smiled, finishing the last stitch. "Good as new. Now, you'll have to keep the wound clean. I'll sort out some other clothes for you. I'll put a waterproof bandage over it so it stays dry." He moved over to the cabinet and pulled out the wrap. "I'll check you over for other injuries. The blood on your legs is most likely from this wound but I think you might have been hit elsewhere to have this much blood everywhere else." He indicated to Elliot's face, arms, and chest.
"My partner," Elliot tried to say, his voice catching in his throat.
"Pardon?" Michael asked, turning to reach for cleaning wipes.
"It's my partner's blood. She's in surgery at the moment."
"Ah, ok. Well, I'm going to check you over just in case." Michael turned back to Elliot. "Take off your shirt."
"Can we leave it? I want to get back out there in case they call us in." Elliot could feel his body tensing with anxiety at the thought of not being there for Liv when she came out of surgery.
"This won't take long, Elliot. You need to be looked over." Michael noted Elliot's obvious displeasure and continued quickly. "Tell you what – once I'm finished here with you I'll go and see what I can find out about your partner. How does that sound?"
"Yeah, ok," Elliot conceded. In all honesty he knew there was nothing he could do until the hospital was ready to talk to he and Cragen. He could rage and carry on as much as he wanted and all that would result in would be Cragen sending him home.
"Alrighty. Off with your shirt and let's see if any of this blood belongs to you."
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The blood hadn't been his, which Elliot knew. But Michael had been thorough, cataloguing Elliot's injuries; including the black eye that was now forming, courtesy of Fin. Had the situation been different, Elliot would have realised that Michael was taking meticulous notes as this may all become evidence in a trial. But his mind was stuck on an endless loop of worry and panic about Olivia.
The sweat shirt and pants were an improvement on his blood stained clothes and he allowed himself to feel slightly better at being clean of the blood. He had re-joined Cragen who, it turned out, was just as reluctant to make small talk as Elliot was.
Six hours and forty-seven minutes after he had arrived in the back of the ambulance with a bleeding and dying Liv beside him the surgeon came out to tell them Liv was out of surgery.
"She's stable but we are monitoring her closely. The surgery was touch and go – she crashed twice on the table, but we have managed to stabilise her for the time being. The specialist was able to reattach her calf ligaments so her leg won't be permanently damaged. She will still require ongoing treatment and physiotherapy for the wound but I see no reason as to why she won't make a full recovery."
Elliot collapsed into his chair. She was alive. Liv was alive. He felt like he could breathe for the first time in hours.
"Detective Benson is still on a respirator. The abdominal wound was extensive with massive internal trauma. We were able to cauterise and stem the blood flow. Internal bleeding is still a risk and she is attached to several drains. These are also to minimise fluid build-up and swelling around the wound. The bullet was located and removed. Sadly, the damage was too extensive for the foetus to survive." The surgeon paused, looking at the ashen faces of the two men.
"How far was she?" Elliot heard Don asking.
"About 6 weeks." The surgeon said gently. Don nodded sombrely.
"I want to prepare you for what you will see when you go into see her."
"We can see her?" Elliot asked, eagerly.
"You will be able to soon. But be aware that Detective Benson is in a medically induced coma. Her body has experienced a significant trauma and we aren't going to bring her out of the coma for at least 24 hours to allow her body time to begin to recover. She is attached to several machines, and be warned that the wound is still partially open to allow for the drainage tubes. It is covered with sterile wraps but if you have questions regarding what you see please ask. The wound is also packed in ice to reduce the swelling. Because of the location and extensive nature of the injury the wound is at risk of further aspiration. Detective Benson has already had to have drainage applied to her right lung as this was compromised upon her arrival at the hospital."
It was too much for Elliot's brain to take in. He felt like crying. He felt like punching something. The words the doctor was saying, the injuries he was describing, were not something Elliot could associate with Liv. He couldn't imagine her being in a situation where those things needed to be associated with her unless it was in regards to a victim. Not her being the victim.
"If you're ready I will give you these and you can follow me." The surgeon held out two face masks. Both men reached for them with shaking hands and put them on. They were led through the swinging doors that had cruelly kept Elliot away from Olivia all those hours ago. They followed along the hallway and into the ICU. Finally, the surgeon stopped them outside a private room.
"As I mentioned before, Detective Benson is in a semi-stable condition and is unconscious. I can allow you to visit with her only briefly. Please be very careful of her wound and be aware that if she codes we will need you to vacate the room immediately."
Some days Elliot hated his job. This was one of those days. Being a cop meant that medical professionals usually told them it as it was. They didn't sugar coat. This was one of those times and Elliot half wished the doctor would treat them as he would family members. But he knew that if he was family he would never have been allowed to see her yet, and for that he was grateful.
They entered the room and Elliot's eyes immediately fell on the body on the bed. It took him a moment to realise it was Liv. Her face was swollen, almost bloated. The doctor must have noted the expression on his face. They'd been warned this would be a shock, but still.
"The swelling is a reaction to the anaesthetic and the trauma. It should reduce itself in a day or so." He offered, giving both men a sympathetic smile.
Elliot took a cautious step forwards; his eyes roaming over Liv's broken body. She was half covered by a gown. He could see the padding and ice around her stomach and knew this was where she had been hit. A tube poked out from under the bandage and ice and disappeared over the side of the bed. Elliot swallowed hard. Her leg was uncovered and raised and he could see the bandages wrapped around it. That wound was the least of her worries. Elliot felt anger swelling for her.
"Can I touch her?" He asked, his voice tight.
"Just her hand." The doctor conceded. Elliot nodded tersely and moved to her side. His hand trembled as it reached for hers. Gently he took it, trying to ignore her blood stained fingers, and desperately trying to forget how she had pulled away the last time he had tried to take her hand. God, this was all his fault.
He felt Cragen come up beside him.
"You hang in there, Liv," the older man said quietly. Elliot squeezed his eyes shut against the prick of tears. His thumb caressed the back of Olivia's hand, gently avoiding the IV there.
Hang in there, Liv, he thought to himself. He couldn't comprehend life without her. He didn't want to think what it would mean if she didn't hang in there. He didn't know how he could continue on. He needed her like he needed oxygen. He needed her to balance him. He needed his best friend. And he hated himself for wasting so much time realising it. What he wouldn't give to turn back the clock.
His eyes returned to her face and he took in her injuries. His blood boiled as he thought about what she had been through and what she was going to have to deal with when she woke up. He was going to kill the bastards that did this to her. He drew in a shuddering breath and fought not to squeeze her hand; not wanting to cause her any more pain.
It was when he felt Cragen's hand gently rest on his shoulder that he allowed the tears to fall.
*hides in corner* I'm sorry! I know it's sad! But it will get better. Hopefully. Assuming Liv survives and all. Let me know what you thought! I love you all for your reviews and for reading! Thank you so much! They make my day!