What You Wish For

Chapter 16

Hey all! Thanks so much for sticking with this story! I know it's a rollercoaster of angst and emotions. And look, I'm not going to lie, there's more to come! Please read and review! Your words of encouragement mean the world and really help me be motivated to keep on writing! I'd love to hear what you think!

We left off with Elliot finally getting to see Liv, Kathy crashing the party and making some pretty big assumptions, and all kinds of hectic for poor Olivia. What's happening with her case and the person who shot her? And what about poor Fin? How's he taking this whole situation? Here we go…

I don't own anything!

Donald Cragen pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned as he glanced over the abundance of paperwork on his desk. They were getting nowhere with Olivia's case and IAB was already breathing down his neck to close it. The media was hassling him to make a public statement and the story was hot news. Cop shot in front of station was on everyone's lips. It was never good when it was one of their own but the fact that it was Liv, that she had lost a baby, made it that much worse.

There were days when Don didn't know if he could keep doing this job. Today was one of them.

What made the case so frustrating was that the shooting appeared to be completely random. There were no obvious leads. CSU were canvasing the area, pulling the building's surveillance tapes as well as those around the area. They were appealing for witnesses. Ballistics had retrieved the shots that were fired, including the ones that the surgeons had removed from Olivia. But at this stage there seemed to be no obvious links. That Olivia, Fin or Elliot could have been one of the intended targets wasn't unheard of, and there were certainly enough people out there who would like to take a shot at any of the three, but why then? Why at that time of day, when there were so many witnesses around? Why outside the station where they risked being caught?

It didn't make sense.

Don knew that he was going in circles. He knew that his judgement was clouded by his concern for Olivia. She was like a daughter to him and he couldn't help his worry. When he'd left the hospital in the early hours of the morning she had been in a critical but semi stable position. The surgeon had given him a rundown of her status and the what was being done to stabilise her. They had hope that she would regain consciousness in the next few days; when her body had been able to deal with the trauma it had been through. The surgeon had reiterated that recovery would be lengthy: not only would she required physiotherapy to repair the damage to her leg, but there was significant internal damage caused by the bullet that had pierced her abdomen. In addition to losing the foetus she had been carrying, it was highly unlikely that Olivia would be able to conceive again. The damage had been significant and the surgeon had mentioned that while they had managed to avoid a hysterectomy there were complications with bleeding and that option wasn't fully off the table. Even if further surgery wasn't needed, Olivia's womb was significantly damaged and the scar tissue, and weakened muscle would make conceiving, or carrying to term near impossible.

Don's heart ached at the thought. He knew that Olivia wanted to be a mother. While it wasn't something she publicly spoke about, or wanted the men she worked with to speculate on, it was clear that she was a natural with kids and would, one day, want one of her own. Don didn't know how she would take the news that this may no longer be a possibility for her.

His thoughts continued their dark path and he rubbed his temples. The parentage of the child she had lost hadn't escaped him, and he knew that there were tough conversations to come. If Elliot was the father, as he suspected he was, IAB was going to have a field day. As if there weren't enough issues with the two detectives being too close to now add in an inappropriate relationship to boot. Judging by Elliot's behaviour in the hospital the night before, it was clear that the man wasn't taking the loss, or Olivia's condition, well. Cragen hadn't been comfortable leaving him in the chair in the waiting room after his outburst. He knew that the medication would help, but it was difficult for him to see one of his best detectives so completely out of control. He was already dealing with the paperwork for the scuffle that Fin and Elliot had been engaged in, and was seriously considering writing the two up out of sheer frustration. If he didn't need all hands on deck, he would have suspended the two. Not that he was expecting Elliot in any time soon.

No, Don Cragen was not in the best mood and was at a complete loss as to how to maintain a calm and professional manner about the whole situation. All he wanted to do was have a glass of the strongest, most expensive whiskey he could find and try to numb some of the pain; something he knew he couldn't do.

There was a knock at his office door and he looked up to see a sombre John Munch watching him.

"Any luck with those tapes, John?" He asked. John gave a slight shake of his head and entered the office.

"CSU are still retrieving tapes from the bodega across the road, and two of the surrounding buildings. The offices next door weren't able to hand over any footage as their cameras have been out. We're working through the footage. But Cap, there's not much to see. So far there are no clear shots of the car, or the shooter. Most of the cameras are trained on the sidewalk. I've located the moment where Liv was shot, but can only determine the direction the bullet came from." John's voice was tired, and his haggard expression displayed the exhaustion and frustration he was feeling.

"Any luck with witnesses?"

"Nothing solid yet. Uniform are canvassing, and we've released a statement to the press calling on anyone who was in the area. Mostly, there are a lot of scared and confused people who are crying terrorism. So much for the idea that Big Brother is watching, when we can't even get a witness to such a public crime."

"Keep working on it, John. There has to be someone, something, and we need to find the perp. For Liv."

"I know, Cap. I don't think anyone here is going to be going home anytime soon. We all want to find the guy that did this." Munch threw a look over his shoulder to his partner, who was hunched, working, at his desk. "Any news from Elliot?"

''Not yet. I'm going to be heading back to the hospital soon. They said they would call if there was any change. Has Fin said anything about what went down yesterday?"

"Nothing. He's never been "chatty Cathy" but he's certainly outdoing himself on the monosyllabic answers today."

"Ok. Leave him for now. I'll talk to him later. Keep going through the video footage and let me know if something comes up."

"Will do, Cap." John turned to leave.

"John!" Cragen called, thinking of something. John turned around.

"Captain?"

"Have CSU pull the traffic cameras in the area."

John nodded, following Don's train of thought.

"Right. If I'd just shot at a bunch of cops I'd be in a pretty big hurry to get out of there."

"Exactly. See if the traffic cameras caught any cars speeding or running a red light at the time of the shooting."

John nodded and left the office. Don looked back at the pile of papers in front of him and once again sighed.

EOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO

Fin waited impatiently for the elevator doors to open. His hands flexed and clenched unconsciously and he couldn't help the tension that wracked his body. He wished the elevator would hurry up. When it finally reached the floor and the doors opened he let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Stepping off, he moved quickly to the nurse's station. It was late, the lights in the hallways dimmed, and he knew that he was going to have to pull rank to get what he came for.

Approaching the counter, he tried to muster a smile for the night nurse.

"Visiting hours are over, sir." She told him firmly. Fin sighed and pulled out his badge.

"Detective Tutuola. I'm here to see Detective Benson." His voice was hushed, and he forced himself not to choke on the words. Please don't fight me on this, he prayed.

"Oh, my apologies Detective." Just like that, she switched to sympathetic nurse and Fin felt himself relaxing slightly. "The other detective only left a short while ago. He didn't mention that someone else was going to be coming in."

"What room is she in?" Fin asked, wanting to see Olivia with his own eyes; to assure himself that she was still alive.

"Just down the hall in 203. Would you like me to show you?"

"I got it, thanks." Fin turned and quickly made his way down the hallway in the direction the nurse had pointed. He'd purposely chosen to come late in the evening, waiting until he knew that Stabler had left to go home and shower. He didn't want to see the other man, but he had to see Liv.

When he finally reached the glass door he found himself frozen in place. He could see into the room and saw Liv in the dim lights in the room. He could see the monitors, the tubes, the damage that was done to her. His throat felt tight and he felt his hands clenched tight. Taking a steadying breath, he braced himself and slowly pushed the door open.

The smell of antiseptic hit him hard and Fin had to supress the urge to vomit. He'd never been one for hospitals; hating the smell, the sounds, the sight of people torn up and bloody. It wasn't his scene and he avoided it when he could. But he wanted to be there now. He wanted to see Liv, to touch her, to be there for her.

A sound behind him startled him and Fin turned abruptly. He saw a different nurse looking at him with sympathetic eyes.

"Sorry to startle you. I'm just here to check her vitals. You can sit there if you like." She indicated to the chair beside the bed. Fin cautiously made his way over and sat stiffly, watching the nurse as she lifted Olivia's chart and made some notes. As she came around to the opposite side of the bed, she gave him a small smile. Fin couldn't muster one in return.

"You can hold her hand, if you like." She nodded towards Olivia's pale hand that lay against the stark white sheets. "They say that patients in coma's respond to touch, and can remember it when they wake up."

Fin looked at her for a moment, processing her words before he carefully, gently, reached out and took Olivia's fragile hand in his. Her usually olive skin was pasty and contrasted starkly with his darker skin. He gently caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. His eyes, not yet ready to take in Olivia's face, or the injuries on her body, followed the nurse as she completed her checks. He felt the tension in his body again, and tried to will himself to relax, to be calm, for Olivia. As she finished her checks, the nurse gave Fin one last gentle smile.

"Talk to her. She can hear you."

With that, she turned and quietly left the room. Fin watched her go, trying to find the courage to lay his eyes on Olivia. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He knew that part of it was because he was angry. Angry at the bastard that had shot her. Angry at himself for not protecting her. Angry at Stabler for…well for being Stabler. But none of that was going to help Liv.

Finally screwing his courage to the sticking place, Fin raised his eyes to Olivia's face. His eyes didn't meet her chocolate brown ones, and his heart hurt at the thought that he would give anything to be lying in bed with her, gazing into her eyes and making love to her. His gaze swept across her face, taking in the swelling, the bruising. The nurses had cleaned her up and wiped up the blood. But he hadn't been prepared for her distorted features and he could only assume that it was something to do with her injuries, or the medication she was on. He began to wish he'd asked the nurse some questions.

Continuing his appraisal of her body he took in the numerous tubes, including the one that emerged from her gown and the bile colour liquid that filled it. He guessed that the tube was connected to where she had been shot. The thought caused him to growl. He didn't know enough about these things to make guesses at to the purpose of all these tubes, and he didn't have the strength of will to go and find a nurse to ask. Instead, he continued to gently stroke his thumb across the back of Olivia's hand. Reaching out his other hand he very tenderly brushed her hair back from her face, caressing her cheek as he pulled away.

"Hey Baby Girl." He whispered. "It's me, Fin." He cringed, feeling stupid. "Hang in there, Liv," he murmured, squeezing her hand softly. He coughed slightly, clearing his throat and forcing back the wave of emotion he was feeling. His eyes darted around the room, not wanting to take in her damaged form. Eventually, he found his control and he looked on her once more.

"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl." He whispered. "I should have protected you. Should have protected our baby." His voice cracked on the word and he brought Liv's hand to his face, holding it there. His shoulders shook with tension as he tried to reign in his emotions. This wasn't how he did things. He didn't cry. He was meant to be the strong one. He kissed her hand gently, a tear squeezing out of his eye and rolling down his cheek. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to be there, to talk to her, to comfort her, when she wasn't really there at all. This was not a situation he ever thought he'd be in. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. She should be telling him she's pregnant over dinner where they can celebrate and be happy. She shouldn't be lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, hurting, damaged.

"I'm so sorry, Liv. Please be ok."

EOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOOEEOEOEOOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO

The silent figure of John Munch stood in the doorway of Olivia's hospital room; a silent witness to Fin's confession, to his pain and to his loss.