Part Thirty-Two

Olivia spent the better part of two hours bringing Fin up to speed on the first case that had really and truly scared her. She tried to make it factual, filling in a bit between the lines of the official documentation, while leaving a lot of it out. The case itself, without her personal involvement, had been horrific enough to disturb Fin. White's cold, methodical behavior, his twisted indifference, his complete disregard for the value of a human life – they weren't things that Fin could easily understand. It was part of the reason why he was able to work so well in Special Victims. It was part of why the four primary detectives and their captain had wound up together in that unit. Because they cared about people, the well-being of strangers, the soothing of wounds that would never heal.

Plus there was the added angle of how they'd first heard of Richard White – through the torture, rape and murder of Karen Fitzgerald, the young ADA who'd had the audacity to prosecute him for date rape. ADA's weren't cops, but they were close enough that cops took their murder personally.

She doled out the rest as well, the chilling murder scene at Louise Billing's apartment, which served as fair warning to anyone else who might dare accuse White of something like rape. She explained Kimberly Phillips as well, telling about the nervous way the woman had revealed the start of her partnership with White, how her tongue had only loosened about the details when Elliot and Olivia had threatened to call the IRS on her.

Fin shook his head, a smile not quite hidden behind his hand.

Olivia turned her attention to him, wanting to know what he found so funny in the midst of a gruesome tale. "If something about this is amusing you, Fin,-"

He shook his head again, letting her see the smile he'd been trying to hide. "Nah, Liv, I'm good. I was just thinking how you two bicker like an old married couple." He chuckled to himself when he found no understanding in her face. "You guys were partners ten years ago. No wonder you get on each other's nerves."

Olivia knew she ought to take the chance and run with it, knowing the odds were slim that he was suddenly passive-aggressive and implying that he knew what had happened at the cabin. Still, the guilty paranoia refused to let her drop it. "You and Munch have been partners for nine years." She glared at him, continuing before he could argue. "And you bicker like an old married couple sometimes too. I don't accuse you of sleeping together."

Fin sat back with a laugh, holding his hands up in surrender. "Ok, ok, please, that's enough. First off, I don't accuse you of sleeping together and second," he paused to leer at her in a comical fashion, "baby, Munch has nothing on you."

Her cheeks were flaming red, more from the fear that she'd accidentally told Fin more than he needed to know with her behavior than from his comment. Still, she averted her eyes and pretended that his teasing embarrassed her.

His reaction was exactly how she'd expected, his sigh revealing disappointment, his hand tapping gently on her shoulder. "Liv, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

She cut him off with her hand, unable to listen to him bumble through an apology she didn't need to hear. "Don't, it's ok. I've just had a rough day, you know?"

He looked at her curiously, his brow furrowing. "Bad week too, right? Cause, seriously, my partner kidnapped me, I'd be all kinds of pissed off."

Just the mention of the time she'd spent with Elliot brought a smile to her face, despite all her attempts to keep the events from coming under public scrutiny. Knowing she was grinning and blushing and completely unable to stop, she shrugged at Fin. "Well, you have to admit Munch doesn't have those pretty blue eyes of Elliot's."

Fin stared at her, his eyes searching for something she really hoped he didn't find. Finally he shrugged and turned his attention back to the case file, letting Olivia continue with any information that wasn't already in there. It didn't take him nearly as long to tell her everything that had happened while she was gone. Not that much had happened, at least not that was particularly useful.

The day she didn't turn up at work and wasn't answering her phone, Cragen sent Munch and Fin to find her. Kimberly's body was discovered, the techs and the coroner's office were called in, and while they were preoccupied with checking up on Elliot's whereabouts and trying to determine just whose body they'd found, Cragen had called them back to the office. Fin said they'd simply been instructed to start searching old cases for recent prison releases, the more violent, the more personal, the better.

Fin shrugged at her, clearly uncomfortable with the idea that something was being kept from him. "Dad never said why Elliot wasn't a suspect anymore."

Olivia wondered what it was that had changed his mind; Cragen had been more convinced than she'd been when they'd last spoken. Her eyes left her desk, searching for her boss through the open blinds of his office. He was there, as usual, except rather than his typically cool, collected presence, the older man was pacing the length of his office, his red face and pinched expression aimed at the phone on his desk, his hurried, exaggerated movements making him seem liked a caged tiger, liable to strike at the first opportunity. She could hear his raised voice, somewhat muffled by the closed door, recognizing that harsh, furious tone, and was thankful that it wasn't aimed at her or her partner for once.

No, for once, Cragen was mad for them. Acting in every way like the father figure they often joked he tried to be to the group of detectives whose only common trait was the lack of a supportive male role model. But rather than proud that she'd inspired such loyalty not only from her partner but from her boss as well, Olivia only felt worse. Because she could easily recall all the many times she'd let him down. Because she could easily recall all the many instances she'd gone against his advice. Because she could easily recall all the many ways her relationship with her partner had strayed beyond anything she could hope to explain to the man.

With her eyes locked on her boss, waiting for him to somehow know of her improprieties the same as he appeared to have simply known that Elliot wasn't guilty of stalking her, she angled her head toward Fin. "He didn't even give you a clue why El wasn't a suspect anymore?"

Fin shook his head, distracted from her by the buzzing of his phone. He stood up, motioning at her that he'd be back, lifting the phone to his ear. True to his word, he was back in the chair not quite a minute later. "Munch just wanted to let us know he's on his way back." He held up his hand with a laugh before Olivia could jump on him for information on her partner. "He's fine, Liv. They'll be back in twenty minutes."

Olivia's heart was racing, from fear and excitement and nervous energy. She and Elliot had hardly left things in a good place. Elliot was certainly still in trouble for violating the restraining order, even though it and the charges would be erased in the morning. And she was plagued with the fear that between Cragen, Munch, and Fin, one of the highly observant bunch would recognize some miniscule change in the dynamic between her and her partner. She tried to distract herself, from both the overwhelming fear that her personal life was about to be known by all and the terror that White was loose and coming after her. Slapping the old case file closed, she reached for her computer, searching for Kimberly's relatives.

Fin collected both files and rolled Munch's chair back into place before returning to his desk. "When Munch gets back, we'll notify next of kin." He glanced back over his shoulder, checking to be sure Cragen was still wrapped up in his call. "Tell Cragen when he gets off, ok?"

She shook her head, copying down the name and address of Kimberly's mother, Rosalyn Phillips. "I'll take the notification with you. Munch can stay here."

Fin's laugh was loud and hard, exactly not the sort induced by humor. "Are you out of your mind? Neither of you are going anywhere." He walked over to snag the paper with the address out of Olivia's hand. "Like Cragen's ever letting you out of his sight again."

Swallowing hard, she realized the utter accuracy of his words. She'd been better off at the cabin in more ways than one. Being up there made her physically safe, but it worked mentally too. As long as she was in such a strange environment, her situation hadn't been far from her mind. However, the familiarity of the bullpen, of her friends and her job, bred a sense of normalcy, a feeling of safety. Something that could soothe her guard down only to bite her in the ass. She needed to remember that she was far from safe until Richard White was back behind bars.

Instead of arguing as she would have done under any other circumstances, she sat quietly, silently, watching Cragen's pacing as though she were hypnotized. In fact, she practically was, because when an odd silence descended on the room, she only vaguely noticed. A pair of bodies crossed through her line of sight, though, and that upset her focus, causing her to look up.

There was Munch, standing in front of Cragen's door, his hand paused halfway to the doorknob as he tried to determine if it was safe to interrupt.

Again, she barely noticed.

Because her eyes immediately fell to Munch's left, on the far more intimately familiar body of her partner. Everyone had said he'd be fine. Fin had said they were returning. But she hadn't really believed it, had brushed it aside as attempts to comfort her that were meaningless and not at all grounded in honesty.

But there he was, standing in front of her, a small red line crossed by a couple of butterfly bandages on his cheek the only evidence of how he'd been pounded down by her so-called friends. There was more damage, she was sure of it, but she couldn't see it, wouldn't see it, not until he felt like letting her see it, which she knew wouldn't be soon because she remembered all too well that he hadn't exactly been speaking to her when he'd dragged her there kicking and screaming.

She didn't care, though, because it didn't matter, not in the greater scheme of things. All she cared about was that he was there and alive and safe and close enough to touch. She had no recollection of getting up, nor of crossing the floor. It seemed that she was sitting there at her desk staring at him one moment, in his arms the next.

It had been too long, too long away from his arms, too long away from him period. Her arms wrapped around his torso, grabbing him fiercely, tugging him toward her, gripping him tightly. She didn't care that people were staring. She didn't care that whispers were already starting. She didn't care that she was afraid of people knowing what had happened between them.

Truth be told, the only real feeling of safety she had was when she was with her partner. A building full of cops had nothing on him.

And there was nothing, nothing at all, like the peace of mind she found when she felt his arms encircle her. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and squeezed him tight. He squeezed her back for a moment, one of his hands pressing between her shoulder blades, the other cupping her head.

He wasn't too worried about the rumors either, she knew, because he was addressing her first, talking to her, comforting her, before he made any attempts to explain anything to anyone looking. His face ducked down, his voice soft and gentle and warm. "Shhh, Liv, it's ok." His head lifted, his shoulders shifting in a shrug, his voice louder, aimed at whoever, namely everyone in the room, was looking. "Did she develop amnesia while I was gone?"

Munch and Fin gave the snickered answer he was searching for; Cragen's raised bark sending nearly everyone running for something that looked like work. But Olivia didn't let go, instead growing more afraid with every second that someone was going to take Elliot away from her, possibly forever. And with that gnawing fear, her arms pulled him tighter, refusing to give him up without a fight.

A sharp hiss of pain accompanied his next words. "Damn, Liv, the ribs, watch the ribs."

There was another hand on her back, one that was clearly not Elliot's, patting her twice. Then Munch's voice, trying to interject rational thought into her possessive panic. "Your partner lucked out with only bruised ribs this time, although I doubt he'll continue to be so lucky if you don't let him breathe."

And then Elliot's arms retreated, leaving her cold and scared, his hands finding her shoulders, pushing her away. "Bruised and broken feels the same to me." A harder push, no more reassuring words. "Somebody needs to get Huang in here for a seminar on treating Stockholm Syndrome."

The sarcastic edge to his words, mirrored in the cold tone, got the message through to her. The last thing she wanted to do was let him go, but he was brushing her off, poking fun at her desperation. She wanted to smack him again, remind him how desperate he'd been when he'd been terrified and shaking from his nightmares, nightmares he'd only imagined.

Her nightmares were real.

Sniffling, trying to pretend she wasn't moved to tears simply from seeing her partner again, she dropped her arms and took a step back. Her eyes moved to his, looking for something, some confirmation that he remembered what they'd found, what they'd done at the cabin. The fear in his eyes was almost palpable, sending a cold shiver through her.

His voice was soft, directed at her again, as though everyone else had disappeared once more. "Did Fin tell you?"

Fin had told her a lot and it took her a moment to guess which piece of it Elliot meant in particular. She nodded. "About Kimberly."

He nodded back, his eyes intense, his worry sharpening his stare into a weapon that he might use to defend her. "How did he get out?"

Cragen's voice joined in, probably because he was the only one with the answer. "I'll get to that. But first, there's a little matter I'd like cleared up." He nodded toward the hallway, at another pair of bodies that had materialized out of thin air for all Olivia had been paying attention. "Let's all head into my office."

Cragen led the way, followed by a wide-eyed, scared looking Dickie, who was accompanied by a rather pissed off Kathy. As she passed the pair of them, her icy glare fell on Olivia.

"I guess you patched things up." Kathy's voice was so soft, her words so sudden and unexpected, that Olivia could have sworn she might have imagined the whole thing.

Confused, but curious, Elliot followed them, leaving Olivia, who was completely baffled and nearly seized with paranoia that somehow everyone knew everything, to bring up the rear. She slid into the cramped room and pushed the door shut behind her, thinking that if Elliot's soon-to-be ex-wife and son were about to accuse her of destroying their happy home she wanted to shrink the audience as much as she could. Her hand was shaking as she pulled it from the knob. Anxious that anyone might notice, she folded her hands behind her, leaning on the wall next to Elliot.

He shifted slightly as Cragen started talking, a tiny movement as he crossed one ankle over the other in a facade of calm. At least, she knew that was what it would look like if anyone happened to look. But the shift brought his arm within a hair's breadth of hers, offering her the only comfort he could at the moment.

Thankful for the gesture, she glanced at him, answering the slight quirk of his lips with a hint of a smile of her own.

And then her attention focused on Dickie, the teenager growing more and more nervous as the awkward silence stretched on. Finally, with a glance first at his mom, whose anger mercifully seemed to have faded, and then at Cragen, whose anger wasn't going anywhere, the boy's eyes darted up to his father's for a brief second before locking on the ground again.

"I'm really sorry, dad." His voice was so quiet it barely came out. He cleared his throat and spoke up a bit, still making the adults strain to hear his words. "I didn't know you'd get in trouble." He looked at his father again, his body almost imperceptibly shifting closer to his mother. "I didn't want to tell the truth cause I knew you'd be pissed as hell."

Olivia felt Elliot's body tense, and she knew he was fighting every instinct he had not to correct his son's language. Perhaps because he hadn't quite grasped what the boy was saying. But Olivia was putting the pieces together, understanding that whatever Dickie had to say was the same thing that made Cragen suspect there was more to the case than Elliot having gone crazy.

The realization made her tense as well, knowing whatever she was about to hear would feel like as much of a slap in the face as it would to Elliot.