She can't believe it, but his plan actually works. Given her diminished physical capacity, he doesn't let her help him lift the bed. She offers to help, of course, knowing full well he won't let her. He gets the bed up against the wall, leaning it at an angle as she watches him from the floor, where she's slumped against the wall.
She watches him climb, dreading the moment when she'll have to get up and follow him. He's careful not to put all his weight on any one wooden slat at once, but ultimately he's able to use the bed as a ladder and climb right up and reach the window. It takes him several tries to break the window. He carefully clears the glass away and then climbs back down into the room.
"What're you doing?" she asks.
"You climb first," he tells her. "I want to be behind you, in case something happens."
"Elliot, I'm fine," she insists, lying through her chattering teeth. She's grateful he plans to spot her; she's feeling faint from the lack of food.
He pulls off his hoodie and hands it to her. "Put this on," he orders.
"Elliot, now you're in a t-shirt. And anyway, I've already got a sweatshirt and I'm the one with a fever."
"Liv, don't argue," he says sternly. "I'll be fine."
"Elliot –"
"This is how we're doing it," he growls, leaving no room for debate.
She nods and pulls the hoodie over her head and basks in his lingering scent and body heat. She's now wearing two oversized sweatshirts. At least her little bulge is completely hidden, she thinks.
He helps her stand and then takes her by the waist and starts to lead her backwards, to the opposite side of the room. "All right, since you're up, come to the sink and get some water in you first."
"Elliot –"
"Liv, don't play games," he warns. "You've got a high fever and we're about to be outside for God-knows how long so the least we're going to do is get some fluids in you."
"El, I'm not –"
"Yes and before you tell me you're not a child, which I am very aware of," he interrupts, "as long as you're at, oh, I'd say, one-oh-two, you're doing what I say."
Without further ado, he promptly switches on the faucet and monitors her as she scoops several mouthfuls with her hands before he's satisfied.
"All right, are we ready?" he asks.
"Yes," she answers, doing her best to keep her voice from quivering. The water felt good going down, but she's slightly nauseous now from it. All she wants to do is curl up on her side in a warm, clean bed, under the influence of Tylenol and Nyquil. Instead, she's about to embark on an outdoor trek in thirty degree weather on an empty stomach with a growing fetus inside her, and sporting a very serious flu.
He walks her back to the wall, where the vertical bed is waiting for them, like a very daunting obstacle course. Olivia suppresses an involuntary shiver. The broken window is already causing the cold to seep inside the room; it's obviously windy outside.
"Okay, look. I'm gonna be behind you the whole time, okay?" he instructs. "Once you get up there, you're going to have to hoist yourself out. The ground's more or less level with the window, okay, so you just need to manage to get your body out and then just lie on the ground and wait for me, okay?"
"Okay," she replies nervously.
"You can do this," he adds encouragingly, as he catches her wary expression. She is very frail-looking, he thinks.
She starts to climb the bed. Elliot made it look easier than it is; for her, it's a slow, arduous process, as she takes great pains to be careful. She's keenly aware that all it would take is one little slip and she could lose the baby. As she reaches the halfway point, she is suddenly overcome by dizziness. Whether it's from hunger or from illness, she doesn't know.
"You okay?" Elliot calls from beneath her.
She expends all her energy to close her eyes and regain her sense of balance.
"Liv?" he repeats, worriedly.
"O-okay," she calls, her voice quivering. "Just… d-dizzy."
"All right," he says coaxingly, "it's okay, I'm right behind you. I got you. Just take it one step at a time. You'll be fine."
She manages to squeeze herself through the window, crawling as best she can on her side. She lies on the frozen ground, panting and curling into herself. The effort was a lot harder than she'd anticipated and she's dizzy and exhausted. She looks around and sees that she's on an empty, barren field that seems to circumnavigate the perimeter of the prison. Beyond the field, in front of her, is a wooded area, which is separated from the field by a barbed wire fence. They are lucky: the fence is open in numerous spots; clearly her hypothesis was correct that the facility is not in use.
Elliot gets himself out and they both lie on their sides on the ground for several seconds, facing each other. Finally, he gets up on his knees and takes in their surroundings.
He thinks he detects the din of traffic in the direction of the forest ahead. "Shh…" he says, "Listen. You hear that?"
She doesn't, but she nods anyway from her position on the ground.
"Stay here," he tells her. "I'm gonna check the front side." He jogs several hundred feet to the far side of the prison, where he squints ahead of himself to the front entrance, which is separated from the main road by a giant gate-like structure. Beyond the gate, through its bars, Elliot can make out a small, one-lane road, which bisects another forest and stretches on into the horizon.
He returns to where she's lying.
"Looks like forest totally surrounds this place. The road leading up to here looks completely deserted." He points in front of them, to the forest that borders the back side of the prison. "Our best bet is to cross those woods. It sounds like there might be a freeway and hopefully some civilization on the other side."
"Okay," she says shakily. She lies on the frozen earth, not moving a muscle. She's happy to have him come up with the plan, take the lead. She trusts him fully; she'll go along with whatever he thinks is best. She's just so tired.
"Can you make it?" he asks, looking down at her warily.
"Like you said, we don't have a choice," she rasps.
She looks like she's barely hanging on and he reconsiders their options, one of which is to leave her here while he finds help. But he knows she wouldn't agree to it, and he doesn't want to do anything against her will. Besides, he's worried enough about her physical condition that he doesn't think he could tolerate not knowing how she's doing. Also, although he's confident the kidnappers are gone, he's not necessarily prepared to swear to it on her life.
And so he pulls her up, helping her to her feet, holding her securely around her upper waist. She slumps into him a little, but stays standing.
"Lean into me," he tells her. "We'll go slowly, okay?"
"O-okay."
And they head towards the forest.
x-x-x-x-x-x
On day seventeen, just as Cragen begins to fantasize for the fourth time in three days about how lovely it would be to have a shot of vodka, Fin bursts into his office in a huff. "Captain, two bodies were found in a ditch off Route 102, near Ridgewood. Shot to death. "
Cragen peers up at Fin, his face in his hands. "Ridgewood?" he inquires wearily.
"It's about thirty miles west of Albany. Its only claim to fame is that it was home to a federal penitentiary that was closed in 1997."
"And you're telling me this why?"
"Because the gun used to kill them was Olivia's."
Cragen's eyes widen. "Roger that. Get your coat on."
x-x-x-x-x-x
They've been walking for forty minutes when Olivia abruptly comes to a halt. "E-Elliot… I can't… we have to stop." She bends over and starts to cough.
He holds her up as she coughs, each hack sending tremors through her body.
As he holds her, fatigue momentarily takes over and he lets his eyes drift closed for several seconds. But his mind is not relaxed; in his head, he keeps reviewing their escape, regretting it and justifying it to himself at the same time.
When he reopens his eyes, everything has changed.
Particles of snow in front of Olivia are red.
She is coughing up blood.
"Okay," he tries to soothe, rubbing her back. But inside, he's panicked. She needs medical attention, more urgently than he anticipated. To make matters worse, it's starting to get dark outside. "It's okay…" he repeats, his heart beating furiously.
Her knees start to buckle and he catches her as she descends to the ground. He kneels next to her and she curls against him, trembling and shivering.
"This was a mistake," he moans, more to himself, as he pulls her close. What was he thinking? His partner is sick and she hasn't eaten in nearly three days and it's thirty degrees outside. They should have waited to be found.
Or, he should have left her in the cell and found help on his own.
But he didn't want to leave her alone. He was sure the kidnappers were gone, but he wasn't… completely sure. And if they came back, and she was alone….
He knows, in his heart, that it was the right decision to have her escape with him.
"We have to keep going," he tells her helplessly after several minutes. He's worried that they won't make it to the freeway before dark. He can't contemplate being in these freezing woods at night with a sick partner.
"I can't," she whimpers.
He's horrified by how weak she sounds. "We have to, Liv. Come on, I know you're strong enough."
She nods against him, too tired to vocally acquiesce.
He gently hoists her to her feet, and they keep walking.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Fin is driving like a bandit, with Cragen in the passenger seat and Munch in the back. They are heading to the prison, the only civilization within twenty miles of where the bodies were found and where the local sheriff claims there are days-old tire tracks that shouldn't be there.
"When does the M.E. think they were killed?" Cragen asks.
"Sometime Tuesday morning," Munch replies. "If Elliot or Olivia shot them and escaped, we would've heard from them by now."
"And she wouldn't have lost her weapon," Fin adds logically.
"Which means," Cragen says morosely, "if somebody else killed them and the dead guys are who we think they are and had them locked up this whole time, then Olivia's potentially been without food for…"
"Nearly three days." Munch finishes.
Silence permeates the car.
Fin accelerates.
x-x-x-x-x-x
It's eleven o'clock at night when they arrive at the penitentiary. According to Porter, the facility has not been in use since 1997, when it was closed in response to the precipitous decline in crime across the country during that time.
Sensing, Cragen suspects, that he was persona non grata, Porter has offered to man the phones from the FBI branch office in New York and then drive upstate later.
A local agent named Fredrickson meets them at the prison when they arrive. He is armed with keys and a security pass and is adamant nobody could have possibly gotten in, let alone hidden two people there for two weeks.
It takes fifteen minutes to run through the upper floors of the prison. It is clear Elliot and Olivia are not here and Cragen feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. They decide to search the lower floor, which houses the solitary confinement units as well as an electrical generator and several storage rooms.
In one of the hallways, Munch notices dry mud in the form of footprints leading to a locked room at the end of the corridor. Without waiting for Fredrickson, Cragen shoots his gun at the lock, and they all stumble into the room.
"They're not here," Munch declares, stating the obvious.
"The place is abandoned," Fin pipes up.
"Are we sure this is where they were being held?" Cragen asks.
"I think it's rather obvious, Captain," Munch says, pointing at the bed that is vertical with the wall and the small pile of broken glass on the floor. "They escaped."
"The town's twenty miles away," Fin points out.
"Which means," Cragen says, his voice gravelly, "we've got a pregnant woman out in the wilderness in the dark with no food in her system in thirty degree weather."
"Come on," Munch says pragmatically. "There's some snow on the ground. They must've left footprints."
x-x-x-x-x-x
It's past midnight as the team follows the footprints into the woods. The ground is only lightly dusted with snow and in some places they have to squint with their flashlights to identify the markings. Twice they take a wrong turn and have to retrace their steps. As it becomes obvious that more manpower is needed, the canine unit is called in, as are search-and-rescue helicopters. But Cragen refuses to stop searching while they wait and so for the time being, it's a slow, tedious trek. They call out to Elliot and Olivia repeatedly, but there's no answer.
An hour later several search teams are spread out across the woods, including two blood hounds, of which one is part of Cragen and his team's party. The forest is only a mile thick, but it is extremely dense and lines the interstate for dozens of miles. At this time of night the highway is quiet and Elliot and Olivia easily could have lost their sense of direction without the din of traffic to guide them. The footprints were long ago lost as the earth grew more and more frozen and less white. The search teams are visibly discouraged and Fredrickson has begun to hint that they should quit for the night and regroup in the morning. Cragen has made it clear he has no intention of abandoning the search until his detectives are found.
And so they plod on.
x-x-x-x-x-x
At nearly two o'clock in the morning, one of the dogs starts to bark and they follow its lead.
"Oh my God!" Cragen exclaims, as he and his men stumble upon a body. He shines his flashlight down and gasps as he realizes that the mass is in fact two bodies huddled together on their sides under a tree: Elliot and Olivia. The only sign of life is the slight spasming of Elliot's biceps; he is shivering uncontrollably. Cragen is shocked to see he is only in a t-shirt.
Cragen peers more closely at the pair and sees that Elliot is cradling Olivia, enveloping her nearly completely against his body. It is obvious he is trying to shield her from the elements. Cragen aims his flashlight at Olivia and his heart sinks in his throat. She is unconscious, and there is blood around her mouth.
Suddenly there is movement and Cragen sees that Elliot is awake.
Elliot slowly looks up at them, his neck turning with effort, but he is otherwise unfazed by his boss's sudden appearance and his apparent rescue. There are tears in his eyes. "Sh-she collapsed about an hour ago," he stammers. "Sh-she started coughing up blood and I-I don't… oh, Captain… she was sick, but I insisted we try to make a run for it anyway and I… oh God, if I would've realized how sick she is… It just got so bad so fast… I forced her to keep walking…"
Cragen crouches in front of his detectives and feels Olivia's neck for a pulse. He breathes a sigh of relief as he feels a weak beat. He shines his flashlight over her body. There's no other blood; it doesn't look like she's miscarried and he believes it's the first thing Elliot would have mentioned had it obviously happened, here or in prior days.
But the heat radiates off her skin and Cragen frowns; the flu is dangerous enough under normal conditions but she is pregnant and has been starved and frozen. And these are just the things he knows about. He has no idea in what other ways and how severely she's been abused.
"We've got medics back at the prison," he tells Elliot. "Can't bring an ambulance into the woods, but we'll radio and have them wait at the edge." He looks up at Fin. "Are you able to carry her back?"
"No problem, Cap," Fin nods confidently.
"I-I can do it," Elliot protests weakly.
Cragen almost laughs. "Elliot, you've been without food for days," he says sympathetically. "You're in no condition."
Elliot doesn't question how Cragen knows this. He slowly gets to his feet. "Sh-she's my partner," he stutters, unable to control his shivering.
One of the men in their party promptly hands Elliot a blanket, which he gratefully wraps around his shoulders.
"It's okay, man," Fin lays a palm on his shoulder. "I got her. You just try to warm up, okay?"
Fin crouches down in front of Olivia and gently turns her onto her back. Then he slides one arm each beneath her shoulders and her knees and easily lifts her into his arms.
She doesn't stir.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Fin carries Olivia back to the prison. Elliot walks by their side huddled in the blanket, his eyes never leaving her. She doesn't awaken throughout the trek and they take turns periodically checking that she's still breathing. When they arrive at the waiting ambulance, Elliot begins to describe her condition to the medics while they load her in.
"She'll be okay, Elliot," Cragen tells him with a confidence he doesn't necessarily feel, as they take a seat on either side of her inside the back of the ambulance. "And so will the baby," he adds reassuringly.
Elliot nods, glancing at her unconscious form. "I know," he says, taking her hand in his. He blinks and looks at his boss. "Wait, what?"
"She's gonna be okay," Cragen repeats.
"No, I mean, you said… you said baby. She- she's pregnant?" he asks incredulously.
Cragen frowns. "You didn't know?"
"Sh-she… really?" he exclaims, with genuine shock. His eyes travel from Cragen to Olivia and back to Cragen again.
Cragen takes Elliot's hand and guides it to her abdomen, where a small, albeit distinctive bump is present. He chuckles lightly. "You didn't notice this?"
Elliot blushes fiercely. "No." He swallows. "Sh-she… she was so sick, I just thought…" His eyes widen in horror as the full implications of this piece of news dawn on him. "Oh God, she's been so sick and I made her walk in the freezing cold and if I would've realized, I would never –"
"Elliot." Cragen stops him. "It's not your fault. She didn't tell you. And you probably saved her life."
Elliot nods. "H-how how far along is she?"
"According to her doctor, about twelve weeks."
Elliot's eyes travel to the ceiling and he's silent for several moments; it's obvious to Cragen he's doing some math in his head.
And then Elliot's eyes widen and his face goes utterly white. He looks his boss straight in the eye. "It's mine."
Cragen digests this declaration, somewhat taken aback, but has the presence of mind to keep his expression neutral. Now is not the time.