Stars
The scene was familiar to both of them. She couldn't even begin the count the number of times she and Elliot had done this same thing. Car chases were never routine, but they were easier when she had complete faith in the person who was driving the car.
Adrenaline flowed in their blood, as their senses elevated to razor sharp responses. Their car dodged between others to keep up with the speeding black SUV ahead of them. Most people had the sense to pull over, but there was always that one idiot who slammed on the brakes in the middle of the road. Elliot swore under his breath as they dodged around a checkerboard of stopped traffic.
They had their flashing red light in the front of the car. Olivia had always preferred to chase in a traditional black and white car—which was of course entirely impractical for a stake out. There was a certain kind of authority that came from being in one of those that their unmarked cards lacked. They had trouble pulling people over in unmarked vehicles. People were so god damn suspicious, not that she could blame them. With what she saw, she probably wouldn't stop for an unmarked car either, but then again, she could spot an unmarked car fifty feet away.
She could hear the sirens on either side, coming towards them quickly. Back up was on the way as they sped out of the city and past parks, houses, and schools. She hated this type of chase. There was such a risk of injury, especially in residential neighborhoods. There was so much that could go wrong. Of course it helped that it was the middle of the god damn night. She knew well enough that just because it was the middle of the night didn't mean that children were safe.
She called out directions over the radio. She scanned the windows carefully, watching for pedestrian traffic to give Elliot as much of a heads up as was humanly possible when assholes stopped in the middle of the street.
"It's green," She yelled to Elliot as he started to slow for the upcoming intersection, "Go, go," she yelled to him as she felt the car accelerate because he trusted her call.
It was only one second.
Sometimes, things happen so quickly, that it seems like it's all going in slow motion. The pictures of it flash like old animation, one slow frame a time. They're filled with a jerky movement forward reminding the viewer that things aren't quite as they seem. It's not whole. The story is not fluid and the retelling not entirely correct.
Pieces are missing.
Big pieces. Without them, the whole thing was no longer discernable and no one was sure what had been and what was.
While Olivia would hear several stories about the events of that night but most of what she would remember came in fragments. Elliot's voice. Street names and numbers. The green light. When Elliot glanced to the right, she instinctively checked the left. There was nothing. She knew there was nothing. But then? The headlights were so close. Elliot screaming her name. The wrong side. The wrong time. The collision.
The sound came first. The crunch of metal against metal—the fight of the pieces proving that no two things can exist in the same space at the same time. The squeal of tires as the cars pushed across the intersection at an awkward angle, victims of gravity and physics.
The things that ran through her mind didn't make sense. She would remember worrying about the coffee cups, no longer in their holders, splashed against the interior of the car. The smell of the coffee mixed with the unmistakable copper and chemical smells of blood and gasoline.
Most of it is over before she knows it has happened. There was an eerie silence like the entire world has stopped for a moment. Pieces fall back into place. Far away a radio is blaring, wheels spinning on their axis with an eerie chilling squeal. The squawk of their radio fills the air, and yet, it seems as though it's a million miles away playing through a foggy haze.
Nothing happens.
No one moves.
Quiet.
And then...
He moves.
He is talking but she's not talking back.
"Olivia?"
She hears her name. His voice.
"Talk to me?"
She tries to talk back.
She knows he's there.
That's enough.
She tries to move, but she can't. She tries to get out, but everything's numb.
Alex's face flashes through her mind—it trumps the pain and the fear. Someone has to tell her. She wished that Alex never had to know. She wants to get out so she can make this all okay. So that no one worries.
She needed to get out. She pushed and felt the immediate protest. Her lungs can't fill with air fast enough. She's immediately dizzy and regrets moving. She lays back willing herself to stay awake.
It seemed like hours before she heard sirens, someone was finally on the scene. She knows it's probably seconds.
She can't see much, but she can hear pieces of conversation. Processing is hard.
She wants to yell, but her voice doesn't work. She waits. She can hear Elliot's voice.
She knows he's there and she's content to know he will find her. He screams at someone, "My partner's inside."
She sees a face.
"She's alive," the guy shouts, and she realizes in hazy layers that he's talking about her. Metal crunches and she feels herself moving. She feels pain but it feels far away. She hears medical jargon; she's heard it all before. "She's bleeding," someone says. My head. She wants to tell them it's not as bad as it looks. It's always like that with head wounds.
She hears her own voice, "A.." It sounds like it's coming from a hundred miles away. It's so hard to breathe.
"She's trying to say something."
She tries to suck in air. "Alex," she manages, but she realizes that all she gets back are confused faces.
"Did you get that?" One of the guys says to the other.
"No," He says. He puts a mask over her face. It's too late.
Someone's got to tell her, and it fleets through her brain that maybe no one will. No one knows through their own design.
Someone throws a blanket over her. She's not cold, she wants to say, even though she knows it's January and it's freezing. She stares at the sky, thinking about how she can see the stars. Everything is so peaceful and reality is fading so fast.
A guy grabs her, they're moving her and white hot pain flashes through her body. "She's a cop," Elliot shouts.
"Olivia Benson," someone says.
"There's a ball park where they can land." Another voice says.
Elliot talks. "That's my partner," he yells.
Yes, yes. Elliot. She thinks.
"Olivia," another voice says, "We're going to take you to the hospital. You've got to stay awake for us."
She hears a chopper and wonders who it's for. Her eyes move again to the sky, to the million stars twinkling bright. Alex, she thinks. They're just like the sparkle in her eyes. Alex's face is the last thought that flashes through her mind as a deep sinking blackness falls over her and she falls into unconsciousness.
To be continued...