Unknown Day

Shivering from the cold, she pulled her knees into her chest, wishing it had been one of those mornings when she pulled on an extra layer beneath her cotton dress pants. Of course, she consoled herself with the thought that no one really sets out to be kidnapped in the morning. Her arms were handcuffed above her, as they were the whole time he'd been holding her. But at least he'd removed the blindfold.

The room was a dull, cinderblock gray. The hard cement floor offered nothing in the way of comfort, pushing unmercifully against her tailbone as she tried to shift in such a way that might keep her warm and prevent bruises on her ass. It took a long moment for her to realize the stupidity of her thought. She'd been kidnapped and was held prisoner with her mouth gagged and her hands cuffed to the wall. Bruises were hardly going to be her biggest worry.

She needed to go to the bathroom and she was terribly thirsty, but the prick's obnoxious face stayed fresh in her mind, especially his smile when he'd told her to ring the bell if she needed anything. Spitting in his face hadn't even given her the pleasure of seeing him angry. He'd only wiped the spit from his cheek and smiled, telling her he'd be back when she was in the mood to talk. Comfort be damned, she'd die before she touched that fucking buzzer.

Looking around distracted her from the pressing physical issues. There were two windows, high on the wall of the room she occupied, at either end of the side she was chained to. Too high and too filthy for her to see anything. There were water stains around the windows and she recognized the distinct smell of mildew. She filed it away in the back of her head, to keep in mind if she got the chance. She guessed she was in a basement somewhere. High as the windows were, they were probably within reach of her outstretched arms if she were standing under them. And she knew she had the strength, if she had even a moment unlocked, to pull herself to freedom. Once she got out of the room, she could run like hell, screaming all the way.

The thing that really got to her, crawled under her skin and festered like an infected blister, was the toilet. It was located against the opposite wall, about ten feet from her. The plumbing was new, the shine still obvious in the low light. As much as she kind of wished she could get to it, she resented it. The son of a bitch had plumbing installed. Whether for her or some other unwitting victim, it didn't matter. It nauseated her.

The idea that the intention was for her to stay there long enough to need a bathroom didn't sit well with her. Not that being kidnapped sat well with her. But she knew her partner, asshole that he was, would notice she was missing. It had been late when he'd grabbed her, her normally attentive paranoia waning in the face of being so near sleep after a shitty day. And it had been an incredibly shitty day, in all probability, the worst she'd ever faced, and that had been before she'd been kidnapped. She'd been on her way home, not actually sure if she was ever returning to the precinct again. But she promised herself that Elliot would notice her absence the next morning.

By the following day, at least.

But remembering the events of the day made her wonder if he would ever expect to see her again.

And that was what finally made her give in to the tears, knowing that the only person who might notice she was missing was the last person who ever wanted to see her again.

Because she'd enjoyed what he'd done to her. Because he'd known it. Because it disgusted him.

Maybe this was her punishment for being a sick, perverted, gross person so desperate for love that she had no pride, felt no shame, was willing to sink into a bottomless pit of physical release.

It was just as well that he would never come looking for her. She could never face him again anyway.

Day Two

Olivia had never felt quite so pathetic in her life. She'd just had the most fantastic dinner she'd ever eaten in her life at the most unbelievably swanky restaurant she'd ever seen. And there she was, asking the hostess if she could use a phone. Because she didn't have change for the pay phone. Because she didn't have her cell phone. Because her cell phone was in her purse, along with her badge, gun, wallet, and favorite lipstick, which was hightailing it down I-95 at 80 miles an hour without her.

Because when the son of a bitch had hit her, she got out of the car without it.

After she'd broken his nose, of course.

And damn it, if her hand didn't hurt.

It was only a few minutes after midnight and she was already to call the day a complete disaster.

And the hostess, naturally, couldn't quite fathom what the problem was and had never been faced with a woman sporting a rapidly swelling cheek asking for a phone.

When the girl volunteered to use the restaurant phone to call the police, Olivia gave up. She retreated to the pay phone, located in the echoing hallway outside the bathrooms, to call Elliot collect. He was going to kill her. And that was ok. Just so long as he picked her up.

"Stabler."

Olivia cringed when the recording began speaking, not sure whether or not to be thankful that it left her in silence, pending his answer. She hadn't tried calling anyone collect in fifteen years, so she wasn't sure what to make of the series of clicks and buzzes and static.

"El?"

"What's going on?" Of course he knew something was up. She was calling him collect from a pay phone.

Crossing her fingers that the number was blocked from his caller ID, she tried to keep herself from giving away that she was seething with anger. Elliot might not come to get her if he knew she was liable to go off on him simply because he was there. But before she could even figure out how to ask, she heard the wail of a baby in the background and a muffled curse.

"I just got him to sleep, Liv, so this had better be good."

She cringed, realizing that it was his week with Eli and knowing that his bad mood was going to come back. But it wasn't like she had a choice. "Can you come get me?"

The wailing got louder and Elliot's voice softer as he picked up and tried to soothe his young son. "Seriously, Liv, can't you call Phil?"

She took a deep breath, wanting to scream when the bathroom door opened and drowned the hallway in a series of echoing toilet flushes. "We had a fight."

The wailing paused, but only long enough for the baby to get in a full breath. "Where the hell are you?"

"Does that mean you'll come get me?" She wanted to be embarrassed that she was so hopeful, but she was too desperate for such an indulgence. She had no one else to call.

"Are you in the bathroom?" He sounded pissed off, but she couldn't complain. She'd be pissed off too if she had to listen to a wailing baby all night.

"I'm outside of one."

"You're both adults, Liv, I'm sure Phil will take you home even if you're fighting."

She closed her eyes and wished for once that she hadn't done such a good job of convincing everyone around her that she could take care of herself. Had she appeared weaker, Phil might have felt worse for leaving her and Elliot might have been willing to pick her up without a fight.

"He already left." She kind of wanted to smack her forehead into the wall, but her head hurt from the blow and she had no desire to make it worse. "Please?"

"Aren't there any cabs?" There were noises in the background and she hoped he was getting ready to leave.

"I don't think they have cabs up here." Getting him to even think about picking her up was hard enough; she really wasn't looking forward to explaining that she was an hour away from the city.

"Up here? Where the hell are you?"

"New Haven."

The silence was so long she thought the phone had gone dead.

"El?"

"Connecticut?" He took a long, loud deep breath. "You want me to drive up to New fucking Haven with Eli at this hour?"

She said nothing. She was close to tears, not from Elliot's anger, but from the situation. She'd trusted Phil. He'd seemed like a nice guy. If a guy who would hit her and then abandon her over an hour away from home seemed nice to her, she needed serious help. She fought to control her voice, not sure she was doing a good job of it. "Please, El, I don't have anyone else to call."

"All right, give me the address."

Once she'd given it to him, started to feel even guiltier for ruining his night. "I really appreciate this, El."

"You're not going to. I'm going to kill you when I get there."

"Well, I'll be here."

"Never mind, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to kill Phil."

Olivia smiled, a real smile. "I'll help you hide the body."

"I'm on my way. Try not to wander any further away if you can."

She didn't get a chance to pledge her undying gratefulness before the dial tone sounded in her ear. He was irritated, with good reason, but he hadn't seemed too angry. Not with him agreeing to come get her. Then again, he knew she didn't have anyone else to call and he'd probably let her know how unhappy he was with her lack of friends. She could hardly blame him. She wasn't too happy about it herself.