Unknown Day
She was going insane. For a brief moment, she thought that questioning her sanity was a good sign, but she dismissed it just as quickly. She was lonely. Kidnappees were not supposed to list lonely as one of their problems. But her arms, starting from the shoulders all the way to the tips of her fingers, had long since gone numb, which was a merciful change from the pain of her strained shoulders. Her body was bruised, mostly from her struggles against the unyielding brick and steel binding her, partly from her struggles against the captor who by all rights shouldn't have been able to overpower her.
But it had been days since she'd eaten, having refused everything he'd offered her. And she'd only had a few sips of water, ingested only out of desperation. She was so cold that her body shivered continuously, burning calories she didn't have to waste. At first, she'd wondered if she'd lose weight, perhaps enough to spoil herself with a huge slice of German chocolate cake from that bakery Elliot occasionally brought her breakfast from.
But those thoughts were gone, replaced with the simple fear that she wouldn't stay sane long enough for survival to matter. She had no sense of time, but it seemed that the captor had been gone for far too long, that perhaps he'd forgotten her, that maybe he had only wanted to kill her, that he could be stupidly waiting for some sort of ransom no one would ever pay for her.
No matter the cause, she missed human contact. Hell, she would have been happy to see a damn stray dog even. It was just her and a dark, empty room with a perpetually damp floor. She shook and cried and choked.
She tried to calm herself down. She remembered how soldiers in captivity repeated their name, rank, and serial number endlessly. Unable to speak, she tried thinking her name over and over, adding in detective and her badge number. But the more times she thought of herself as a detective, the more she realized that hardly fit her any longer. And telling herself over and over again that she was a victim wasn't going to soothe her.
So she moved on to the alphabet. What had seemed initially like a stroke of genius, a simple way for her to stay grounded and focused, proved to be the last straw. Because she only got as far as f before she got distracted, thinking she heard the sound of someone approaching. She concentrated on that for a long, long time, ears straining to hear the sound of the door, located well out of sight in a dark corner. She got so excited over the prospect that he was returning, that she wasn't going to die alone and naked from the waist down chained to a wall, that she forgot about the alphabet.
She could practically see the crime scene photos, spread across Elliot's desk. Her body, perhaps so badly decomposed that they wouldn't even know it was her at first. They'd remark at her handcuffed wrists, perhaps realizing they were department issue, maybe trying to chase down the serial number to see who had purchased them. Then they'd discuss how it was too late to hope for DNA from a rape kit, but that a woman found bound and gagged wearing only a shirt was likely the victim of sexual assault. She wondered if, through some miracle, that the cold preserved the DNA, that the crime lab would happily report that they could identify both the victim and the rapist.
She wondered if Elliot would be sad to hear that the skeleton in the pictures had belonged to his partner, to a woman he'd once felt enough for to fuck.
She wondered what would happen to him when they realized that DNA was his.
It made her hope they would never find her. She wouldn't want anyone to question him, to think that he was capable of such a thing. And she feared they would because they'd all seen them fighting, they'd all seen her storm out of the precinct that day, they'd all heard her say for him to go fuck himself, they'd all heard him tell her to drop dead. It would be so inconvenient for them to find her dead with his semen inside her.
She snorted with irrational laughter. Some detective she was. Her abused body would be his last case, the physical evidence putting an innocent man behind bars, her final act would be to discredit her partner and all the work they'd ever done, probably even get their captain forced into early retirement from the shame.
She would never claim to be the glue that held them all together, but she could certainly prove to be the wedge that drove them apart. It wasn't an honor she wanted.
Day Two, cont'd
Just over an hour after he'd hung up in her ear, Olivia saw the dark outline of his car turning into the parking lot. She'd grown tired of the endless stare of the hostess and had been sitting on the curb, ruining her dress, for most of the hour. At least he hadn't paid a bit of attention to the speed limit in order to get her faster. The thought made her smile.
He pulled to a stop a few feet from her, his narrowed eyes glaring at her during her approach. Her smile faded as she pulled open the door. For the briefest instant, she missed Phil's gleaming new Mercedes and the pristine floor mats. She shook her head and ignored the thought while she kicked aside soda cans and fast food wrappers and newspaper and who knew what else.
She only turned halfway toward him, being sure to keep the right, swollen side of her face from his view. "Thanks, El."
He barely waited for her to get the door shut before he peeled out, leaving what Olivia was sure was a good portion of his tires behind. "You owe me." That was all he had to say. Not a word about her jerk of an ex. Not a bit of a kind word for her mortification. Not anything to indicate that it was ok for her to call him in an emergency.
"Yeah, I owe you one." She glanced at him, noticing the way his face was drawn tight from the creases at the sides of his eyes. He was looking to explode and she hoped it wouldn't be at her.
"No, you don't owe me one. The number you owe me is incalculable. You can do me favors for the rest of our natural lives and we might break even when we're dead."
At least with the way he was pressing the accelerator to the floor the trip would be shorter. She kept her eyes straight ahead, wishing she knew what had him so mad so she would have an idea of what to say. Or what not to say.
She needed to break the silence after ten minutes. It was getting to her. "You got Eli back to sleep." There hadn't been a peep from the car seat behind her.
And naturally, that was the wrong thing to say. "Of course he's asleep. He's a baby and it's the middle of the fucking night."
She ignored his mood and continued trying to get a conversation going. To hell with conversation; she'd settle for any sort of dialogue, just so she didn't have to hear herself think. "A few months ago, he was up around the clock, right?"
His eyes turned from the road, disturbing Olivia based on the sheer rate of speed, and he glared at her. "You know, Kathy and I have a meeting with the lawyers about custody at eight. And I'm going to walk in there half asleep with a baby who didn't get any sleep because my partner has bad taste in men and apparently doesn't have any friends either." She opened her mouth to apologize as her hand instinctively squeezed the armrest in response to Elliot's sudden jerking of the wheel to pass another car. But she didn't get the chance to apologize again. "I could lose him. I'm in enough shit for the hours I work, you know. I could lose visitation over this bullshit."
Like he needed to remind her of all the reasons she'd given him as to why she'd been deemed unfit to be a mother. He'd been so nice to her then, so sweet, that she couldn't even reconcile the memory with the thoughtless man he'd become. She wished he'd told her about the trouble he was having with Kathy so she could have counseled him to stay married. The man was an asshole without a wife. Or maybe, when he was married, he simply took the shit out on Kathy. Either way, it worked out better for her.
Hanging her head in guilt and shame, she dared to glance his way. His anger was directed out the windshield again and she decided not to bother. He wasn't going to talk. Instead, she turned her head and stared out the window, willing her psyche to leave her alone until she got home.
Several close calls with the principles of physics later, Elliot pulled to a stop outside her building for the second time since they'd left work. She'd expected his fury was still in place and she prayed her arm wouldn't get caught in the seatbelt before he floored it. But rather than revving the engine to hasten her departure, he turned off the ignition and put the keys in his pocket.
"Can I get some coffee? I'm half asleep." His apartment wasn't really that far and she wasn't sure why he would chance waking Eli, but she didn't bother to try to dissuade him.
"Yeah, sure. Do you want me to bring it down?"
Before she'd even finished speaking, he was getting out, walking around the car, unhooking the baby seat. Confused and exhausted, she led the way into her building. She started up the coffee maker before she even bothered to kick off her shoes. Anything to keep him from snapping at her and declaring that she was trying to keep him there longer. She desperately wanted to change into sweats, but she didn't dare take the time. Instead she stared at the machine, waiting with a mug in hand for it to finish.
Elliot was sitting on the edge of her couch, leaning over Eli's carrier, smiling warmly at the sleeping baby. He turned toward her as she made her way into the room and reached for the coffee. "Thanks." She mentally counted mood swing 1172 for the day and sighed.
She sat down beside him, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She could only watch as Eli's eyes opened to stare up at his father. Before he could start to cry, Elliot had him lifted up, cuddling the tiny creature against his broad chest, shushing him gently. And for the moment, Olivia was glad for the events of the evening because she was seeing a side of Elliot she never would have believed existed. Eli settled back to sleep quickly, snuggled in the crook of his father's arm. With a rueful smile, Olivia figured that was probably quite a nice place to be, provided he wasn't pissed off.
Busy staring at the baby, she didn't notice that Elliot's eyes had turned on her. But she noticed the gasp he let out. "Jesus Christ." His free hand reached out, turned her chin toward him, sizing up her bruised face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She didn't know what to say. She didn't even know if he was still mad at her. But he stood up, taking Eli into the other room, leaving Olivia to wonder what he was doing. He returned with a bag of frozen peas, sitting down close beside her to press them against her cheek. She kept her eyes turned away, fearing she was about to cry again.
"Where the hell do you find these pricks?"
She tried to smile, telling herself that just because Elliot didn't believe in hitting women didn't mean he was particularly concerned with her. "All the good ones are married." She shrugged and spoke before she thought better of it. "Or in the middle of a divorce." Embarrassed by her own admission, she took the bag from his hand and sat back to hold it for herself. "I'm pretty sure I broke his nose."
Elliot was grinning when he reached for her hand to inspect it. A dark blue bruise had formed across her knuckles. "I'd say so." He met her eyes. "Good for you."
"Probably should have waited until he brought me home, huh?"
Settling back beside her, Elliot shifted Eli around to rest on his lap. "I wouldn't have been such a jerk if you'd told me."
She needed to lighten up the topic because it was a little too uncomfortable, especially with someone who was always changing his mind regarding whether he liked her or not. "You're always a jerk."
"Hey, I thought I was one of the good ones."
She laughed, grateful that he wasn't going to press the comment she'd made into an issue. "When you're not being a jerk."
With the lack of conversation finally comfortable, Elliot switched on the television. They watched the re-broadcast of the regular news, interrupted by Eli's occasional consciousness. Watching the gentleness with which Elliot comforted his son, Olivia wanted to scream for the injustice of it all.
"Would she really take him from you?"
Elliot's eyes remained fixed on his son as he nodded. "There wouldn't be lawyers involved otherwise."
"But how can she do that?" She didn't understand how anyone who'd ever seen Elliot so loving and attentive could want to take the baby away from him. She couldn't imagine a better father.
Elliot shrugged, holding Eli's tiny hand in two of his fingers. "Divorces make people crazy, Liv."
"I thought you loved each other." Olivia had never been in love, but she had loved people. Regardless of their relationship, she'd loved her mother fiercely, tried to protect her from her misery, because her mother had chosen to have her and keep her and tried so hard to love her. She'd loved her grandparents for the fact that they gave her two weeks every summer until they died to be away from her mother and the drinking and never once mentioned that they didn't understand or support Serena's choice to keep her. And she loved Elliot, loved him with everything she had because he was the only person she'd met in her life that hadn't left her yet. She would have traded her life for any of them without hesitation.
Love, real love, wasn't supposed to stop.
Elliot's eyes turned to her, confusion slowly giving way to pity. "Haven't you ever been in love?"
She looked away, blinking back tears as she realized that maybe she had been in love. Except that, in keeping with her definition of real love, it wasn't in the past tense. She couldn't look at him. "Yeah, I have."
"Then you know how it goes. Things change." He sounded like he didn't quite believe her and she couldn't blame him. It was news to her too.
"But I don't hate him." She looked up, finding his eyes waiting for her. "I could never hate him."
His hand found her unmarked cheek, his thumb sliding gently across the skin. "Then he's a lucky man."
Frightened by the intensity of the moment, she turned away. "He probably wouldn't think so." Her eyes locked on the tv and stayed there, not wavering until after the credits rolled. When she dared to look back, Elliot was sound asleep. Very carefully, so as not to wake him, she nudged him until he lay down. Eli was cradled between Elliot and the back of the couch, so she threw a blanket over them and let them sleep.
