"It's against the law," Olivia muttered quietly, her voice strained. Her chin was resting on her palm as she gazed out the car window in what he knew was deep thought. Seeing a pool of blood that was possibly the only family you had could do that to you. "Us not calling in a murder."
"It was not a murder, Olivia," Elliot responded to her comment, eyes focused on the road and his hand poised on the steering wheel so he could avoid seeing her in such a state. "It was a blood stain."
"That much blood?" Olivia asked incredulously. "It was mur - it was murder."
The last word caught in her throat, almost suffocated her just like what seemed to be the lack of air in this godforsaken world. This was what they dealt with everyday but to understand why it was happening to them was beyond her. Simon was the only family she had and now she had to use the word murder to describe him.
He reached over to knead her shoulder, witnessing her tear filled brown eyes. "We call it in and the next thing you know, we find ourselves under arrest. I do not want Richard White to know he has the upper hand."
"That had to be his blood."
"We got a sample and we'll take it Warner so that she can compare it against yours. Until we have an actual body and proof that it is Simon, we can't let ourselves jump to any conclusions our we'll go insane."
Olivia stared down at the corpse on the table, wondering if this would soon be her own brother. The image of the crimson stain bore into her brain and she clamped a hand over her mouth, afraid she might blow her breakfast if she spent another waking moment recalling the scene. She had been cruel and distant from Simon lately, actions she was now regretting given that she might have lost him forever. But Simon was intelligent, a bonafide criminal who would find a way to keep himself alive if he really was at the mercy of Richard White. This thought was what she clung to.
"Did you get the results yet?" Elliot inquired as he tore his eyes away from Olivia.
"The blood wasn't his," Warner replied and Elliot let his shoulders sink in utter relief as he let the information float throughout his brain.
"Even you can't do a blood test that fast."
"I actually didn't have to."
Elliot furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "How?"
"Both Olivia and her bother are A+, as was their biological father. The blood you brought me was O."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly as he pondered what he wanted to happen next. The blood had turned out not to be that of Simon, but then whose was it? And how exactly had it gotten shed on the floor of Olivia's apartment? He deduced that if Simon wasn't already dead somewhere else along with the person the blood belonged to, it would not be long before they did kill him. Especially if they knew he had information pertaining to Olivia; their ultimate goal, after all, was to get to Olivia and Simon knew exactly how to make that happen.
"Thank you," Elliot said with his lips pursed. This was great news but it didn't make him any happier. "I'll keep you updated."
He glanced over his shoulder at Olivia, whose hands were buried deep in the pockets of her dark blue jeans, her features obscured by the chestnut hair that had fallen into her face. He couldn't see her reactions but he was certain she mollified to learn her brother was alive at the very least. Although the frown playing on her lips and her absentminded demeanor could have fooled him.
He rested his calloused hand on the small of her back and he felt her flinch, snapping back to reality. "Are you okay?"
Clearly she wasn't okay; she was was falling apart, barely holding on. But he wanted her to know he was there. She turned and splayed her hands across his solid frame, reveling in the contact that seemed so comforting and a solitude she had been searching for. Her face cached in the crook of his neck, her lips brushing inadvertently against the flesh there and he struggled to hold back a shudder but he gripped her tightly still, keeping her safe merely by being there.
"You need to stop letting me hug you every time I get scared."
"When I get scared, you can let me hug you," Elliot said softly, his signature Stabler grin there to greet her as pulled her back to his form. "Like right now."
"Why are you scared?"
"Because that may not have been Simon at your apartment," Elliot cleared his throat. "But it was certainly the caveat he's doling out to let people know that it is not wise to mess with his sister."
"You think Simon killed someone for me?" Olivia questioned with wide eyes.
"Simon loves you," Elliot pointed out, picturing the way Simon had bristled when he had discovered his only family was in danger. "I can almost guarantee he would do whatever it takes to protect you."
"The lives of the people I love are getting screwed up because of me!" Olivia spat out in a heated tone, scrubbing both hands over her face in frustration and shook her head. "Can we please just go home before I have to think about this anymore?"
"Let's go home," Elliot nodded in agreement, guiding her out to the company. He opened the passenger door for an unsteady Olivia, lifting his head to examine the seemingly quaint park across the street. Their surroundings seemed quiet, too quiet for his liking and he could see a shadow move stealthily between bushes. That was when he saw it; the glistening shine of a gun aimed right at them.
"Get down!"
The yell was lost in the sound of the echoing gunshots, each coming instantly after the other, and he yanked Olivia down alongside him, glass from the car door shattering into a million pieces all around them as their hands flew up to shield their faces. He fingered the weapon at his belt, cocking it and firing it within seconds.
All hell broke loose.
He had developed excellent reflexes over the years, ducking when shots came whizzing past various parts of his body but he needed to find the location of the mystery shooter. Olivia was still crouched behind the protective barrier of the car door but she was wishing desperately for her weapon. Because then maybe she wouldn't feel so goddamn helpless.
She could hear the shots fired from each end, like a game of ping pong, Elliot serving one and the shooter returning them with equal fervor. Elliot had to be running low on ammo. She didn't want to think about what would happen if his gun were to become empty.
"Elliot!"
He could hear the panic lilting her voice and he motioned toward the lifeless body sprawled on the pavement. Elliot crawled toward him, first kicking his gun away from his clutch, his two fingers searching for a pulse.
"He's dead," Elliot informed her, searing pain coursing through his body like wildfire. "Are you okay?"
She glanced down at herself and found no more than a few bruises and lacerations scattered over her body. Her shirt was torn in several places and glass was littered over her clothes. "I'll be okay, but you're bleeding."
His lips parted and he lowered hi head to his abdomen, removing his blood covered hand from what appeared to be his wound. He obviously had been shot. Her heart swelled at this notion, terrified for Elliot.
She inched towards him on her hands and knees, pressing her hand over the wound for pressure. The blood was seeping over her fingers now, the blood flow ceasing to stop. His body suddenly slumped against her, collapsing to the ground as he resembled the dead body next to him.
Everything faded to black.
"Elliot!"
She wanted to scream his name again, thinking that maybe her voice could bring him back to consciousness but when she tried to find the words, all that seemed to come out was a strangled, muffled sound.
His hand was pressed against her mouth, the cold steel of the barrel of the weapon wielding into her side. She struggled to get away but his hold on her was too strong.
"We meet again."
The voice of Richard White in her ear sent chills down her spine.
