Author's Comments: Oh geez. And I can't say that this story gets any easier anytime soon. But no spoilers.

Too Close

Chapter Six

Part 1.

Elliot guided Amanda by the arm to a semi-private area near the interrogation rooms. She was the only one in the unit who knew that Elliot was in a relationship with Olivia, and he could tell by the way she glowered at him that she knew what he had done. "Hey, you talked to Liv lately?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, her eyes narrowing. "I saw her Friday night. Got a call to your house."

He looked around to see if anyone had heard her, since she didn't make any effort to keep her voice down. "Okay, but have you seen her since then?" he said.

"I'm not telling you where she is, Stabler," she said, her tone dripping venom. "But no. Haven't talked to her since that night. I assume she wants her privacy to sort things out."

He nodded curtly and said, "I don't want you violating her wishes or anything. But she never showed up for work today, and I'm worried about her. Not that I would expect her to answer my calls, but it takes a lot for her to stay home."

"Captain says she's sick," said Amanda.

Elliot paused, processing the information. "Can you just call her, so at least I know she's okay? I promise, I won't ask to speak to her."

Amanda cast one more nasty look at him and went to her desk to retrieve her phone. She dialed and waited, setting the phone down after a few seconds. She shook her head at him.

He tried to have patience. But the last time he had given her space when he couldn't get ahold of her was when Lewis had her tied to her bed, committing horrific acts of torture on her. Waiting until the end of the day, he approached Amanda again and said, "Look, I'm not trying to stalk her. I just want to know she's okay. How did she seem Friday night?"

Amanda said, "Not real good. She was pretty shook up." Her face softening, she said, "I'm worried about her too."

Elliot began to pace, and ran his fingers over his hair. He stopped and looked at her again, saying, "I have to go check on her. Where is she?"

Amanda shook her head and said with an air of indigniation, "No, Elliot. I can't let you go down and barge in on her after what you did." They stared at each other for a minute, and then she said, "I'll go with you."

As they were walking out, Amanda said, "I shouldn't be taking you there. But the last time I had a bad feeling about Olivia, it turned out way worse than I imagined."

Part 2.

After Elliot pounded on Olivia's hotel room door for upwards of five minutes and she didn't answer, he decided to use the power of his badge. He expected Amanda to protest, offering explanations like, "Maybe she went out," but she silently backed him up by following him down to the front desk.

"Police," he said, flashing his badge. "We need a key to Room 459."

The clerk at the front desk narrowed his eyes. "You got a warrant?"

"It's an emergency," said Amanda, her voice stern. "There's an officer in trouble, so unless you want to get locked up for interfering with an investigation and—"

"Okay, okay," he said, fishing behind the desk for the key card.

They ran back up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Elliot didn't know how he knew, but the situation was urgent, and he wasn't going to risk wasting one second. He popped the key into the lock and said, "Come on, come on," as he waited for the light to turn green.

Pushing the door open and scanning the room, he nearly averted his eyes when he spotted her unconscious naked body lying askew on the bed. But then he realized she wasn't just sleeping—she couldn't be, or she would have awakened by his fist pounding on the door. 'The same one I used to pound in her face,' he thought.

He was at her side in a second, saying, "Liv—Liv," as he patted her bruised cheek. His eyes couldn't help but venture down to the red mark around her neck, and he screamed inwardly at himself. Amanda brought over Olivia's coat and laid it over her exposed skin. Elliot felt for a pulse, and there was one, albeit weak.

"Elliot," said Amanda from the round table by the window. He tore his eyes away from Olivia's face to check out the empty bottles of liquor Amanda held in her hand. Her gaze was drawn to something else on the table, and her hand flew up to her mouth as she said, "Oh my God, no."

She held up an empty medicine bottle and said, "I gave her these painkillers the other night."

"How many were there?" Elliot said, practically shouting.

"I don't know—at least twenty, maybe twenty-five?" she said, her eyes wide.

"Oh, shit," he said, looking down at Olivia's unresponsive face. He sat next to her and pried open one of her eyelids with his finger. "Her pupils are tiny," he said, standing now.

He picked up her dead weight, coat and all, and slung her over his shoulder. Amanda opened the door, and Elliot thought it a good thing that she was there to flash her badge at everyone they passed, or he would have been reported as a kidnapper by now. After they made it out of the lobby past the stunned gazes of the desk clerk and a couple of tourists, Amanda opened the back door of the cruiser they had parked out front, and Elliot plopped Olivia's unmoving body onto the back seat.

"Dispatch—Manhattan SVU, we have an officer down, suicide attempt, on route to Bellevue, ETA five or ten minutes," said Amanda into her radio, trying to keep her voice level.

Elliot heaved Olivia over to make a spot for himself in the back seat, and Amanda hopped behind the wheel. He lurched as the car swerved out into traffic, sirens blaring and lights spinning. He pulled Olivia up to a sitting position, holding her against him while he grabbed her face in his hand and shook it. "Liv . . . Liv. Wake up, Liv," he said in desperation, but she did not respond. He whispered into her ear, "Please wake up, Liv. I need you to stay with me."

But her head slumped in his hand, and he finally let her sink against him, floppy like one of his son's stuffed toys. He stroked her hair and took several deep breaths as he watched her chest barely rising and falling beneath the sleek black coat on top of her. Then he stopped breathing altogether at the same time she did, counting eight seconds before she inhaled again.

As soon as the air hit her lungs, she began to stir, her head turning to the side and her arm brushing against his chest. "El?" she murmured.

"Liv?" he said, perking up now. He helped her sit up again, although most of the effort came from him, as she was still too weak to open her eyes.

But her lips parted, and she said, "El, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" he said, wrapping his arms around her. He brushed his lips against her ear and said, "Just do me a favor—try to stay awake."

She nodded, but feebly pulled away from him to hurl all over the floor. He leaned toward her to pull her hair away from her face, and she threw up again. And then she went limp once more, and he hauled her up into his arms again, saying, "Liv. C'mon, stay with me."

He shook her by the shoulders, but it was no use—he knew she wasn't going to wake up again until they got to the hospital, if ever. Nevertheless, he put his face next to hers and said quietly, "Liv, you have nothing to apologize for. You never did anything to deserve what I did, and I'll never forgive myself." He brushed her hair away from her face and said, "I'm so sorry, Liv. Please, just do one last thing for me, and stay with me." Rocking gently while holding her limp body solidly in his arms while his tears dripped onto her, he silently begged God not to take her from him because of his stupid, bull-headed behavior.