Author's Comments: You can learn a lot from watching "Breaking Bad."

Chapter Twenty

Fin, Rollins, and Carisi joined Elliot, and the little band of searchers decided to fan out from the bar, which was the last place they had seen her. Elliot went south toward the village, hitting every main street and winding his way back and forth to major avenues. He went into bars, peeked into delis and down alleys, talked to complete strangers to ask if they'd seen her. He carried a recent picture of her on his phone, showing it to everyone who would listen, but nobody he ran across had seen her.

He made it all the way down to the East Village by nightfall, thinking it was hopeless to keep searching, but refusing to give up. This was her city—where else would she go? Normally she could take care of herself, but with delusions and hallucinations, and now alcohol on top of it all, no telling where she had wound up. And what if—God forbid—they never found her again? Or what if she got violent with a stranger and got picked up by the police? But he couldn't think that way. If he was going to stay sane and focused, he needed to concentrate on searching for her in the most effective manner.

He turned down a street with mostly residential buildings, and had just about decided to call in to the others to see how they were progressing. But he passed an alley, and he peered down it, seeing nothing at first. A can rattled down in its dark recesses, though, and he decided to venture down it. He came to a dumpster and turned on his flashlight, and the first thing he saw was a vagrant camped out, presumably homeless, her back resting against the brick wall. And then he saw a foot, the body of the owner of it hidden behind the dumpster.

He studied that foot in the dim light of the flashlight, cocking his head, noticing that the boot on it wasn't falling apart or even heavily worn. It was a stylish black boot, with a little bit of heel, polished and shiny like it had been taken care of.

He advanced to the dumpster, getting a bigger picture of the wearer of the boot as he moved toward it. Black pants, a dark t-shirt with a v-cut neck, and his heart raced as he shone the flashlight higher until the beam landed on her face.

It was her. It was Olivia, lying in a crumpled heap on her side, strands of her long dark hair falling over her face, but he could still recognize her. He breathed quicker now, relieved that he had found her but still shocked at the position she was in, and he had to erase any thoughts of her mortality from his mind until he could get a closer look.

In a flash, he was at her side, and he placed a hand to her ashen cheek and said, "Olivia."

She didn't answer, and she was cold, and now his pulse raced so strong that he could barely hear anything else over his own heartbeat and the sounds of blood rushing through his head. "Olivia," he said, grasping her by the cheeks and shaking her head gently yet vigorously.

He reached under her neck to check her pulse, but she moved then, and he exhaled a day's worth of air at the fact that she was still alive. "Liv," he said, louder this time, hoping he could get more of a response.

To his surprise, she opened her eyes a tiny bit, enough to squint at him and say, "Elliot."

But that's all she said, and her lack of responsiveness worried him. If she was just drunk, she would have been more wordy, more animated, even if she had had several drinks. Maybe she had combined alcohol with something else, and he thought of the painkillers she had been prescribed, but he didn't even think those could have this strong of an effect on her.

"Olivia, can you sit up for me? I need you to get up."

He shook her some more, by the shoulders this time, and the homeless woman next them said, "Leave her alone. She's smacked."

Elliot looked up at the woman now. "What do you mean?" he said, comprehending the words more with every second now. "Did you—did you give her something?"

The woman didn't speak, and he shone a flashlight on Olivia's arm, which showed a red spot in the crook of her elbow. "Did you give her heroin?" he said incredulously.

The woman stared at him, and now he flashed his badge and adjusted his tone to show her he meant business. "You better tell me, or you'll be locked up in rehab for the next two months."

Her tone got softer. "I'm—I'm sorry. Yeah, I gave it to her."

Elliot thought he already knew the answer to the next question but he had to ask anyway. "Did she ask you for it?"

The woman put up her hands. "No. But I swear, she needed it real bad, I could tell, I—"

Elliot's glare must have terrified her into action, because now she stumbled to her feet and took off down the alley. Elliot would have to leave Olivia alone to chase her down, and he wasn't willing to do that, so he let the woman go.

He turned his attention back to Olivia, shaking her again. "C'mon, Liv, wake up. You need to get up."

She moaned, but moved limply like she was trying to sit up but just couldn't manage to get her muscles to work right. Elliot realized he was going to have to do the majority of the work, and he hoisted her first into a sitting position. Her head flopped, but then she recovered and sat, leaning heavily on him. "Elliot, so tired," she slurred.

"I know, I know. But you need to try and get up for me, okay? Here we go—one, two, three."

On three, he pulled with all his might, getting her up to a wobbly standing position, and she let out a high-pitched groan, leaning her back against the wall. He put his arm around her back and pulled her into him, propping her up, and her head wobbled along with her legs, but she somehow stayed up.

Elliot almost wondered if it would be easier to carry her, honeymoon style, but with her weight almost dead, and with dozens of city blocks to go, he didn't see that happening. "C'mon, Liv, take a step," he prodded, and after what seemed like an eternity, she lifted a foot and stuck it out in front of her.

He moved with her, bracing her with every impossible step, one after the other. By the time they reached the end of the alley, he was already exhausted. He reached in his pocket for his phone and called Fin, saying, "I got her, but I need help. We're on Tenth Street close to Thompkins Square. She's not going to make it home on her own."

"I'll get the car and bring it down," said Fin.

Elliot sat Olivia down on the stoop of an apartment complex, sitting next to her to hold her up. She flopped against him, her breath deepening as she leaned her head against his shoulder. "Liv, don't fall asleep," he pleaded.

She mumbled something, but he couldn't make out the words. He pushed her head off his shoulder—not because he didn't want it there, but because he wanted her to stay awake. "Liv, stay with me," he said.

Her eyes opened, but then slowly began to slide shut again. He decided he wasn't going to be able to keep her awake unless he talked to her, so he said, "Liv."

"Huh?" Her long nails scratched at her arm.

"Stay awake. You gotta stay with me. You can do this. You have to."

"I have to," she said, shaking her head to keep from slumping into sleep again.

"Yeah. But I know you can do it. You can, because you're strong. Remember when I said you were strong a few weeks ago?"

"No," she said, her eyes barely-opened slits.

"Well, I did, and I meant it." He gave her shoulders a shake. "Plus, you have to stay with me because . . . well, because I need you to."

"Why?" she said, her head slumping again, just before she brought her chin back up.

"I need you, Liv. I didn't realize it—not until now." He leaned in to say the words right into her ear, and she used the move to her advantage, leaning her head against his shoulder again. "I didn't realize it all those years. I tried to put you out of my mind, tried to forget about you."

"I love you too, El," she mumbled, scratching her nose. It wasn't what he had expected to hear from her, and she probably didn't mean it in her condition, but still, he would take it.

He pushed her head up again, and she whimpered from the effort it took her to sit up. "Stay with me, Liv. I couldn't forget about you all those years because . . . you're unforgettable. I never realized how much you light up my life, and the lives of everyone around you. So stay with me, Liv, because I need you, and the world needs you."

"I can't . . ." she whined, trying to slump against him again.

"Yes, you can," he whispered to her. "Because without you, the world loses and angel."

"I think I see them," she murmured.

"See who?"

"The angels."

Just as she gave up on staying awake and wilted onto his body, Fin's car pulled up to the curb.