She's sitting in interrogation with a suspect. The vein in her forehead pulsates as she relentlessly questions him. Her partner sits next to her. For the first time in a while they seem to be back into a rhythm. She stops questioning the suspect, abruptly. Nick looks over at her, and sees a look of terror on her face.
"Liv are you okay?" He queries.
She pushes her chair back, "Excuse me," she stands up.
"Where are you going?" He calls after her as she bolts from the room.
She exits the room and whizzes past Cragen, who stands outside the interrogation room, in front of the window. Nick leaves the room behind his partner.
"Can you stay with him?" Nick asks.
"Yeah," Cragen nods, "What happened in there?"
"You haven't been listening?"
"I just got a call that the DNA was a match, I was getting ready to tap on the glass."
"I don't know what happened. One minute we're questioning the suspect, and the next she just freezes."
"You think it's the PTSD?"
"I don't know."
"Go find her," Cragen insists as he enters the interrogation room.
Nick heads into the squad room. He finds Fin sitting at a desk, behind his computer.
"Did you see where Liv went?"
"She made a beeline for the bathroom, why?"
"She just bolted out of interrogation."
"Maybe she wasn't ready."
"She pushed to be on this case. I don't think that was it."
Nick leaves the squad room, and heads to the ladies restroom. He taps on the door, and pushes it slightly ajar.
"Liv are you in there?"
"Yeah."
"Is anyone else in there?"
"No."
"Are you okay?"
"I..." she hesitates.
He doesn't think twice as he pushes the door open, and enters the bathroom. As he enters the bathroom she exits the stall, and heads for the sink. The look of terror is still etched across her face.
"Olivia what's wrong?" He questions as she turns on the faucet to wash her hands, "Was the interrogation too much?"
She reaches past him to grab a paper towel. She shakes her head, and purses her lips.
"Liv talk to me, please. I can finish the interrogation if it's too much. DNA came back, it's a match."
"That's not it."
He touches her shoulder, and turns her towards him.
"Olivia what's wrong?"
"I have to go."
"Have to go? Go where?"
"The hospital."
"What are you talking about?"
She cocks an eyebrow, and shoots him a look, "Really?"
He takes a step back, and looks studies her body language instead of her facial expression. He notices the stain on her pants.
"Come on, I'll take you," he insists, in a calm tone.
"I can't do this," she tells him, on the verge of tears.
He holds out a paper towel as the tears start to roll down her cheeks, "You can do anything. We should probably go."
"Okay," she agrees, nearly hyperventilating.
He escorts her to the elevator, and sends Cragen a text message. She climbs into the car, and he starts the engine.
"Have you been having contractions?" He wonders as they pull away from the curb.
"I have been having Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks. I..."
"For how long?" He cocks an eyebrow.
"Since this morning," she admits.
"How long exactly?"
"Three hours."
"Then we have time."
"It's too soon. This isn't supposed to happen yet. I am supposed to have six more weeks."
He flips on the sirens. They make it to the hospital in less than ten minutes in noontime traffic. By the time they reach the hospital entrance she is hysterical. They usher her to the OB unit. He sits in a chair in a waiting room. Within ten minutes the nurse comes out to retrieve him.
"She's asking for you."
The nurse leads him into a private room. He steps over the threshold, and finds his partner in a gown hooked up to an IV, and monitors. He stops once he's reached the head of her bed.
"What did they say?"
"I can't do this. I don't want to do this."
He lowers himself into the chair that is positioned next to the bed. "Tell me what they said."
"I'm supposed to have six more weeks," she explains as the tears stream down her face.
"What did the nurse say?"
She exhales, "My water broke."
"And they can't stop it."
"No," she shakes her head.
"It's going to be okay, I promise."
"Nothing is okay. I don't want to be her. I don't want to do this. I..."
He cuts her off, "Take a deep breath."
"I'm not ready."
"No one ever is, but you have some time. We have hours before this happens. I can stay right here, if you want."
"Please don't leave me," she begs.
"I won't, even if it takes all night."
"I'm already at eight."
"Eight?"
"What if something is wrong? It's too early. This is all my fault."
"How is any of this your fault?"
"I didn't listen to what the doctor said. I should have listened."
"What did he say?"
"He wanted to put me on bed rest two weeks ago, and I wouldn't let him. If something is wrong it's my fault."