"An open stab wound and a tiny GPS tracker?" Father grinned. "What a match."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Neither of them had slept all night.

Olivia knew it because she hadn't slept a wink, and all through the long, dark night she'd listened to Father shifting on his chair, tapping his phone, scratching his bristle, and every now and then she'd felt his gaze on her skin despite the darkness.

She hadn't eaten anything in almost 12 hours, the little cabin had no heating, and she had shivered in the cold corner, trying to wrap the gown tighter around herself. She had missed Elliot, missed his warmth and strong, safe arms around her, missed him so much it almost hurt. Only the thought that he was alive, and apparently relatively well, had given her some comfort.

When the first rays of the morning had filtered through the small, dirty window of the cabin, Father stretched on his chair and stood up, his joints cracking. Olivia sat quietly, clutching her knees to her chest, exhausted, and didn't say anything, just stared ahead.

"Morning," Father smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. Olivia looked up at him but didn't answer. "Your partner still seems to be in the hospital, but if I guess correctly, he will leave there as soon as the first doctor in the morning comes to see him. It takes about a couple of hours to drive here from the hospital, so…" He bit his lip thoughtfully. "We have about 3 hours until we know roughly how far the cops are."

"So what's your plan?" Olivia's voice was hoarse, her throat dry, and she cleared her throat to sound more convincing. "Lose the cops, drag me out of the woods and keep me locked in some doghouse until you get the money after selling my baby?"

Father chuckled. "Good guess. But no, I'm not going to keep you in the doghouse. You're my wife, remember?"

Olivia blinked, unsure if she had heard correctly.

"What? I'm not your wife!"

"Not yet, but you will be."

"No, I won't!" She snapped, straightening her back, but Father just watched her with an unwavering expression on his face. "I…"

"You won't because you love someone else?" He picked up the gun from the table, made her swallow, and began examining it as if it were somehow particularly interesting. "I know, but it doesn't matter."

"I…" Olivia opened her mouth, but the next thought popped into her mind. "And what after that? Who are you going to sell my baby to?"

"I can't tell it."

"You can't?" She felt anger begin to bubble up inside her, increasing her courage with each passing second. "Have you ever thought about how many embittered criminals like you are in this city, in this country, who would like to cut me and Elliot into pieces? How many of them would love the chance to get their hands on our child and… Avenge…" Anger gave way to the tears that welled up in her eyes and made her voice break. However, Father just shrugged.

"I am interested in the baby until I get my money. After that, it's not my problem anymore."

Suddenly, Olivia felt like she wasn't getting any more oxygen, and she stood up, but at the same time, nausea rose in her throat, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. Father raised his eyebrows.

"And what are you doing?"

But she wasn't able to answer, despite the prohibitions, she turned on her heel, rushed out of the cabin, and emptied the contents of her stomach. Father rushed after her and grabbed her gown, but realizing the situation, he let go and began stroking her back.

"Ah, morning sickness. I wouldn't want to be you now."

Thanks a lot.

And when he started to drag her back to the cabin, she realized that this was the first tangible sign that she really was pregnant.

And it was terrifying.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elliot did exactly as Father had wished; he rushed out of the hospital doors as soon as the doctor had said "he's fine, as long as he takes it easy". The bullet had hit between his shoulder blade and shoulder, passed cleanly without damaging anything important, and thanks to the painkillers, he was able to move almost normally if he was careful with his right arm.

Like it had been planned.

Tucker had finally managed to drag himself to the hospital in the evening, too, and although he hadn't said it out loud, Elliot had guessed it right away; he had been the prime suspect.

"You really thought I would kidnap Olivia?!" He had almost screamed, and only Munch's hand and the pain in his back had kept him from grabbing the collar of Tucker's coat.

"You need to understand, Detective, that I only followed existing leads. You would have done the same if…"

Elliot had felt his headache getting worse by the second, and it had taken all his willpower to keep himself under control. He couldn't get into trouble now; he had much more important things to do. There was no sign of Olivia, or Father, or the gray Mitsubishi, and just thinking about it made his panic grow so quickly that it stopped his breathing. He knew that only one quick interview from his hospital bed wasn't enough, but as long as he got his partner back, he would be able sit through interviews for a month.

He was a victim, but everyone had known that if they didn't let Elliot leave the hospital, he would escape on his own. So when the clock struck a little after 8 in the morning, they got into the car that Munch had rented, and started driving back to the place he had spent almost a month. The radio was playing quietly, neither of them said anything, and worry was gripping Elliot's chest like someone was sitting on it.

Eventually, however, Munch could not remain silent.

"So..." He cleared his throat, but didn't cause any kind of reaction in his colleague, who seemed completely immersed in his own world. "I could ask if you slept well, but that's corny, and I already know the answer."

No reaction.

Munch bit his lip. "Listen, man, uh… It was Tucker's own idea and own line of inquiry to suspect you. Fin and Cragen and I knew all along that you wouldn't hurt Liv."

"Thanks," Elliot muttered, keeping his eyes on the road. "I... I appreciate it."

"We know that you love her, and you wouldn't..." Munch's voice trailed off, and out of the corner of his eye he saw how Elliot's eyes filled with tears. For a moment they drove in silence, Munch thought he had crossed the line, but then he heard a quiet voice:

"She means the world to me, John. She… I… I can't lose her."

"You won't," Munch answered, this time in a more confident voice. "Besides, if I understood correctly, he is only interested in the baby, not so much Olivia. His primary goal is to get the baby into the world healthy and sell it, so he can't…"

"My baby," for the first time since getting into the car, Elliot turned to look at him. "It's my baby."

"Yeah, sorry," Munch sighed. "Your baby."

And then they fell silent again, and in his mind Munch shook his head. He had no idea what Elliot and Olivia felt about their future child, which clearly was anything but planned, but he didn't want to fish for any more information at the moment.

Elliot seemed to read his thoughts though, as he opened his mouth again and said in a low but firm voice:

"Listen, I know what you're thinking. No, the baby wasn't planned. No, the circumstances are not optimal, far from it. But it's our baby, and I… We love it more than anything, no matter what. The reason Olivia hasn't already run away from wherever Father is keeping her is because she doesn't want to risk the baby's safety. She, like me, would do anything for it."

Munch glanced at his colleague sitting next to him, whose blue eyes had suddenly filled with determination, and he nodded and sighed deeply.

"I know. I just didn't want to jump to conclusions."

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, I… I understand. Not exactly the simplest situation."

"You said it," Fin turned the blinker to the right. "But like they say, 'nothing is so bad that it's not good for something'. And if there's one thing I can be sure of, it's this: that lil' Benson-Stabler couldn't get better parents."

And Elliot didn't answer anything, just imperceptibly wiped away the tear that rolled down his cheek.