Author's Note: I keep wanting to call Jet Raven. It must be the hair.

Holding Out for a Hero

Chapter Three

Part One

Elliot jolted upright at the sound of his cell phone going off, and it was a number he didn't recognize. He glanced at the time while rubbing his eyes. Four-thirty. Whoever was calling at this hour, it must be important. But the news would be bad, because nobody called at this time of day with good news.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Stabler?" said an unfamiliar woman's voice.

"Yeah, who is this?"

"Amanda Rollins." It took him a moment to process things with his groggy mind, but he knew something serious was going on because Amanda would have no reason to contact him otherwise. But before he could acknowledge the former detective, she said hurriedly, "Listen, Olivia's gone missing. I got a call from Noah around four, saying he woke up and she wasn't there. He said she must have never come home, because she always comes in and kisses him goodnight, even when she gets in late."

"Wh-what?" Alarms starting going off inside him, screaming, Get up now!

He obeyed the internal voice and started putting on his pants as Amanda elaborated. "Noah's scared, because she never does this. I've tried calling around and nobody has seen her since this morning, and then I thought of you, that maybe you would know something."

"Noah's right," he said, trying to slip a hoodie on while still talking on speaker. "She would never do anything like this to him. I'm going to go look for her right now."

"Where? I don't even know where to start." Amanda's voice took on a high-pitched tone that told him she was just as anxious as he was to find her.

"I'm going to go to the last place I saw her."

"Which is…?

"A therapist she's seeing."

There was silence on the other end, until Elliot slipped on his tennis shoes. Then she said, "Okay, you do that. I'm going go watch Noah."

Having set the plans, he drove like a madman in his car to Dr. Wagner's office, hoping another cop didn't pull him over—he couldn't stand the thought of being slowed down. He slid to a stop in front of the building and ran to the doors only to find them locked. Looking in through the glass, he didn't see any lights on in the building either. Since Dr. Wagner's office was on the first floor, he walked around the edge of the building and peered in all the windows, but everything was dark. He huffed, having no idea where to go from here. If she was in trouble, it might take him days to find her, and by then it could be too late.

His only option at the moment was to travel the way she had run earlier today, and look for her until daylight, when he could talk to Jet and get her help in the search. Hopefully he wouldn't be too late for whatever was happening to her.

Part Two

Olivia moaned at the sound of a man's voice, as she tried to wake up enough to understand what he was saying. At first, she didn't remember where she was, only aware of the board-like surface under her back.

"I said get up!"

She blocked out a bright light with her hands over her eyes, and memories started flowing back to her. The park bench that seemed to hold onto her like a fly trap. The sudden rain shower that drenched her, calling for her to get up and straggle home. The way her eyelids closed involuntarily before she could get out of her stupor long enough to stand.

A sharp, searing pain surged through her leg, and she realized too late that she was under assault. She sat up and drew her arms up to cover her head in pure instinct. Whoever had hit her wasn't satisfied with her reaction, and he struck her again in her ribs. She squealed, but as she felt the woosh of the air as the stick came toward her again, she grabbed it this time and used the momentum to yank the person holding it to the ground. But as she stood up to run, she heard the voice say, "Stop! Police!"

She froze. This was a uniformed officer hitting her, probably thinking she was a homeless woman that he could beat into submission. She held her hands up.

"Stop!" she shouted. "I'm with—"

But the officer didn't let her finish, and instead shot something at her. A jolt of electricity pulsed through her, paralyzing her and sending her crashing to the ground. She had been through taser training, had experienced the feeling before, but she had been prepared last time. Now her body jerked and writhed against her will, and she thought her heart might burst if he didn't stop. And then it was over, and she lay there, helpless and unmoving.

"Oh, God," she murmured. "Did you have to do that?"

Before she finished he was on top of her, rolling her onto her stomach so he could get cuffs on her. "Just shut up and stay still."

"Okay, okay," she whispered.

"Hey!" a familiar voice yelled. It only took a split second for her to recognize him, and she felt like she could breathe again. "Stop! That's an NYPD captain you've got there!"

"Stay back!" The officer yanked against her handcuffs, jerking her arms in a way that sent needles of sharp pain into her wrists and then up through her arms. She groaned. Elliot must have stopped in his tracks, because the cop said, "You're full of shit! She's just some homeless garbage."

She rolled her head to the side just in time to see Elliot whip out his badge faster than the cop could move toward his gun. "I'm NYPD too," he said. "Detective Stabler."

The cop stood now, while Olivia went limp on the ground, finally able to relax without a full-grown man putting his weight on her.

"Well then, what's she doing sleeping on a park bench?"

"I don't know, but I can vouch that that's the captain of Manhattan SVU."

The officer pulled her roughly to her feet, cocking his head while examining her for any signs that she was a high-ranking officer. She knew she must look like scum, but she grit her teeth at the thought that any cop would treat a homeless person that way.

He escorted her to his car with Elliot hot on his heels. "I still have to call it in. What's your name, lady?"

"Olivia Benson," she said quietly, staring at the ground. This had to be one of the most humiliating moments of her life. She didn't know if she would be able to explain why she did what she did tonight, especially to a low-level uniform. She decided to exercise her right to remain silent, to him and to Elliot.

A breeze from Elliot's voice in her ear sent a buzz through her hair and into her scalp. "You okay, Liv?"

She nodded and gulped hard, trying to hold back tears. The officer said, "You got ID?"

"In my pocket," she said, her voice shaking.

He reached in and got it, and then he called dispatch. Within a few minutes, he took the cuffs off her wrists. "It all checks out, Captain Benson. You're free to go."

The puzzled look on his face told her he wanted answers to several questions, but he glanced at her twice and then hurriedly descended into his car, leaving her alone with Elliot. She tried to think of an explanation.

He stared at the side of her face and placed a hand on her back before snatching it away. She could only imagine the mix of emotions he must be cycling through at this moment, not knowing whether to go off on her or comfort her. She felt the same about herself.

"You want a ride home now?" he said.

"Yeah," she said, the corners of her lips turning down.

They got into his car without a word, and the ride started out in silence. She wished it would stay that way, not knowing what to say to him and too exhausted anyway.

She knew he would break the silence first, and she was right. "Liv—" She didn't blame him for stumbling over his own words. Finally, he managed to get out, "What's going on with you?"

She shook her head and stared out at the trees flying by in a blur, her eyes fogging up with tears. Her stomach churned, and she was afraid that if she said anything, she would break into sobs, and she was tired of crying. She steeled herself and decided to be honest. "I don't know."

He couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice. "Come on, Liv. If you can't tell me, you gotta at least tell someone. Obviously something's happening, and I think it has something to do with you dating that psychiatrist, and obviously whatever's going on is affecting your life pretty dramatically. You left Noah alone—"

"I know! Okay? I know I've fucked up, and I deserve whatever happens to me. But please—" Her voice cracked. "Whatever you do, whatever you tell people, please just leave Noah out of it. I can't lose him."

"I'm trying, Liv. But you're not just doing—whatever it is you're doing—to yourself. You're endangering your son."

She sucked in a sob. His voice softened. "And I know that's not like you. Which tells me that you're in some sort of distress, and you need help."

She covered her eyes. "I—" She wanted to tell him everything, but her thoughts went fuzzy whenever she tried to remember what was bothering her so bad. So bad that it had cast her into a tailspin. "I can't…I can't tell you. I just can't. And I don't even know why. I wish I could tell you everything. But I don't even know."

What she had just said made no sense, she knew, and she wouldn't blame him at all if he fell into an angry rant. To her surprise, he touched her shoulder, and she melted into the seat, letting all the tension drain from her. But she still couldn't look at him.

As he stopped the car in front of her building, he said, "Does it have something to do with Dr. Wagner? And your relationship with him?"

She shook her head, trying to think of the words to explain it, but she didn't understand it at all, and her thoughts all tangled up in a tornado of madness. "I can't answer that, Elliot. I just can't talk about it. I can't explain why—I just feel like I'm going mad."

The final words hit her down to her core like a truck-load of bricks, and she had to break down and let her tears out like a torrent. Elliot put his arm around her and pulled her to him, and she caved and let herself bury her face into his shoulder. When he tucked her head under his chin, her body shook with the release of all the grit and grime of the past few days.

"It's okay," he said. She knew she didn't deserve the gentleness of his voice, but she succumbed to the tightness of his grip around her and shivered. "We'll figure out what's going on, Liv. I'm going to find out, one way or another."

Part Three

A warm draft of air greeted Elliot and Olivia as they entered her apartment building, giving a welcome burst of relief from the chilled breeze outside. Elliot could only imagine how cold she must be, having subjected herself to a night of frigid rain on a park bench. He kept his arm around her, hoping she was able to receive his touch as warm and comforting and not intrusive in any way. Dr. Wagner had done something to her. She wouldn't say it, but he could feel it in the way she trembled, even inside the over-heated building.

He held her in the elevator, and she submitted, willingly folding into his arms, her head tucked safely against his shoulder. Every rational thought told him he should be pissed at her for acting the way she was, and for keeping her relationship with the shrink from him. But the folding waves in his gut told him that she was being subjected to something more sinister, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it, with or without her help.

Noah warily greeted her when she entered her apartment, then fully embraced her when she held open her arms to him. She didn't tell him anything, just muttered, "I'm sorry," and slunk into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Amanda watched the whole scene play out, and then shot Elliot a look and folded her arms at the fact that Olivia had barely acknowledged her. After Elliot made sure Noah returned to bed, with the promise of a day off from school for missing so much sleep, he pulled Amanda out into the hallway.

"What's going on?" Amanda said.

"I…I don't know, exactly."

A crease formed in Amanda's forehead. "Well, what did she say?"

"Nothing. But that's just the thing. She keeps telling me there's something she can't tell me."

"Elliot, that makes no sense."

"I know. It doesn't to me either. Look, you have ties to the mental health community with your job, right?"

An irritation crept into her voice. "Elliot, just tell me what's happening. You must know something."

He looked her straight in the face so she could see he was sincere. "Look, there are things I can't tell you yet, until I know more about the situation. But can you do me a favor and find out about a psychiatrist here in Manhattan?"

"Whatever you need. What's his name?"

"Dr. Mark Wagner."

"I guess. I wish you'd tell me more though."

"I would if I knew more. Thanks, Amanda." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm hoping whatever you find out will help us to help her."

"Me too. You going home now?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "Nah. I want to stay here until I know she's okay."

After Amanda left, he went back into her place and tapped on her bedroom door. "Liv? You awake?"

"Come in." Her muffled response made him pause, but he cracked open the door and peeked in. She was buried under the covers.

With trepidation, he approached her, and after a moment debating how he should handle the situation without over-stepping her limits, he sat on the edge of the bed. "Sure you're okay?" He whispered to avoid waking Noah. "I'd feel better if you get checked out at the hospital."

"I don't feel like anything's broken."

She reached out to grab his hand, and he sighed in relief. What could bring a beautiful woman so powerful and courageous as her to this trembling mess in the bed? Had she been assaulted? If Dr. Wagner had done that, she wouldn't keep it a secret. Had he used her? Broken her heart? He might drive himself mad if he kept trying to figure it all out, and he wasn't going to get any answers tonight.

He stood to leave, but her voice in the darkness stopped him. "Elliot." She took on an edge of urgency. "Don't leave. Please."

He stared at her outline, which formed a small mass, with her knees drawn up toward her chest, as if to protect herself. She seemed so vulnerable like that. He almost had to turn away to avoid the sight of her, because he might break down himself. Instead, he settled in next to her, lying down on top of the covers so there could be no mistaking his intent. His movements were small and gentle, easing toward her, as if he might break her like an egg. At first, he placed a gentle hand on her side, wanting to disturb her as little as possible. But she grasped his arm and pulled it around her, and he drew towards her until he had her cradled against him, nestled into his chest, and now he could smell her rain-tinted hair and hear her lips as they pressed into his neck.

He knew this was all she wanted right now, and he wondered why it hadn't been sooner. He had wanted this all these years, he now realized, and he wanted to smack himself for not acting earlier. He should have divorced Kathy and gone with his true feelings. His wife had known how he felt about Olivia—that's why she made him write the letter. But he had a loyal streak in him that wouldn't quit, and the soft yet firm figure that he now enveloped in his arms had paid the price.

When he ran his hand over her downy hair, he knew that he loved her. And he wasn't going to let her go again, not if his life depended on it, because he would rather die than lose her.