Author's Note: Yes, the doc survived. I have plans…

Sorry it's taken me so long, and it's a shorter chapter. I've written so many hospital scenes, it was hard to come up with something new.

Holding Out for a Hero

Chapter Five

Part One

When Elliot was sitting in the car listening to Olivia's "session" with Dr. Wagner, he knew right away that his theory had been correct. As soon as Dr. Wagner told her to take off her clothes, Elliot leapt out of the car, because he knew the creep had her under his control, and he had to stop this whole sordid thing from going any further.

Amanda had been close behind him; he could hear her desperate footsteps quickening to keep up with him. By the time they burst through the doctor's door, it was almost too late. She was obviously in some kind of trance, he could tell by the way she stared straight ahead with her eyelids half-closed. Quickly, he scanned the scene—her crouching over him, sans clothes, ready to go all the way as soon as the doctor gave the command. Elliot didn't wait to see what was going to happen next. He charged straight to her and grabbed her by the waist, yanking her backwards. Ask forgiveness, not permission.

He was too busy yelling at the doctor to notice what was going on with her. Amanda was with her and would take care of her, but Elliot had to deal with this scumbag and keep him from saying anything else to her. Once the pathetic excuse for a man shut his mouth, Elliot wanted nothing more than to pounce on him and shut him up for good. Every time he looked at the guy, he thought of slamming the butt of his gun into the man's skull, and he was afraid that he might not be able to stop himself.

But when he glanced at Olivia, he noticed she was still locked into a blank stare, and he knew she hadn't shaken off the hypnogogic state yet. He shouted at the doctor to release her, and as soon as the man uttered the right words, Elliot heard a sound come from Olivia that he had never heard come from her lips before—a mournful wail, soulful and low.

Now more than ever, he wanted to pound on the doctor until the man could no longer breathe out of his creepy face. Elliot went to Olivia instead, before he lost control and did something to Wagner that he would regret later. Once Amanda was there to cover the dirtbag, Elliot crouched by Olivia, and nearly crumpled into her in a shared moment of tumult.

I have to keep it together, he thought, for her sake.

She was in a heap on the floor, a blanket swallowing her in nearly a perfect silhouette, making her look like a masterpiece—a work of art, one of those weeping angels one would find in a Parisian museum. He didn't want to touch her, afraid she might break into a million pieces.

At first he just consoled her verbally, trying not let his voice crack. The reality of the situation must be hitting her fully at last, and it would be unbearable to her. This was her expertise, and it would make it all the harder for her to bear the fact that she had just now become a victim. She would blame herself, of course, that was how she was. And that would add even more weight to the boulder already sitting on top of her.

He didn't know what to say to her, so he stopped trying. Instead, he knelt next to her and touched her hair, hoping that his touch wouldn't overwhelm her. She didn't pull away, didn't shrink from him, and so he pet her head softly, stroking it until she showed signs of softening, even if she couldn't stop crying.

He decided to try and pull her to him so he could hold her, because she seemed so all alone in her agonizing nudity, with only a thin blanket hiding her from the punishing atmosphere. Knowing now that touching her wouldn't crack her open, he tugged gently on her shoulder, and she gave, her body bending toward him until her head rested against him. How cruel, he thought. How painfully punishing for her to be compelled to contribute to her own assault. He buried his fingers in her hair, resting his chin on her head, already deciding that nobody would be allowed to interact with her without going through him first. He hadn't protected her from Wagner before, so it was up to him to repent by wall her off her from anyone else who might emotionally drain her.

So he was determined to get her out of there before the turmoil of an investigation set in. Nearly too late, he heard sirens outside. He held her with a tight grip around her shoulders, and kissed her one last time before whispering, "Time to go, Liv. Are you okay to walk?"

Her head looked heavy, but she lifted it enough to tell him, "Yeah."

And then she pulled large tangles of hair out of her face and wiped her cheek before trying to stand. He helped her to her feet, and caught her as her knees buckled. "You okay?"

She nodded, but then she glanced up, and when she saw Wagner sitting with Amanda's gun pointed at him, her face crumpled, and he turned her away from him. "Come on," he said softly.

Police officers came in, and she adjusted the blanket and held it close to her. "Suspect is back there," Elliot said to the cops, and then to her, "Let's take my car."

She nodded. They had to pass several officers and medics as he led her out, and he had to back everyone off of her so she didn't have to go through endless questioning. With each strained step, she stared straight ahead, her eyes haunted and hollow.

Fin appeared at the front door right as they reached it, and he swung the door open and said, "Someone want to tell me—"

Elliot silenced him with a shake of his head, and Fin looked at him, and then Olivia, and stood for a second with his mouth open. "You okay, Liv?"

She glanced at him and looked away, and Elliot mouthed, "Call you later." And then he guided her out the door.

Her blanket dragged the ground as they left the building, gathering dirt and wet leaves as she walked. The wind had a bite to it, and he pulled the throw even tighter around her, because her whole body shook. The walk to the car involved lots of silent prayers that she would make it to the car, and that she wouldn't stumble and drop the only thing holding her dignity together and keeping the outside world from seeing her secret shame.

But she was steady, looking like she was gliding because of the way the edge of the blanket dragged over the surface of the parking lot. She ignored the paramedics and the officers, keeping her eyes glued to her target—his car. He opened the door and helped her in, and then picked up her feet and placing them on the floormat.

When he got in and closed his door, the silence smothered him, accenting the unspeakable strife of the moment. Other than an occasional sniffle, she had stopped crying and was now staring off into the distance out the passenger-side window. He didn't know what he could possibly say to make her feel better, so he just focused on driving, glancing over at her occasionally.

She didn't want to talk, and he understood that. He couldn't think of another time when he'd seen her so vulnerable. Apparently, according to Fin, she'd gone through some horrific ordeals while he'd been gone, and he hadn't been there for her then. But maybe that was a good thing, because if he'd seen the despair in her then that he saw today, he might not have been able to handle it.

When he was with Kathy, they stayed out of the deep emotional stuff. When things got tough, his response was to run away, get involved with his job, so that he wouldn't have to deal with "real" problems like people he loved having breakdowns. And honestly, a part of him felt like running right now. It was almost like her pain was too great for him to handle, like he might break in half if he caught another glance at her crestfallen stare. But he was determined to stick things out now, because she had been there when he was at his lowest, and she deserved support from him now.

When they pulled up to the ER, he started to get out to open the door for her, and she grabbed his wrist. Her eyes wild, she said, "I don't want to do this."

He knew what she meant by 'do this'. Getting a rape kit done was not an easy process, and it involved hours of having pictures taken, samples of the body extracted, people touching the most private of areas, after already being assaulted. He tensed up thinking of her going through it, but said, "You know it's the only way you'll get justice."

"But will I really? It's a long-shot, El." Her voice trembled. "He's going to say I consented. And he'll probably win."

"We don't know that." Her gaze slipped down to the floor. "Look, Liv. You know you don't have to do this. But it's your only chance, and you can't come back later if you change your mind."

"I know," she said so softly that he barely heard her. Her grasp of his wrist tightened. "Just don't leave me."

She looked at him again, her pleading eyes so desperate that he would do anything to drain the sadness in them. "I won't." He touched her shoulder. "I promise."

Part Two

Elliot took a sip from his coffee and thought how it needed to be stronger. This afternoon had been draining, and the sun was starting to fade, casting a blinding reflection through a nearby window. He refilled his cup and didn't add anything else before he started trying to drink without burning his tongue. "Stabler."

He looked up just in time to see Carisi before some of the brown liquid splashed over the side of the cup and onto his shirt. "Oh, sorry," Carisi said, pulling a napkin out of his briefcase. "Here."

"Thanks." Elliot barely brushed at his shirt. What did a little spilt coffee mean when Olivia had gone though a particularly brutal exam? She'd stared at the ceiling and clasped his hand, but the grimace on her face and the wetness at the corners of her eyes told him she was trying to put on a brave face. He shook away the memory.

"Elliot, what did you guys do?"

"What are you talking about? We caught a criminal."

"Would have been nice if you'd checked with me beforehand."

Elliot steeled himself. He'd done the only thing he knew to take that madman away from Olivia, aside from shoving his gun in the guy's mouth and pulling the trigger. Which, to be honest, had been his first plan. "No offense, but you have no idea the situation we were facing, Carisi."

"Well, my wife did fill me in on some of it. Believe me, I'm not happy with her either."

"Well then you know, we had to act fast, or Liv may have been made to do things she didn't want to do again."

Carisi went silent for a moment, and then said, "How is she, by the way?"

"Not great. Not great at all. But she'll survive. There's nothing wrong with her physically, and that's part of the problem."

They both knew that the lack of evidence of a struggle could sink the state's case. Carisi clunked his briefcase on the floor before pouring himself a cup. "Yeah, and it's not the only problem. I listened to the recording. I don't know if I can get a conviction on that. There's no way to know from listening to that whether or not she consented, or even if she was hypnotized at the time."

Elliot shifted his feet. "But with her testimony…"

"And the testimony of a respected mental health professional. It's his word against hers."

Heat dashed through Elliot's veins and straight to his face. "So I was supposed to do nothing?"

Carisi's volume rose. "No, but maybe we could have staged it a little differently so we could get more. A video would have been good."

Elliot took a step towards Carisi, feeling especially protective of Olivia. "Oh, and create more humiliation for her?"

"No, but—"

"Hey, hey, hey. None of that."

For the first time, Elliot noticed Amanda approaching, and he looked away and rubbed his face.

"We need to pull together, for her sake," Amanda said, softer now.

A thought invaded Elliot's mind, a flash of a memory, of her defeated look right after the exam was finished. They had brought in a sedative to give her before that, and he could tell by the way her eyes drooped that it was taking effect. She wasn't saying much, but he knew she must have some disturbing memories surfacing, because she couldn't get comfortable in the bed and shifted and tossed, despite the drugs they'd given her.

"Yeah, I know," Elliot said, "but we can't help her by getting all pessimistic about the chances of a conviction."

No longer interested in what Carisi had to say, Elliot walked away and back into Olivia's room.

Part Three

Olivia sat on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling, a thin blanket over her lap, her too-big hospital gown slipping off one shoulder. Elliot quickened his pace toward her. "You should be sleeping."

She hung her head, her hair falling into her face. "I couldn't."

He sat down next to her without touching her or looking at her. "I hate to even ask this question because it's stupid, but…are you going to be okay?"

She didn't answer, just stared down at her hands in her lap.

"I hope…" The sheet over her rustled, and he wanted so bad to reach out and keep her hand warm while he spoke to her, almost for the first time since he'd busted into Wagner's office. "I hope you aren't beating yourself up over this."

"Of course I am." He was surprised at how fast she replied. Her voice was low, and didn't sound like her. "Some part of me must have at least been okay with what he did. I mean, people can't be made to do things they don't want to do under hypnotism."

He took a handful of sheets in his fist, horrified that she could blame herself. And then he realized he had also thought it her fault at one point, when he thought that she was having an affair with this man. The blood drained from his face. He had to make up to her for thinking that way. "Look, Liv, it really wasn't your fault. Amanda told me this is some new technique, where he used advanced manipulation tactics to get you to go along with it."

She clasped her hands over her mouth. "Oh, God."

"What?"

"Just the thought that I walked in there every single day and…" She shook her head. "I let him have his way—"

"Liv—"

"No, I didn't let him—I actively participated. I went to him. I undressed myself. I…"

She stopped with a gasp. She looked so small sitting there, her head in her hands. He couldn't help himself anymore, and put his hand on her back, rubbing small circles. "It's okay, Liv. Why don't you lie down and get some rest. They said you could go home in a few minutes after they run some tests. Maybe you can get in a short nap. You look exhausted."

She ignored him. "I was so stupid. And so…trusting. What is wrong with me?"

"Is that what you would tell someone else in your situation?"

But she didn't respond, and it made him realize she wasn't really there with him completely. She was still lost back in that room, and probably living out some of the other times she'd been attacked as well. But he didn't know how to get through to her.

Slowly, she began to lean into him, and her fingers touched his cold arm. He sat perfectly still as she rested against him, her head tilting to the side until it nestled against his shoulder. A warmth penetrated his chest, and he touched her hair softly.

"Thank you El," she said into his shirt. "For being here for me."

"Of course." He gently stroked her cheek, and then stood so he could lay her down in the bed, because he could tell from the way her body began to go limp that she was fading. He kissed her forehead. "I wouldn't be anywhere else. Just remember that, Liv, because I…I love you"

But she had already drifted to sleep, or at least that's how it appeared to him. "Sleep tight," he whispered, and pulled her blanket up and tucked it under her chin, just before kissing her on the cheek.