Hell Hath No Fury
Chapter 1: Thanks For Last Night
A/N: Last Installment to the Redeeming Olivia rated T but will occasionally go higher, if you're not eighteen, you know the drill. I don't own anything related to SVU, so go ahead and try to sue me…I got nothing. If you haven't read Redeeming Olivia, When I Lay My Baby Down or Divided We Fall, this will be about as frustrating as Benson and Stablers current inability to work together on the show. Enjoy and thanks for flying Chronicleofabutterfly.
She couldn't breath, she was certain she would die from lack of oxygen but she pushed herself to keep running, she thought the house was only a couple of hundred yards to the south, but she'd been running hard, running because she knew that even though she couldn't see the man that was chasing her, he was going to kill her if he caught up with her.
She leaped over the log only to have her bare foot catch on a limb from the ground falling to her face, her gun digging into her hip. She found it odd that she was wearing it, but she didn't want to stop and hide, even though the cop within her told her that was the best course of action, to stop, hide, and shoot the man that broke into her home while she was napping and chased her outside, down the country street and into the woods where she thought she was trailing back to the house, but the more she looked at he scenery, the denser the trees became; she knew she was heading in the wrong direction, and the crackling and snapping of the foot steps behind her told her she needed to get up out of the mud and run harder.
She stood, just in time to feel a hand grab a fist full of her hair and shove her back into the ground, stomping a foot into the small of her back causing her to scream out in agony, she rolled over onto her throbbing back, felt the coolness of the mud seep into her as she reached for her gun only to find that somewhere between falling and being shoved down again, it had become unholstered.
Her eyes widened in horror as he brought his foot up again to stomp her belly, "NO!" She barked instantly curling into a ball to protect her abdomen, feeling the boot collide with her rib cage the unmistakable sound of bones snapping from the pressure. She reached for anything to protect herself, her baby; her hands trailed through the mud, colliding only with rocks and pebbles. She felt the boot again, making contact with her shoulder and then all she could fell was the hand holding her face into the mud.
He body mustered all of its energy to fight back, to somehow manage to get her face free so she could take in air. He rolled her over on her back again, stomping her abdomen as she fought for breath. Again and again, until she pulled her knees up to protect herself, the agony was tremendous.
She felt him kneel beside her; she saw her own gun being wielded in his hand as he smiled at her, "No more bastard children, Olivia, no more bad genes." He grinned pistol-whipping her just hard enough to daze her but not hard enough to knock her unconscious. She could tell he wanted her awake for this, for whatever he was going to do.
She rolled to her stomach, crawled painfully on her belly, "El," she called out weakly, "El…help me."
"You're a whore…no one saves whores." The voice laughed and bent down to grab her hair and pull her up just enough to arch her back and cause her to moan in pain, "Say it…say 'I'm a whore'."
She coughed from the pain in her ribs, "You're a whore." She mumbled, a faint smile grazing her lips in spite of the pain, until she felt the boot in her lower back again, her back still arched as if he were trying to snap her spine in half, he yelled at her again, "SAY IT! Call your self a whore, admit it to me!" He yelled jerking her head by the hair her held in his hand as he raised the barrel of her own weapon to her temple.
She gasped for air, "El…iot."
"SAY IT!" he barked again pulling the hammer back,
She coughed, felt the blood come up from her throat, "I'm…a whore." She whispered.
"LOUDER!" He yelled pressing the gun harder against her until she finally yelled the forced confession.
"Good girl." He smiled through his ski mask, "Good girl." He let go of her hair and she suddenly felt the barrel of her gun tracing her body, "Olivia," the sadistic voice was dripping with evilness, "Do you know what every cops worst fear is?"
She moaned, tried to crawl only to find that she could barely take in breath, she felt the barrel at the back of her knee.
"It's to somehow injure their knee." He chuckled evilly, "The department lets them go immediately, no more chasing perps." He smiled, stood up and pulled the trigger.
The immense pain, of having a bullet rip through one of the most imperative joints in her body was excruciating, in fact, she knew if she had the gun in her hand right now, she'd probably kill herself for the sole purpose of getting rid of the pain. She could do nothing more than scream, in agony as he laughed and kicked her over to her back, the mangled knee spewing out blood, spewing out her life ounce my ounce. "Ell…iot." She gasped again, "p…please…come."
He stood over her, straddled her injured knee putting his weight on it for the sole purpose of seeing her cringe, scream, and writhe in pain, teeth bared, eyes rolling back from the pain, "Do you know what the biggest fear for any soccer player is?" he laughed again.
"El…help me." she gasped the blood from her lungs causing her to cough and struggle.
"Every soccer player fears a femoral injury, puts them out for the season…sometimes permanently." He grinned standing to his feet and shooting her in her femur on the opposite leg rendering her immobile save her arms, which, as he sat on her abdomen and spouted off something about every violinists fear, she knew were the next limbs in his sight. She struggled under his weight, her hands roaming the cool earth until it collided with the same branch her bare foot had snapped in half only minutes ago.
He grabbed her face the barrel of the gun digging into her elbow as she struggled for the branch on the other side, she stared at him, tried to gather clues in spite of the ski mask, and just as he was about to stand, her body contracted, her hand lunged with all of her might, shoving the sharp part of the branch into the side of his neck.
The gun dropped in an instant, she fumbled for it as he staggered back gasping for air as blood seeped out between his fingers; she pulled the trigger only to see that somehow the magazine had become dislodged. Instinctively, she cleared the weapon, a hard slap to the butt of the weapon, and quick pull of the slide back wards and in a single instant she ended a man's life.
He stumbled, fell to his knees and then forward onto her aching body, his head landing at her breast, in a moment of terror, in a moment of feeling his body over hers she shot into him again…again…again until there was nothing that could be heard except the clicking of an empty Beretta and her frustrated sobs that culminated into frantic screams until moments later she was exhausted.
She stared at the demon that lay on her, her body temporarily numb from shock and adrenaline, she reached down and pulled the mask off. Her eyes widened in disbelief as distant blue eyes starred back at her, her dead husband, her Elliot, the one she'd called for…she'd murdered him.
Elliot woke to the ear-curdling scream of his wife next to him, her body sitting straight up in the bed; he shook her his hands finding it difficult to hold her through the sweat, "Liv…Liv wake up!"
In a moment of utter confusion, just as her eyes met his she fought, struggled for freedom, "NO!" she pushed at him, tried to gain liberation, "Who are you? Let me go!" She barked pulling away so forcefully that she'd literally pushed herself off of the bed, pushing herself on her hands and feet, crawling backwards, starring at him with eyes he didn't recognize.
"Olivia…its Elliot." He told her calmly climbing out of the bed and standing over her, an action that seemed to evoke more fear than anything else, he immediately crouched, "Olivia, honey, it was a dream…a nightmare, I'm right here."
In the darkness, lit only with the half moon from outside, he saw her eyes blink rapidly as if trying to bring both him and reality into focus at the same time, "Elliot?" she called to him in such confusion and fear that all he could do was remain still, let her gather her thoughts.
"Elliot?" She moved to her knees reached out to him and pulled him closely to her body, "El." She sobbed, kissed him frantically on the cheek, his lips, forehead, anywhere there was exposed flesh. She kneeled back felt his body, "Are you okay?"
"Me?" he furrowed his brow in confusion, "I'm fine…what's wrong?" he asked softly taking her into an embrace, "Nightmare?"
She held onto him tightly, ferocity in her grip that he hadn't experienced before, her hands still roaming his body periodically as he held onto her, searching for what, he didn't know. She sobbed into his neck, "I'm so sorry."
"What? For what Liv…it's okay, a nightmare, that's all it was." He assured her, "Look," he told her pulling her away softly, "you're okay." He smiled, gently caressing her face, only to feel that her hands were still searching his body, a pattern that they were taught in the academy when treating a gun shot victim, "I'm okay, Liv." He assured her, "Look." He encouraged her as he pulled his crew neck off of his body exposing himself to the coolness of the night, he took her hands placed them on his abdomen, "I'm okay." He whispered.
She sobbed in relief, her body heaving uncontrollably until she vomited between the both of them.
"Okay." He assured her seeing her body contract again, "he pulled her up quickly using his shirt to cover another potential mishap, he held it under her mouth and took her to the bathroom quickly, helping her kneel just in time for another round, tears stained her face, her body shook with a fear, that he hadn't seen from her since…we'll, he'd never seen it.
He kneeled next to her, stroked her back softly, "Morning sickness or nerves?" he asked softly.
"Umm," She shook her head unwilling to communicate at that specific time.
"Okay…okay." He kissed her temple softly, "Want your toothbrush?"
She nodded weakly in affirmation.
He prepared it as she stood to her feet, brows furrowed she accepted it and brushed vigorously before spitting and reaching for Listerine. He was about to turn from her as she rinsed her mouth when she reached for him, took hold of his waistband and kept him close to her, fingers still against flesh as she spit, rinsed the sink and slowly looked at herself in the mirror, exhaustion, frustration and alarm written across her features. "Elliot."
He embraced her warmly, tenderly and rested his chin on her shoulder; "Want to tell me about it?"
"No." She sniffled turning to face him, her hands on his body, "I'm sorry." She whispered again.
She shook her head in disagreement, not able to say that she'd killed him, that her subconscious had developed a scenario so opposite of who and what they were that it literally made her sick to her stomach.
He rested his hand on her stomach, "Baby?"
She paused as if trying to establish a connection with the tiny life inside of her; she shook her head softly avoiding his gaze, "Good."
He caressed her face, made her look at him, her watery eyes telling him much more than her just having a nightmare, there was a terror there, a hurt and…dare he say a betrayal? He tucked her hair behind her ears, kissed her lips softly, surprised when she returned the kiss, searching him with a frantic since of need and at the same time a tenderness that only she could have.
She wrapped her hands around his neck, deepening the kiss as if she were a lover who had wondered and was just blessed with forgiveness, as if she'd thought she might of never seen him again.
She separated only for oxygen, panted and fought for air as she sniffled against his shoulder, "I'm so tired." She whispered.
"Okay." He whispered, "Let's get you showered and changed." He ran her shower water as she stripped in silence, he found it odd that she kept looking at her body, feeling her knee as if trying to correct a memory. He helped her into the shower, "Take as long as you need, I'm gonna clean up out here, and I'll be back okay?"
She nodded slightly, letting the shower caress her body, caress her and wash her fears down the drain. He closed the door, took a deep breath and retreated to clean up the mishap in the bedroom, he retrieved one of his shirts to let her sleep in knowing it would comfort her, placed a pair of panties on top of the shirt and pulled himself some boxers and a fresh shirt our of the drawer.
He let himself into the restroom deposited his clothes into the hamper and opening the shower door to see her still shaking, starring down at her hands as if they'd just committed some heinous act, "Liv." He stepped under the stream to find that it hand run ice cold. "Olivia." He moved her quickly out of the stream and adjusted the water to warm feeling his own body protest at the cool temperature, she was ice to his comfort as he pulled her back to him, "Come on, under the water, get warm." He told her softly.
"I'm sorry." She shook her head again.
"For what?" he asked hoping she would finally confess, knowing if it had her this wound up, she wasn't going to.
She leaned back into his embrace, let the warmth of the water bring her back into normalcy as he held her, she remained quiet, touching him softly from time to time, a small sob escaping here and there, until he'd turned the water off and handed her a towel. "Come on, your pajamas are on the sink." He whispered to her helping her out and kissing her softly on the cheek.
She dressed herself in a silence that was making him grow more and more concerned, she'd had nightmares before, had dreams where she woke up in a sweat, but in the last two months, they were intense, this one the worst by far, she wasn't gonna talk about it, at least not now. He brushed her hair softly, combing it straight back, a look that was incredibly sexy on her, but he didn't feel the need to tell her that right now, he'd keep it to himself, share it with her later.
He changed, feeling the warmth of cotton caress his body, he took her hand, let her slip into bed as he pulled the comforter over her, a small kiss given to her before sliding in next to her, pulling her close to him, and then even closer, his hand on her abdomen, "Want to talk about it?" he asked softly.
"No." She sniffled pulling his arms tighter around her body.
"Okay…when you're ready?"
She shook her head affirming his question before she started to cry softly again. He held her tight, feeling her body finally relax into sleep after several minutes. He laid awake until the sun rose, holding her against him, feeling her hands clutching his as if her body were subconsciously trying to tell him not to let her go, not to break contact with her.
It wasn't until there was a small knock at the door that she stirred, rubbed her eyes in exhaustion, "Good morning." Elliot whispered kissing her cheek.
"Morning." She muttered, "Is Sam at the door?"
"I think so." He smiled then heard the knock again.
Olivia raised her head slightly, "Come in, Baby."
Sam grinned bouncing into the room, "Are we still going to the park?" he asked climbing up the foot of the bed.
"Sam," Elliot spoke softly, "Your mom isn't feeli-"
"Absolutely, we're going to the park." She forced a smile and a small laugh as she sat up, "Where's my hug and kiss good morning, young man?"
Sam wedged himself between the two, hugged her tightly, a peck on her cheek before sitting between the two, oblivious to what happened during the night. "Can we go on the slide?"
"Absolutely." She smiled sadly interlacing her hands with Elliot's and struggling to keep tears hidden.
"Mom?" Sam furrowed his brows turning his face directly to hers, "What's wrong?"
"Elliot says you should always tell the truth."
Elliot pulled him onto his lap, "Your mom didn't sleep well, she's a little tired, is all."
"Sometimes I don't sleep too good." Sam informed them, "Tripod snuggles next to me and makes it better, when I'm scared…want to sleep with Tripod, Mom?"
She smiled, "No, honey, I'm okay, I've got your Daddy to snuggle to, he makes it go away."
"Good." Sam grinned, "After the park, can we go to Alex's?"
"I don't know honey," She laughed, "It's not good just to stop by unannounced."
"I called and asked, this morning." He smiled.
Olivia's eyes widened and looked at the clock, "Baby, its seven-thirty in the morning…when did you call her?"
"When I got up…I couldn't sleep."
"Honey," Olivia grinned and rolled her eyes, "What time did you get up?"
"My clock told me six thirty." He said matter of factly.
Elliot grinned, "You called Alex, at six thirty on a Saturday morning?"
"Yeah." He shrugged his shoulders, "She said we could come over…she's sad."
"What?" Elliot furrowed his brows, "She told you she was sad?"
"No…but she is, sort of like Mom, she cries but tells me she's fine, but if you cry your not fine, right Dad?" He asked in confusion.
"Sam," Olivia sat up, "When did you notice Alex was sad?"
"I don't know, maybe…how long is a week?"
"Seven days." Elliot answered.
Sam thought about it, "Maybe three of those then."
Olivia arched her brows, "She didn't say anything." She muttered, "I haven't kept in contact." She exhaled, "Shoot…dangit." She groaned.
"Robert is sad too, his voice is different when he came to get her from work."
"Okay," Olivia rubbed Sam's back, "Can you go get your backpack ready for the park, make sure your batteries to your walk-man are good, and get a bottle of juice for yourself, while we get ready?"
"Okay." He grinned and climbed off the bed as if he didn't just drop a curious bombshell on their laps.
She rested her head on his shoulder, "Thanks for last night."
"Not a problem, my offer still stands…when you want to talk."
She kissed him softly on the mouth, "Thank you."