Make the Bodies Drop [SVU; Elliot/Olivia]
TITLE: Make the Bodies Drop
CHAPTER 19
FANDOM: Law & Order: SVU
PAIRING: Elliot/Olivia
SPOILERS: Season seven-ish, pre-trilogy
RATING: R
SUMMARY:
*****
Elliot paced back and forth on the sidewalk angrily, moving to run his hands through his hair before he realized they were coated with blood -- Olivia's blood. He stomped toward the back of the ambulance parked against the curb in front of the club and grabbed the EMT's arm. "How is he." He knew, and didn't care, that there was no concern to be found in his voice.
The EMT nodded toward the interior of the ambulance, where Tony was getting his arm placed in a sling. "That gunshot wound went pretty deep. Not deep enough to kill him necessarily, but we should get him to the ER to get the bullet removed. We don't have the equipment to do that here."
"Can he walk?"
"What?"
Elliot ground out through clenched teeth, "Can. He. Walk?" with his hands on his hips, no longer concerned about the blood.
"Well..." the EMT was eyeing him warily. "Yes, he can walk, but--"
That was all Elliot needed to hear. He leaned into the ambulance and grabbed Tony's good arm, hauling him out. "He's coming with me, then."
"Detective, you can't just take him with you! He needs medical attention."
Elliot continued escorting Tony to the car, calling over his shoulder, "Yeah, and you guys checked him out. Said yourselves that he was okay to walk. That's good enough for me." He flung open the car door and not-so-gently shoved Tony down into the backseat, ignoring his shout about his shoulder as he slammed the door on him. Wryly, he mumbled, "Oops," to himself before climbing in the driver's side.
"Where the hell are we goin'?" Tony complained from the back. "My arm hurts."
"We're goin' to the precinct, asswipe. There are some questions you've gotta answer."
"Like what?"
"Like why you tried to kill my partner, for starters!" Elliot glared death at him through the rearview mirror. "Then we'll move on to Marissa and the other girls."
Tony folded his one good arm across his chest and slumped (carefully) back against the seat. "Good luck," he mumbled sarcastically.
"No pal, you're the one that's gonna need luck, because I am dangerously close to just lodging a bullet between your eyes and ending this whole thing."
"Pfft, you wouldn't."
"Don't you dare underestimate what I would and wouldn't do. Especially after you almost killed my partner."
When they arrived at the station, Elliot threw the car in park and climbed out, yanking the door open before yanking Tony out -- this time by the bad arm.
"OW! Hey, watch it you prick or I'll press charges."
Elliot grinned at him, though there was no mirth in this grin. Intense hatred was more like it. "Go right ahead," he goaded, and dragged him into the squad room.
Fin, already back at the precinct and at his desk, looked up at Elliot with wide eyes, rising to his feet. "Stabler, what the hell? Shouldn't you be at the hospital with Olivia?"
"Munch is covering her," he called, not stopping to talk as he hauled Tony straight toward the interrogation rooms. "Got some business to take care of first."
Cragen emerged from his office just before Elliot and Tony passed, and he stopped them both. "Whoa, Detective, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked calmly, but sternly.
Elliot just shrugged nonchalantly... innocently, though his eyes were a sharp, intense shade of blue. "Just taking the perp in for questioning."
Cragen studied Elliot warily for a moment, much like the EMT, before he gave Tony the once-over. "This man looks like he should be in the hospital."
"Technically, he should be in the morgue for what he's done, Captain. I just need to ask him a few simple questions." He pushed open one of the interrogation room doors and shoved Tony inside, gesturing to the table and chair. "Get in there and sit down. I'll be in in a minute."
Cragen shut the door softly and lowered his voice. "Elliot, that man -- murderer or not -- is a very dangerous shade of white right now, probably from blood loss."
Elliot slipped his hands into his pockets and shuffled one foot, just for a moment, while he gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Bullet's still in him too."
"For Christ sakes, Elliot, what are you thinking? If he dies while he's in our custody, I.A.B. is gonna be all over my ass and you know that."
Elliot glanced through the one-way mirror, clenching his jaw.
Cragen leaned toward him, trying to capture his attention again. "Elliot. Take this man to the hospital. Now."
Jaw still clenched, Elliot swallowed hard, voice suddenly clogged with barely-restrained emotion as he whispered, "I just wanna know why."
Cragen just watched him for a moment, searched his eyes, understanding shining in his own. And he nodded, patting his shoulder. "And you can ask him. Just not while he's dying of a gunshot wound -- that's gonna get you nowhere. Now bring him to the hospital."
Elliot nodded dutifully and brushed past Cragen, heading into the interrogation room to grab Tony again.
He was only gentle with him until he was out of sight of the Captain.
*****
Sounds were the first to reach her. The steady beep of a heart monitor, the hum of fluorescent lighting, a low murmur of activity beyond where she lay. Next, she felt. She felt the threadbare blanket, standard-issue, covering her legs. She felt every bone and muscle in her body screaming at her. Felt someone holding her hand. After that came taste -- iron, like she'd sucked on a piece of metal. It was most likely blood. Fourth came smell -- sterility. Bleached sheets and new tongue depressors.
Last came sight when she allowed her eyes to flutter open, and she saw the stark white ceiling tiles above her. She heard a chair squeak, someone shifting, off to her right side and she squeezed the hand that was inside hers -- a hand that was definitely not Elliot's. Still, instinctively, she called out, "El?"
"Sorry, Olivia. You've gotta settle for me," came the soft, but wry tone to her right.
She swiveled her head on the pillow, wincing at the pain that assailed her as she did so. "Munch?"
"Yeah, I'm here." He squeezed her hand gently.
She forced her eyes open a little wider and released his hand to push both of hers into the stiff mattress, pushing herself up. Her entire body seemed to groan with the movement and Munch sprang to his feet to help her, hitting the button to raise the head of her bed.
"Easy," he told her. "You took quite the beating. Probably shouldn't be moving much at all."
She frowned and felt some tension at her temple, like something was stuck there. She touched it and felt a bandage. "What happened to me?"
"Do you remember... anything?"
Olivia took a deep breath through her nose, her eyes slipping closed as she tried to remember. She remembered going into the private room and being accosted by Tony. She remembered the fight, that ended with her gun being held to her temple. She remembered Elliot breaking the door down and pointing his gun at Tony. Beyond that... nothing.
She shook her head. "I just remember the fight, and Elliot busting down the door."
"Well, Tony and Elliot took a shot at roughly the same time. Luckily, Elliot's hit first. The bullet from Tony's -- well, your -- gun grazed your temple kinda deep, but it didn't go in." Munch shook his head. "Nanometer in either direction, though, Liv..."
He left the statement dangling, but the implication was pretty clear. So she nodded. "Right."
"Not to mention because of the fight you've got plenty of cuts and bruises, and the doctor thinks you may have broken a rib."
"So that's why it hurts." She smiled ruefully.
Munch smiled slightly back and told her sincerely, "I'm just glad you're alright."
She nodded. "Where, um... where's Elliot?"
Munch raised his eyebrows. "Knowing your partner? Ahh, I'd say he's trying not to murder our perp right about now."
*****
Elliot's jaw was clenched and his pace fast as he made a beeline for the nurses' station. He just barely ground out, "Tony Valera."
One of the nurses eyed him suspiciously, seeing the blood . "I'm sorry, but it's past visiting hours, Mister--"
"Detective," he corrected her, flashing his badge, "Stabler."
The nurse gave a resigned sigh and directed him off to the left. "Room 403, Detective."
There was no thank-you as Elliot took off for Tony's room, finding him getting stitched up by a surgical intern. As soon as Tony locked eyes with him, he began frantically pointing. "No-no-no-no-no. No way, do not let that guy in here. He's the guy that did this to me," and he gestured to his injured shoulder.
Elliot rolled his eyes when he started to get a look from the intern. "Yeah, because you murdered someone, raped a couple others and almost killed my partner." He made a face. "And calm down, ya pansy-ass, I'm here to talk to you."
Tentatively, Tony nodded for the intern to leave, and Elliot stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "So I suppose you want to know why I did it."
Elliot took a seat by his bedside. "We'll get to that. First, what's your real connection to Marissa Cohen? And so help me God if I suspect for a second that you're lying to me..."
Tony nodded. "Got it. Alright, well... a little while after Carl and Marissa got engaged, she got drunk at the bar one night and told me how scared she was."
Elliot's expression remained stoic, unreadable. "Of Carl."
"No, of gettin' married. She's so young, y'know?"
"Was," Elliot corrected with a sneer. "You killed her, remember?"
Tony either didn't hear the comment or chose to ignore it. "So we both got drunk, we talked, and one thing led to another, and... you know how the story goes."
"Sure."
"So pretty soon Marissa's dropping the ring back into Carl's hand, tellin' him she needs her space or some shit and then starts shackin' up with me! Which is great to start out, but then--"
"But then she starts talkin' future and it starts to cramp your style, right?"
"Exactly! I mean, I'm a bartender, I gotta kinda be... available."
Elliot frowned. "You're a bartender at a strip club. Who the hell do you have to be available for?"
"Y'know, the dancers. Comin' to me with their guy problems, flirting when they're waiting for drink orders... that kinda stuff."
"Uh-huh."
"Anyway, Marissa didn't like that, so she took off and went back to Carl."
"But you weren't a fan of that idea."
"Look, Marissa had her crazy, let's-get-married side, but she also had her cool, fun, wild side. I wanted to hang on to that side."
"So, lemme guess," Elliot broke in. "You started houndin' her to come back. She wanted you to keep your little affair hush-hush because you were both still under Carl's employ. You wanted her back, so maybe you guys argued. Maybe some of those arguments even got a little physical."
Tony looked away...
"Which is why we found a domestic abuse attorney's card in Marissa's bag. But answer me this, Tony -- why go after the other girls if it was Marissa you were havin' issues with?"
"Those other bitches were part of the reason Marissa kept pullin' away! They kept tellin' her I was bad news."
Elliot nodded slowly, brows raised and sarcasm all over his face. "Well, they definitely pegged you wrong."
"They kept sayin' I was dangerous and a pig."
"Had you been intimate with any of these other women previously?"
Tony shrugged his good shoulder nonchalantly. "Of course."
"Okay. So, they tell Marissa you're dangerous, so... to prove them wrong, you... assault and rape them?"
"No! I raped 'em to show them that if they wanted dangerous, I could get dangerous."
Elliot nodded, clenching his jaw again to try to keep his rage in check. Very seldom had he heard a murder or rape suspect talk so nonchalantly about the deed itself. "So they had it comin' to them."
"In a way, yeah. They did."
He lifted his eyes to Tony's. "And Marissa?"
"Marissa poked her nose in where it didn't belong. She saw me and April the night of the attack, so the choice became simple: she had to go."
Elliot thought for a moment that it was a damn good thing his partner wasn't in the room. For all of her restaint and calm during interrogation, Olivia would've ripped Tony's balls off at that last little bit of information. He nodded once more. "So she was just a casualty."
"Yeah."
"How about Olivia?"
Tony made a face. "That bitch poked her nose in where it didn't belong, too."
Elliot clenched his fist on his thigh, nails digging into his palm so hard he thought he may have broken the skin. "You'd better as hell watch what you say, Tony. There aren't any guards on this floor."
"What else can I say? Every one of those bitches got what they deserved."
Elliot stood up forcefully and kicked his chair back, reigning in his anger when he saw a few nurses approach the door. "So you don't think you did anything wrong."
"Nope." The way Tony grinned and shook his head made Elliot wish he'd blown the asshole's head off in the private room. "If they hadn't asked for it, nothing would've happened."
Elliot stared at that sickening smile for just one more moment -- it was all he could handle -- before he turned on his heel and left the room, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
*****
"So which one of us do you want?" Munch asked, reaching for Olivia's hospital Jell-o, which she refused to touch.
She chuckled, still a bit painfully. "What are you talking about?"
"Me or Fin. Which one of us do you want as your new partner?"
"Munch--"
"Liv," he cut her off, tilting his head at her. "C'mon."
She searched Munch's eyes back and forth for a moment before smiling to herself, glancing down at the blanket that covered her legs. "Fin."
Munch feigned hurt. "Well, I'm not that fond of you either."
She rolled her eyes. "Just because Elliot and Fin don't get along. At all. It'd be a disaster pairing them off together." She smiled indulgingly at the salt-and-pepper-haired detective by her bedside. "Otherwise, I'd pick you in a heartbeat."
"Thanks, Liv. You're full of shit, but thanks anyway."
She laughed just as a knock sounded on her door. Both detectives turned to see Carl in the doorway, waving and holding his other arm behind his back while he leaned on the doorframe. "Hey."
Olivia smiled slightly. "Carl, hi."
"Just, uh..." He pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of wildflowers. "Just came to see how you were doing."
"Oh, thank you, that was very kind." Her smile grew as she took the flowers from him, indulging in the smell for just a moment. "And I'll be okay, thanks."
Carl looked to both detectives. "Look, I'm sorry about this whole thing."
Olivia shook her head. "Carl, it wasn't your fault. You know that."
"Yeah, but... it's my place. All of it happened under my roof and I had no idea."
"You couldn't," she assured him. "Really, don't beat yourself up about it."
"Hey Liv," Munch patted her hand and rose from his spot by her bed, "I'm gonna go get some coffee. I'll be back." He gestured for Carl to take a seat on his way out.
He did so, and leaned forward slightly with his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped between his knees. "So, uh, this might sound callous, but... did that rat bastard die?"
She found herself smirking despite how she fought it. "I don't think so, no. It, uh... sounds like he's gonna make it." She nodded and tucked some hair behind her ear.
Carl sighed and shook his head, muttering under his breath. "He is so fired."
Olivia chuckled and Carl smiled, just barely, apologizing, "Sorry. Lame joke."
"It's okay."
After a moment of silence in which the club owner and detective just looked at each other, Carl spoke up. "Look, I just want to thank you for everything that you did. You and your partner. You put yourself on the line, in a huge way, just to get the job done. And I appreciate that." He shrugged. "I mean, it's gonna take a hell of a long time to get over this, and... maybe I'll never get over it, but... I can rest a little easier now that this whole thing is solved."
Olivia smiled and reached for Carl's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Me too. I'm glad we found Marissa's killer."
Carl nodded, his eyes misting over for just a second at the mention of Marissa. "Yeah." He dropped Olivia's hand gently and rapidly blinked the moisture out of his eyes, clearing his throat. "So, uh, where's your partner?"
"I think he's interrogating Tony. Or murdering him, I'm not sure which."
He chuckled, smiling ruefully. "Kinda hope it's the latter of the two." He paused. "I still can't believe you guys weren't who you said you were."
"And I'm sorry we couldn't tell you, but--"
"Not that. I mean, not... a couple. Not together. When I first found out, I thought it was such a waste. I mean, you guys seemed completely in love, and... then it was all an act."
Olivia smiled. "Well... not all of it. Let's just say that... this case brought us together, closer than we've been in eight years of being partnered together."
"Well, at least something good came out of this whole thing, then." Carl glanced down at his lap for a moment, thoughtfully, before he lifted his eyes to Olivia and asked quiet, "What was it like?"
"What?"
"Being that close to... y'know. What did it feel like?"
Olivia drew in a breath and pondered the question. She'd been in danger before, certainly, but never had she come that close to death. "It felt like... finality. It felt like the culmination of something, but I couldn't figure out what. It felt like my heart was going to explode and my brain was going to shut down just from pure adrenaline."
"Is it true what they say about the life flashing before your eyes thing?"
"Well, I... I guess. I saw little bits and pieces, but not my entire life. I saw some stuff from college. When I graduated from the Academy. When I met Elliot, when I turned thirty, and... just other little milestones. I thought of everything I would regret not doing."
"Like what?"
"Like... taking time off from work to travel. Really travel, not just hotel-hopping in Europe or anything. Getting married. Having a baby. I thought about Elliot, and how I'd regret never telling him how wonderful it's been, being his partner all these years. How I'd regret never telling him..." Her voice broke with emotion and she tried to swallow back the lump in her throat. "Telling him that I--"
"Olivia?"
Carl and Olivia both turned at the third voice in the room, coming from the doorway. And Olivia smiled, blinking back the rest of her emotions. "Elliot."
Carl took that as his cue to leave. "I should be going, I just... wanted to make sure Olivia was okay, and to thank her for everything." He held out his hand in a shake.
Olivia smiled and took it, watching Carl raise it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her battered knuckles. He met her eyes meaningfully, the two words out of his mouth filled with much more sentiment than they could hold. "Thank you."
Olivia just smiled and nodded, watching him head for the door where her partner remained. The two men shook hands firmly, Carl grasping the arm he was shaking. "Thank you so much, for everything you've done."
Elliot just nodded silently, smiling, and watched him leave. When he was gone, it took Elliot a mere three strides to reach Olivia's bed. He sat down beside her and reached for her face, gently but firmly pulling her into a kiss... desperate like they'd never see each other again. And they almost didn't.
They pulled apart after what felt like hours had passed. Olivia's hands were on her partner's chest and Elliot's were still cupping her face. Their foreheads met and Olivia ignored the brief shooting pain while they just breathed against each other.
"Elliot, I--"
"Shh, shhh." His eyes remained buttoned close, forehead wrinkled as he shook his head slightly, never removing it from hers. "You don't even have to say it."
"But I do."
"No." He pulled back and tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes tracing all the cuts and bruises on her face and neck, fingers just barely fluttering over the muzzle stamp on her temple where the gun had dug into her. "You don't. That's what's amazing about us, Liv. We don't gotta say it. I know you love me and you know I love you and nothing else needs to be said."
She practically beamed at him. "You realize you kinda just said it for the both of us."
"Well... yeah, but the point still stands."
She chuckled and grabbed his face, pulling him into another kiss.
"I'm so glad you're alright," he murmured against her lips.
Olivia smiled and kept on kissing him. The kiss seemed to go on and on, sometimes increasing in passion and fervor and other times slowing down. Elliot's lips teased hers with gentle pecks as he played with her hair, continually tucking pieces of it behind her ear.
The throat clearing at the door startled them apart, and they both turned to see their Captain leaning against the doorway, eyeing them with what looked to be a suppressed smile on his face. Olivia wiped her lip, cheeks flushing. "Uh... Captain, we meant to tell you--"
"But there was never a good time--" Elliot broke in, "And then with everything that happened--"
Cragen just closed his eyes and shook his head a moment, holding up his hand. "Detectives." His voice put a stop to their harried explanations, unusually understanding. He looked between the two of them. "I just have one question for the both of you."
They looked at him expectantly, and he drew in a breath. "Is it worth it?"
He watched as the partners looked at each other, small smiles spreading in unison across their faces before they looked up at him again. Olivia nodded. "Yes sir."
"Good." He nodded. "I just wanted to make sure. Now, I guess the real question is..." He raised an eyebrow. "Which one of you wants to be stuck with Munch?"
TBC
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{x-posted to eoshippers and olivia_elliot}
CHAPTER 19
FANDOM: Law & Order: SVU
PAIRING: Elliot/Olivia
SPOILERS: Season seven-ish, pre-trilogy
RATING: R
SUMMARY:
*****
Elliot paced back and forth on the sidewalk angrily, moving to run his hands through his hair before he realized they were coated with blood -- Olivia's blood. He stomped toward the back of the ambulance parked against the curb in front of the club and grabbed the EMT's arm. "How is he." He knew, and didn't care, that there was no concern to be found in his voice.
The EMT nodded toward the interior of the ambulance, where Tony was getting his arm placed in a sling. "That gunshot wound went pretty deep. Not deep enough to kill him necessarily, but we should get him to the ER to get the bullet removed. We don't have the equipment to do that here."
"Can he walk?"
"What?"
Elliot ground out through clenched teeth, "Can. He. Walk?" with his hands on his hips, no longer concerned about the blood.
"Well..." the EMT was eyeing him warily. "Yes, he can walk, but--"
That was all Elliot needed to hear. He leaned into the ambulance and grabbed Tony's good arm, hauling him out. "He's coming with me, then."
"Detective, you can't just take him with you! He needs medical attention."
Elliot continued escorting Tony to the car, calling over his shoulder, "Yeah, and you guys checked him out. Said yourselves that he was okay to walk. That's good enough for me." He flung open the car door and not-so-gently shoved Tony down into the backseat, ignoring his shout about his shoulder as he slammed the door on him. Wryly, he mumbled, "Oops," to himself before climbing in the driver's side.
"Where the hell are we goin'?" Tony complained from the back. "My arm hurts."
"We're goin' to the precinct, asswipe. There are some questions you've gotta answer."
"Like what?"
"Like why you tried to kill my partner, for starters!" Elliot glared death at him through the rearview mirror. "Then we'll move on to Marissa and the other girls."
Tony folded his one good arm across his chest and slumped (carefully) back against the seat. "Good luck," he mumbled sarcastically.
"No pal, you're the one that's gonna need luck, because I am dangerously close to just lodging a bullet between your eyes and ending this whole thing."
"Pfft, you wouldn't."
"Don't you dare underestimate what I would and wouldn't do. Especially after you almost killed my partner."
When they arrived at the station, Elliot threw the car in park and climbed out, yanking the door open before yanking Tony out -- this time by the bad arm.
"OW! Hey, watch it you prick or I'll press charges."
Elliot grinned at him, though there was no mirth in this grin. Intense hatred was more like it. "Go right ahead," he goaded, and dragged him into the squad room.
Fin, already back at the precinct and at his desk, looked up at Elliot with wide eyes, rising to his feet. "Stabler, what the hell? Shouldn't you be at the hospital with Olivia?"
"Munch is covering her," he called, not stopping to talk as he hauled Tony straight toward the interrogation rooms. "Got some business to take care of first."
Cragen emerged from his office just before Elliot and Tony passed, and he stopped them both. "Whoa, Detective, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked calmly, but sternly.
Elliot just shrugged nonchalantly... innocently, though his eyes were a sharp, intense shade of blue. "Just taking the perp in for questioning."
Cragen studied Elliot warily for a moment, much like the EMT, before he gave Tony the once-over. "This man looks like he should be in the hospital."
"Technically, he should be in the morgue for what he's done, Captain. I just need to ask him a few simple questions." He pushed open one of the interrogation room doors and shoved Tony inside, gesturing to the table and chair. "Get in there and sit down. I'll be in in a minute."
Cragen shut the door softly and lowered his voice. "Elliot, that man -- murderer or not -- is a very dangerous shade of white right now, probably from blood loss."
Elliot slipped his hands into his pockets and shuffled one foot, just for a moment, while he gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Bullet's still in him too."
"For Christ sakes, Elliot, what are you thinking? If he dies while he's in our custody, I.A.B. is gonna be all over my ass and you know that."
Elliot glanced through the one-way mirror, clenching his jaw.
Cragen leaned toward him, trying to capture his attention again. "Elliot. Take this man to the hospital. Now."
Jaw still clenched, Elliot swallowed hard, voice suddenly clogged with barely-restrained emotion as he whispered, "I just wanna know why."
Cragen just watched him for a moment, searched his eyes, understanding shining in his own. And he nodded, patting his shoulder. "And you can ask him. Just not while he's dying of a gunshot wound -- that's gonna get you nowhere. Now bring him to the hospital."
Elliot nodded dutifully and brushed past Cragen, heading into the interrogation room to grab Tony again.
He was only gentle with him until he was out of sight of the Captain.
*****
Sounds were the first to reach her. The steady beep of a heart monitor, the hum of fluorescent lighting, a low murmur of activity beyond where she lay. Next, she felt. She felt the threadbare blanket, standard-issue, covering her legs. She felt every bone and muscle in her body screaming at her. Felt someone holding her hand. After that came taste -- iron, like she'd sucked on a piece of metal. It was most likely blood. Fourth came smell -- sterility. Bleached sheets and new tongue depressors.
Last came sight when she allowed her eyes to flutter open, and she saw the stark white ceiling tiles above her. She heard a chair squeak, someone shifting, off to her right side and she squeezed the hand that was inside hers -- a hand that was definitely not Elliot's. Still, instinctively, she called out, "El?"
"Sorry, Olivia. You've gotta settle for me," came the soft, but wry tone to her right.
She swiveled her head on the pillow, wincing at the pain that assailed her as she did so. "Munch?"
"Yeah, I'm here." He squeezed her hand gently.
She forced her eyes open a little wider and released his hand to push both of hers into the stiff mattress, pushing herself up. Her entire body seemed to groan with the movement and Munch sprang to his feet to help her, hitting the button to raise the head of her bed.
"Easy," he told her. "You took quite the beating. Probably shouldn't be moving much at all."
She frowned and felt some tension at her temple, like something was stuck there. She touched it and felt a bandage. "What happened to me?"
"Do you remember... anything?"
Olivia took a deep breath through her nose, her eyes slipping closed as she tried to remember. She remembered going into the private room and being accosted by Tony. She remembered the fight, that ended with her gun being held to her temple. She remembered Elliot breaking the door down and pointing his gun at Tony. Beyond that... nothing.
She shook her head. "I just remember the fight, and Elliot busting down the door."
"Well, Tony and Elliot took a shot at roughly the same time. Luckily, Elliot's hit first. The bullet from Tony's -- well, your -- gun grazed your temple kinda deep, but it didn't go in." Munch shook his head. "Nanometer in either direction, though, Liv..."
He left the statement dangling, but the implication was pretty clear. So she nodded. "Right."
"Not to mention because of the fight you've got plenty of cuts and bruises, and the doctor thinks you may have broken a rib."
"So that's why it hurts." She smiled ruefully.
Munch smiled slightly back and told her sincerely, "I'm just glad you're alright."
She nodded. "Where, um... where's Elliot?"
Munch raised his eyebrows. "Knowing your partner? Ahh, I'd say he's trying not to murder our perp right about now."
*****
Elliot's jaw was clenched and his pace fast as he made a beeline for the nurses' station. He just barely ground out, "Tony Valera."
One of the nurses eyed him suspiciously, seeing the blood . "I'm sorry, but it's past visiting hours, Mister--"
"Detective," he corrected her, flashing his badge, "Stabler."
The nurse gave a resigned sigh and directed him off to the left. "Room 403, Detective."
There was no thank-you as Elliot took off for Tony's room, finding him getting stitched up by a surgical intern. As soon as Tony locked eyes with him, he began frantically pointing. "No-no-no-no-no. No way, do not let that guy in here. He's the guy that did this to me," and he gestured to his injured shoulder.
Elliot rolled his eyes when he started to get a look from the intern. "Yeah, because you murdered someone, raped a couple others and almost killed my partner." He made a face. "And calm down, ya pansy-ass, I'm here to talk to you."
Tentatively, Tony nodded for the intern to leave, and Elliot stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "So I suppose you want to know why I did it."
Elliot took a seat by his bedside. "We'll get to that. First, what's your real connection to Marissa Cohen? And so help me God if I suspect for a second that you're lying to me..."
Tony nodded. "Got it. Alright, well... a little while after Carl and Marissa got engaged, she got drunk at the bar one night and told me how scared she was."
Elliot's expression remained stoic, unreadable. "Of Carl."
"No, of gettin' married. She's so young, y'know?"
"Was," Elliot corrected with a sneer. "You killed her, remember?"
Tony either didn't hear the comment or chose to ignore it. "So we both got drunk, we talked, and one thing led to another, and... you know how the story goes."
"Sure."
"So pretty soon Marissa's dropping the ring back into Carl's hand, tellin' him she needs her space or some shit and then starts shackin' up with me! Which is great to start out, but then--"
"But then she starts talkin' future and it starts to cramp your style, right?"
"Exactly! I mean, I'm a bartender, I gotta kinda be... available."
Elliot frowned. "You're a bartender at a strip club. Who the hell do you have to be available for?"
"Y'know, the dancers. Comin' to me with their guy problems, flirting when they're waiting for drink orders... that kinda stuff."
"Uh-huh."
"Anyway, Marissa didn't like that, so she took off and went back to Carl."
"But you weren't a fan of that idea."
"Look, Marissa had her crazy, let's-get-married side, but she also had her cool, fun, wild side. I wanted to hang on to that side."
"So, lemme guess," Elliot broke in. "You started houndin' her to come back. She wanted you to keep your little affair hush-hush because you were both still under Carl's employ. You wanted her back, so maybe you guys argued. Maybe some of those arguments even got a little physical."
Tony looked away...
"Which is why we found a domestic abuse attorney's card in Marissa's bag. But answer me this, Tony -- why go after the other girls if it was Marissa you were havin' issues with?"
"Those other bitches were part of the reason Marissa kept pullin' away! They kept tellin' her I was bad news."
Elliot nodded slowly, brows raised and sarcasm all over his face. "Well, they definitely pegged you wrong."
"They kept sayin' I was dangerous and a pig."
"Had you been intimate with any of these other women previously?"
Tony shrugged his good shoulder nonchalantly. "Of course."
"Okay. So, they tell Marissa you're dangerous, so... to prove them wrong, you... assault and rape them?"
"No! I raped 'em to show them that if they wanted dangerous, I could get dangerous."
Elliot nodded, clenching his jaw again to try to keep his rage in check. Very seldom had he heard a murder or rape suspect talk so nonchalantly about the deed itself. "So they had it comin' to them."
"In a way, yeah. They did."
He lifted his eyes to Tony's. "And Marissa?"
"Marissa poked her nose in where it didn't belong. She saw me and April the night of the attack, so the choice became simple: she had to go."
Elliot thought for a moment that it was a damn good thing his partner wasn't in the room. For all of her restaint and calm during interrogation, Olivia would've ripped Tony's balls off at that last little bit of information. He nodded once more. "So she was just a casualty."
"Yeah."
"How about Olivia?"
Tony made a face. "That bitch poked her nose in where it didn't belong, too."
Elliot clenched his fist on his thigh, nails digging into his palm so hard he thought he may have broken the skin. "You'd better as hell watch what you say, Tony. There aren't any guards on this floor."
"What else can I say? Every one of those bitches got what they deserved."
Elliot stood up forcefully and kicked his chair back, reigning in his anger when he saw a few nurses approach the door. "So you don't think you did anything wrong."
"Nope." The way Tony grinned and shook his head made Elliot wish he'd blown the asshole's head off in the private room. "If they hadn't asked for it, nothing would've happened."
Elliot stared at that sickening smile for just one more moment -- it was all he could handle -- before he turned on his heel and left the room, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
*****
"So which one of us do you want?" Munch asked, reaching for Olivia's hospital Jell-o, which she refused to touch.
She chuckled, still a bit painfully. "What are you talking about?"
"Me or Fin. Which one of us do you want as your new partner?"
"Munch--"
"Liv," he cut her off, tilting his head at her. "C'mon."
She searched Munch's eyes back and forth for a moment before smiling to herself, glancing down at the blanket that covered her legs. "Fin."
Munch feigned hurt. "Well, I'm not that fond of you either."
She rolled her eyes. "Just because Elliot and Fin don't get along. At all. It'd be a disaster pairing them off together." She smiled indulgingly at the salt-and-pepper-haired detective by her bedside. "Otherwise, I'd pick you in a heartbeat."
"Thanks, Liv. You're full of shit, but thanks anyway."
She laughed just as a knock sounded on her door. Both detectives turned to see Carl in the doorway, waving and holding his other arm behind his back while he leaned on the doorframe. "Hey."
Olivia smiled slightly. "Carl, hi."
"Just, uh..." He pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of wildflowers. "Just came to see how you were doing."
"Oh, thank you, that was very kind." Her smile grew as she took the flowers from him, indulging in the smell for just a moment. "And I'll be okay, thanks."
Carl looked to both detectives. "Look, I'm sorry about this whole thing."
Olivia shook her head. "Carl, it wasn't your fault. You know that."
"Yeah, but... it's my place. All of it happened under my roof and I had no idea."
"You couldn't," she assured him. "Really, don't beat yourself up about it."
"Hey Liv," Munch patted her hand and rose from his spot by her bed, "I'm gonna go get some coffee. I'll be back." He gestured for Carl to take a seat on his way out.
He did so, and leaned forward slightly with his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped between his knees. "So, uh, this might sound callous, but... did that rat bastard die?"
She found herself smirking despite how she fought it. "I don't think so, no. It, uh... sounds like he's gonna make it." She nodded and tucked some hair behind her ear.
Carl sighed and shook his head, muttering under his breath. "He is so fired."
Olivia chuckled and Carl smiled, just barely, apologizing, "Sorry. Lame joke."
"It's okay."
After a moment of silence in which the club owner and detective just looked at each other, Carl spoke up. "Look, I just want to thank you for everything that you did. You and your partner. You put yourself on the line, in a huge way, just to get the job done. And I appreciate that." He shrugged. "I mean, it's gonna take a hell of a long time to get over this, and... maybe I'll never get over it, but... I can rest a little easier now that this whole thing is solved."
Olivia smiled and reached for Carl's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Me too. I'm glad we found Marissa's killer."
Carl nodded, his eyes misting over for just a second at the mention of Marissa. "Yeah." He dropped Olivia's hand gently and rapidly blinked the moisture out of his eyes, clearing his throat. "So, uh, where's your partner?"
"I think he's interrogating Tony. Or murdering him, I'm not sure which."
He chuckled, smiling ruefully. "Kinda hope it's the latter of the two." He paused. "I still can't believe you guys weren't who you said you were."
"And I'm sorry we couldn't tell you, but--"
"Not that. I mean, not... a couple. Not together. When I first found out, I thought it was such a waste. I mean, you guys seemed completely in love, and... then it was all an act."
Olivia smiled. "Well... not all of it. Let's just say that... this case brought us together, closer than we've been in eight years of being partnered together."
"Well, at least something good came out of this whole thing, then." Carl glanced down at his lap for a moment, thoughtfully, before he lifted his eyes to Olivia and asked quiet, "What was it like?"
"What?"
"Being that close to... y'know. What did it feel like?"
Olivia drew in a breath and pondered the question. She'd been in danger before, certainly, but never had she come that close to death. "It felt like... finality. It felt like the culmination of something, but I couldn't figure out what. It felt like my heart was going to explode and my brain was going to shut down just from pure adrenaline."
"Is it true what they say about the life flashing before your eyes thing?"
"Well, I... I guess. I saw little bits and pieces, but not my entire life. I saw some stuff from college. When I graduated from the Academy. When I met Elliot, when I turned thirty, and... just other little milestones. I thought of everything I would regret not doing."
"Like what?"
"Like... taking time off from work to travel. Really travel, not just hotel-hopping in Europe or anything. Getting married. Having a baby. I thought about Elliot, and how I'd regret never telling him how wonderful it's been, being his partner all these years. How I'd regret never telling him..." Her voice broke with emotion and she tried to swallow back the lump in her throat. "Telling him that I--"
"Olivia?"
Carl and Olivia both turned at the third voice in the room, coming from the doorway. And Olivia smiled, blinking back the rest of her emotions. "Elliot."
Carl took that as his cue to leave. "I should be going, I just... wanted to make sure Olivia was okay, and to thank her for everything." He held out his hand in a shake.
Olivia smiled and took it, watching Carl raise it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her battered knuckles. He met her eyes meaningfully, the two words out of his mouth filled with much more sentiment than they could hold. "Thank you."
Olivia just smiled and nodded, watching him head for the door where her partner remained. The two men shook hands firmly, Carl grasping the arm he was shaking. "Thank you so much, for everything you've done."
Elliot just nodded silently, smiling, and watched him leave. When he was gone, it took Elliot a mere three strides to reach Olivia's bed. He sat down beside her and reached for her face, gently but firmly pulling her into a kiss... desperate like they'd never see each other again. And they almost didn't.
They pulled apart after what felt like hours had passed. Olivia's hands were on her partner's chest and Elliot's were still cupping her face. Their foreheads met and Olivia ignored the brief shooting pain while they just breathed against each other.
"Elliot, I--"
"Shh, shhh." His eyes remained buttoned close, forehead wrinkled as he shook his head slightly, never removing it from hers. "You don't even have to say it."
"But I do."
"No." He pulled back and tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes tracing all the cuts and bruises on her face and neck, fingers just barely fluttering over the muzzle stamp on her temple where the gun had dug into her. "You don't. That's what's amazing about us, Liv. We don't gotta say it. I know you love me and you know I love you and nothing else needs to be said."
She practically beamed at him. "You realize you kinda just said it for the both of us."
"Well... yeah, but the point still stands."
She chuckled and grabbed his face, pulling him into another kiss.
"I'm so glad you're alright," he murmured against her lips.
Olivia smiled and kept on kissing him. The kiss seemed to go on and on, sometimes increasing in passion and fervor and other times slowing down. Elliot's lips teased hers with gentle pecks as he played with her hair, continually tucking pieces of it behind her ear.
The throat clearing at the door startled them apart, and they both turned to see their Captain leaning against the doorway, eyeing them with what looked to be a suppressed smile on his face. Olivia wiped her lip, cheeks flushing. "Uh... Captain, we meant to tell you--"
"But there was never a good time--" Elliot broke in, "And then with everything that happened--"
Cragen just closed his eyes and shook his head a moment, holding up his hand. "Detectives." His voice put a stop to their harried explanations, unusually understanding. He looked between the two of them. "I just have one question for the both of you."
They looked at him expectantly, and he drew in a breath. "Is it worth it?"
He watched as the partners looked at each other, small smiles spreading in unison across their faces before they looked up at him again. Olivia nodded. "Yes sir."
"Good." He nodded. "I just wanted to make sure. Now, I guess the real question is..." He raised an eyebrow. "Which one of you wants to be stuck with Munch?"
TBC
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{x-posted to eoshippers and olivia_elliot}