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yoyok-era · 7 months

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Look at us, you and I (back at it again) - chapter one

Elliot Stabler x Olivia Benson ♡ Law and Order: SVU ♡ 1.6k ♡ Ao3

[Series Masterlist]

It's cold. It's so cold. The snow bites into her skin, turning her bones into aching icicles.

She shouldn't complain. That's the whole reason she's out here, after all. Because she'd complained. Good girls don't complain. Good girls do as they're told.

She'd been bad.

He'd given her specific instructions to stay on the couch, no matter the circumstances, and she'd disobeyed. Her throat had been aching, phantom hands scratching the insides of her esophagus and crawling their way up to her mouth.

She'd moved slowly, legs trembling as she clutched onto tables and closets on her way to the kitchen. She wasn't allowed here, she was breaking the rules, but the punishment for puking on his floor was worse than the punishment for sneaking into the kitchen.

She'd managed to grab one of the cups on the counter, broken fingers screaming in agony as they curled around the glass. Her hands shook as she filled it with water, eyes glued to the liquid as it streamed from the faucet and into the cup, like it was a drug and she was an addict.

He'd come back just as she'd lifted the glass to her lips. The slam of his fist against the door rattled her, and she watched, horror stricken, as the glass slipped from her hand and landed on the floor, shattered.

"I thought I told you to stay put?" His voice was low and growling, and it vibrated through her body. "I suppose I'm used to you breaking my rules, but breaking my things? That's new, Olivia."

Her heart raced and her head swam, nausea rising in her stomach as fear flooded her veins. She whimpered quietly, trying her hardest not to throw up.

"I was thirsty, I-"

There's a scoff, and she cuts herself off. "You know when you're allowed water, don't you Olivia?" He's standing in front of her now, staring down at her, waiting impatiently for an answer as she flounders for something coherent. There's a scowl etched on his face, and his expression makes her feel even smaller than she already does.

"When you let me."

"Exactly," He steps closer, if that's even possible, and she can smell the alcohol on his breath. "So why, pray tell, are you being an ungrateful bitch and disobeying me?" The word stings, like fire and acid. She knows what she did was wrong. Knows it was a mistake to break the rules, but that doesn't make the sting any less painful.

She licks her lips and says nothing.

His brows crease in frustration, confusion. Then he breaks into a smile. "I know exactly what your punishment will be for this little stunt of yours."

That's how she ended up here, tied to the tree in the garden, the bark digging into the skin of her back through the thin material of her shirt. He'd left her out overnight, wrists bound and mouth gagged as she sat through the blizzard that the news had been warning about for the last week.

She looks up as the door to the house opens with a slam, blinking the snow out of her eyelashes.

Lewis doesn't step outside. He stays in the doorway, smiling at her as he nurses a steaming mug between his hands. "How's the weather out there, Livvie?."

Olivia doesn't – can't – respond, humming weakly around the gag.

"The blizzard broke one of the window frames last night. I'll have to go to the store." He smiles, watching as her eyes fill with fear. "I can't take you with me, of course. But, to move you inside only to tie you up again is a bit of a hassle, don't you think?"

Her heart drops. The closest town is hours away, and she feels like she might freeze to death if she spends any more time outside. Of all the ways she thought she'd die, all the possibilities that had run through her head over the last few years, freezing hadn't been one of them.

She watches helplessly as he closes the door, walks through to the front of the house, steps into his car, and drives away. Her eyes follow him until the car fades from view, and then her gaze settles on her bound wrists, on the rope that digs into her skin, leaving red streaks in its wake.

If it wasn't so cold, if she wasn't gagged, she would scream. But there'd be no point to it; the cabin he's kept her in is isolated from the rest of society. No one comes here, and if they do, they don't leave alive.

There was a couple once, two hikers that had taken the wrong turn. Olivia had screamed, begged them to help her, to call the police, to do anything. Lewis shot them both, and she can still see the bodies as they crumpled and fell in front of her.

She's pulled out of the memory when something stabs into her leg, drawing crimson droplets to fall onto the snow. She maneuvers as well as she can, moving her hands to the injury. There's a sharp pain in her thigh and she yanks, gasping as she tugs something out of the wound.

It hurts. God, it hurts so much. She stares at the bloodied shard of glass in her palm, tears burning as fresh blood drips from the open slice of skin. Must've blown over during the storm, she thinks.

She cries then, a sob wracking her body as her vision darkens slightly, threatening her with the darkness that's always lurked beneath her skin. She tries desperately to hold the bloody piece of glass between her shaking hands, moving it back and forth until the rope binding her wrists together breaks.

Her arms are stiff, frozen, as she moves them, the ropes around her chest biting deeply into her flesh as she tries to cut them off. She grits her teeth, harder and harder until it hurts.

Blood. So much blood. It drips down her legs as she stands up, the ropes pooling beneath her feet. The only barrier between her and freedom, the only thing keeping her bound here, severed and laying at her ankles.

The realization almost makes her collapse. She can go. She can leave this place. She can get out and leave and go back to her family. Fin, Amanda, Noah.

Elliot.

She moves as fast as she can, stumbling and staggering as the cold seeps deep into her bones and numbs them, slowing her down more than she already is. Her blood is trailing in the snow behind her, but she can't be bothered to care.

It feels like hours until the lights from the town come into view. They shine bright enough that she knows where to go, knows which path to take and the quickest route to get there. She's free. She's escaping, and she's free.

She ducks into the first store she sees as she struggles for breath, each inhale painful against the ice in her lungs. She ignores everything around her and grabs at the nearest rack of clothes, clutching whatever item she can find. Anything to stop the numbness creeping up her limbs, the dizziness threatening to drag her down under the weight of it all.

"Miss, you okay? We've had someone call an ambulance for you. Would you like to sit down?" There's an employee that's started approaching her, his hands stretched out in front of him, like he's trying not to scare her.

The world around her moves in a blur, her head spinning. She barely registers a voice shouting about a missing police captain, and another voice calling 911, and then there's nothing, only a darkness and a dull pain in the side of her head.

o0o0o0o0o

Saturday night means movie night in the Stabler household. It used to be Sunday, but then Noah moved in, and Elliot didn't want him going to bed late when he had school the next day.

Noah's recounting the story to Vincent as the two attempt to make a batch of cookies, though they're doing a better job of messing up the kitchen then they are of actually baking.

Elliot's watching from the couch as they do, Jet tucked against his side as she scrolls through their movie list.

"We could do a Disney movie?" She suggests, raising an eyebrow at the rest of them.

Noah and Vincent break out into a fit of giggles. "After Dad cried during Frozen 2? No way." Noah laughs, throwing a handful of flour at his boyfriend in the process.

"It was a nice moment!" Elliot defends himself against his adopted son, glaring at Jet as she snickers beside him.

"Why don't you do something classic? Titanic or something?" The attention shifts to Joe, who's sitting on the other side of the couch with his arm draped around Kathleen's shoulders.

There's a series of boos around him as he finishes the suggestion, and he throws his hands up in surrender.

Lizzie grabs the remote from her spot next to the coffee table, switching the TV onto her netflix account. "Since all of you are so indecisive, I'll pick."

They end up settling on the 2nd Hunger Games, a sequel to the film they watched last week, eating cookies and popcorn as one of them cracks a joke every few minutes.

Elliot's phone starts ringing an hour into the movie, and when the caller ID reads "Fin," his heart drops. Fin has no reason to be calling him at 9pm on a Saturday night; they haven't worked any cases together recently, and Fin's not known for initiating small talk this late into the evening.

He presses the green button, standing up and moving away from the laughter of the group. He freezes as the news leaves his speaker, tears springing into his eyes.

He's slow when he turns back to his kids, who've gone silent.

It's Kathleen who speaks first. "Dad, you okay?"

"That was Fin." He pauses, his eyes searching for Noah's amongst the group of people.

"They found her."

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