This story is becoming increasingly more difficult to write. Sorry for the wait but I don't want to just post filler chapters. I'll try to have the next chapter up before Wednesday.
It was early in the morning when Elliot awoke from the first good night's sleep he'd had in a while. He was surprised to find that his pleasant rest was on what looked like and incredibly uncomfortable couch.
His mind was still reeling from his conversation with Olivia. He couldn't believe what she had asked of him.
He knew she was trying to protect him from outrageous accusations but he also knew that every fiber in her being did not want to relieve the humiliation of that night in front of a courtroom full of people.
She'd asked that he not mention what happened before Bushido shot him.
That was all.
She didn't mention anything about concocting a story, or any other thing that might cause for him to perjure himself. He was only asked to consider her request and then talk to her about it in the morning.
Elliot rolled onto his back, trying to relieve the pressure in his bladder from laying on his side. The discomfort in his middle was nothing compared to the ache inside of him.
He couldn't believe that his strong, confident partner had been hurt so badly that she'd rather commit perjury then talk about what happened.
But he needed to talk about it. He needed to get it through to her that this would not help anything. He would not mention what happened but if the defense attorney asked he would not lie under oath and she should do the same.
Elliot winced at the cold under his feet as he swung his legs over the couch and made his way into Olivia's bedroom.
He should have knocked, he realized, but he knew she was asleep and he needed to use the bathroom first anyway.
He made his way past her bed, catching a glance of her fitful form he entered the bathroom that was connected to her room.
He noticed the shower curtain was wet and he scowled as he realized that she had to have woken up in the middle of the night to use it. Excessive showers were not uncommon with rape victims. He understood the need she must have to cleanse her body of the evil that had invaded it.
It made him hate Bushido even more.
Having finished, he made his way over to the sink to wash his hands. It was then that he noticed the row of prescription pills lined up on the counter.
There was one for pain, one for anxiety, one to help her sleep, and an antibiotic; which was the only one with pills missing.
He scowled again at the possibilities. Sure, the medicine could be for her bullet wound; it was very likely that it had been infected. But it was also very likely that the sick son of bitch that raped her had some form of STD.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, realizing that no matter how much he wanted to know that he couldn't, wouldn't, ask.
A soft cry from inside the bedroom broke him from his thoughts and he quickly made his way out of the bathroom and to her.
Olivia was sleeping, sweating and whimpering at the tyrant that only she could see.
"Liv?" He called out to her. His voice caused her breath to hitch.
His heart broke; he couldn't let her suffer another minute, even if it was only in her sleep.
"Olivia", he said again, his voice stern and he sat down on her bed and placed a hand on her shoulder.
She violently jerked back at his touch and he realized that he had accidentally touched her wounded arm.
He moved to her wrists then, gently shaking one, trying to wake her from her sleep.
"Olivia, wake up", he began. "Its Elliot."
He shook her wrist once more and she started to scream.
The terror, the pure unrelenting, agonizing terror, that was in her voice stopped him. He was speechless. He couldn't move if he tried.
Olivia pulled her wrist from his grasp and started clawing at the air, trying to ward off her attacker. She caught him in the jaw and reflex caused him to swat her hand away.
She was flailing still and he was afraid that she might hurt herself or knock over one of the items on her nightstand. He gently shook her once more and her eyes flew open.
She pivoted herself forward, screaming, lunging at him, trying to strike any part of him she could.
He caught her mid-strike and she started sobbing hysterically.
"It's me", he called. "Olivia its me!"
She collapsed against him and went limp in his arms. She was shaking so badly for a moment he thought she was seizing.
"Olivia its okay."
"Please", she whispered, still half asleep. "Please don't, Elliot. Please."
His arms fell from around her and he thought he might be sick. He somehow found the strength to remove himself from her bed and stood a good six feet away.
Olivia immediately curled up into a ball and began sobbing once more. The silence was killing him. The room was still save for her quiet sobs and he wondered what was going through her head. She had called out to him, pleaded for him to stop.
He though he was going to be sick.
It was only after a few wordless minutes that she finally found her voice. "Elliot", she said groggily, though the last of her sleep had left her. "Elliot I need you to give me a minute."
He looked down, realizing she was asking him to leave. He knew he shouldn't be standing there but he couldn't bring himself to leave. "Olivia, I-
"Please, Elliot." She whispered into the space her balled up position created for her. "It was just a dream. I know you aren't going to hurt me."
Her words were like daggers through him. She wasn't fighting off Bushido. She was fighting him. Even if it was a dream, she was afraid the he would hurt her.
"Liv?" His words were the softest they had ever been. "What happened? What did you dream about?"
She looked up at him then, her eyes red and glassy.
Elliot was standing above her. She had seen the gun return to his head and the dread in his eyes as it cocked against him.
"Its okay, Elliot", she whispered. "I'm okay."
His voice was so clear, a vast contrast against the fog that clouded her muffled cries and Bushido's cruel laughter.
Her breathing hitched.
He was reaching for her, it felt so real, and she tried to move away from his touch because she knew he was aiming for her shoulder and she didn't want it to start bleeding again.
"Olivia", he said and his voice was more stern now. She felt the bed below her dip as he climbed over her and pressed against the wound.
She screamed and tried to pull away but he was grabbing at her wrists.
Oh, God, his voice was angry now.
This wasn't a dream; his voice was so clear and his touch was too overwhelming.
She could feel him struggling with her as she fought to get up but he pinned her down and held her still.
This was new. She had had this nightmare many times before but he never fought her. He never held her down, things were never this real.
She glanced up at Bushido who was smiling sadistically at her. She felt Elliot rub against her and she tried to move again but her strength was no match for his weight as he pushed inside her.
She screamed. She screamed more horribly than any other sound she had ever heard before. This was Elliot. He wouldn't do this to her. He wouldn't hurt her like this.
But she was under him, and she couldn't move. He rocked his hips violently against her once more before it all went dark and the images above her faded away.
"Olivia", whispered Elliot. "Olivia tell me what I can do."
"Nothing", she whispered and she shook her head to ward off the images that had plagued her sleep. "Elliot, please go."