Chapter 7

"Same again?" Olivia asked, already turning towards the barman to catch his attention.

Elliot knew it was time to go home. The answer to the day from hell was not going to be found at the bottom of a beer bottle and they were already two drinks in. He should be going home to Kathy while their caseload was slower than normal, and Olivia should be working out her demons somewhere healthier than a bar.

"Thanks," he responded, agreeing to beer number three.

Unsurprisingly, and likely on the advice of his lawyer, West had said very little more when presented with the latest developments in their evidence but they now had Alex convinced that he could be charged. Elliot and Olivia had found themselves in the bar shortly after hearing from the ADA and were missing any sense of elation despite the good news. They were drinking fast and Olivia could feel the buzz from the alcohol start to blur out everything except the part of the day she wanted to forget.

"I might have pulled the trigger if Cragen hadn't appeared when he did," she told him, taking a sip from the glass bottle. " That's the closest I've ever come to killing someone instead of cuffing them."

Elliot didn't say anything at first and just took a long drink from his own bottle. He wasn't sure he believed what she said. Sure, Olivia had been through a lot, but he knew her and she didn't have that kind of anger in her. Not deep down. He looked at his knuckles, patterned with the evidence of his own response to West's taunts.

"I'd have pulled it," he admitted at last. "I don't even know that I'd have hesitated."

Maybe he couldn't be certain of Olivia's mind, but he knew his own. The moment he'd seen the bastard that had hurt her all that had filled his head was a wish that he could have fraction of the time Olivia had been held to let the guy know he couldn't get away with messing with her.

"I don't think I can do this," she admitted, taking courage from another swig of the cold liquid. "I just want it to be over."

"It will be," Elliot assured her. "The arraignment's tomorrow. Any decent lawyer will have told him to plead guilty."

Olivia pondered the thought, wondering if she'd get as lucky as having the process fast forward to sentencing. She knew the steps of the criminal justice system like the back of her hand but that wouldn't make the days and weeks and months any easier to handle if the cogs turned as slowly as they were prone to do.

"I don't think I am fine," she admitted, her boundaries down temporarily as she recalled her earlier response to his enquiries as to how she was doing.

He watched her carefully. She hadn't needed to say it aloud. It was visible in the extra creases around her eyes and the way she fidgeted with the napkin on the bar. She had hardly been still since he had sat by her bed in the hospital. Even earlier, when they had been waiting in the cribs, she hadn't stayed in one position for longer than ten minutes.

"I know," he agreed.

"What if I don't get better?"

The alcohol was making her more dramatic than necessary but her fears were real.

"You'll get there," he assured her, his own tongue also loosened by the beer. "You've got me and you've got Fin and Munch. Even Cragen. We've got your back. You just need to work through this."

She smiled, and it broadened into an unexpected laugh. She wasn't entirely sure why she was laughing. It might have been because he had sounded uncharacteristically like Huang. Or it might just have been because she was exhausted and getting a little bit tipsy.

"What?" he asked, a smile starting to appear despite his confusion, as her laughter became contagious.

"I don't know," she managed, still laughing now that he had also joined in. It felt good, even if they were bordering on hysteria and starting to attract the attention of the other patrons around them. There was something ridiculous about all they had been through in the past few weeks, and in the way West's arrest eventually unfolded. If you don't laugh then you'll cry, Olivia thought, an edge of tension returning, despite their smiles.

"We should eat something," Elliot suggested, sensibly, when they finally fell quiet. Their lunchtime escape was a long time ago now and he could just picture Kathy's face if he staggered in the door having had nothing to line his stomach. Her patience had some limits and with the recent late nights at work and unpredictable moods, he was sure he was getting close.

"I think we should go home," she countered. The wave of exhaustion had washed over her so suddenly that she felt herself lean against the bar to make sure she kept herself balanced on the stool. Even the risk of another nightmare wasn't enough to tarnish the appeal of her bed.

"You sure you'll be okay on your own?" he asked.

She nodded, and for once, he believed her. He'd never seen anyone look more ready to fall asleep - it was as though some primal need for rest had overtaken whatever else was going on in her head. He turned towards the barman, trying to get his attention so that he could pay for their drinks, but was interrupted by his cell phone. He frowned slightly, surprised to see the name displayed on the screen - she would normally text him.

"Maureen, what's wrong?" he answered, interrupting his eldest daughter's garbled ramblings which had begun the moment the call connected. The way his face fell made it clear that she wasn't just checking in with him. "Honey, slow down." He stepped away from the bar, giving the call his full attention. "Okay, okay - I'm on my way."

"What's wrong?" Olivia asked, repeating his initial question and grabbing her coat as her partner fumbled urgently for his keys. The exhaustion induced calm she had felt only seconds before had been shaken away yet again.

"It's Maureen. Someone broke into her dorm," he explained, almost annoyed that he was losing time by having to pass on what he had just been told by his daughter. His only goal now was to reach her as quickly as he could.

"I'm coming with you," she insisted, throwing down enough cash to cover their tab, as Elliot made for the door.

"El, we should get a cab," she called after him, catching up as he headed towards where he had parked when he believed he'd be heading home after a quick beer. The phone call was sobering but as the fresh air hit her she knew that neither of them should be behind the wheel of a car. Especially not with the added shock that came with Maureen being in distress.

"I need to get to my daughter," he responded, seemingly planning to ignore her suggestion until a yellow taxi came into view.

"Elliot," she protested. He'd be no good to anyone if he ended up in a wreck.

Without warning he stuck out his arm, hailing the cab with his shield just visible in his hand. The driver swerved to a stop and he jumped in.

"Hurry up," he called back to Olivia, allowing her a few seconds to join him. He was playing the only two coherent facts his daughter had relayed over and over again in his head. She had gone to bed early with a cold. Someone had broken into her room. He hadn't absorbed anything else before promising that he would get to her.

For the first five minutes of the drive, neither of them spoke. Picking up on tension, but with no knowledge of the source, the cab driver turned up the radio. The sounds of an old country song replaced the silence with lyrics about trains and God.

"She'll be okay," Olivia said at last, unable to watch him fall any deeper into his worry without attempting to pull him out. Their role reversal from earlier in the day had been so seamless that neither of them even noticed it happen.

"If he laid a finger on her..."

His response was really just a vocalisation of his current thoughts but at least he'd said something. Olivia touched his arm in a further attempt to offer reassurance. He gazed out of the window, mentally calculating how much longer it would be until they reached the college campus. It would have been easy enough for Maureen to stay at home rather than move into the dorms. He wished he had pushed that option more.

The dorms were like a maze. It had been less than a semester since he had helped her move in her over-spilling boxes of belongings, but they still took several wrong turns as they negotiated the corridors and stairs. Elliot had darted off as soon as they had paid the cab driver and Olivia had struggled, once again, to keep pace. With one thing on his mind he was barely aware of the woman jogging behind him. It was a relief when he saw the open door and his daughter hovering anxiously outside.

"Maureen!"

He grabbed hold her as soon as she was in touching distance, pulling her tight against his chest for several seconds. Then, without warning, he released her, taking hold of her shoulders and scanning every inch of her body for signs of harm.

"Did he touch you? Maureen, did he touch you?" he demanded. Physically, she seemed to be okay, but he needed to hear her say it for herself.

Maureen stared back at him, too startled by his aggression to respond.

"Elliot, you're scaring her," Olivia cautioned, prompting him to release his grip.

"I'm sorry, honey," he soothed, returning to holding her against his chest and gently kissing the top of her head.

"I'm fine, dad," she assured him, breaking away in her own time. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, staying close to her father. He directed her inside the room, lost for words but knowing that she might like a little privacy.

Inside, nothing seemed out of order. The room was basic and a little untidy, much like every other on the floor and on those above and below. There wasn't anything to indicate that someone unauthorised had been inside.

"Did you get a look at him?" Olivia asked, filling the silence while Elliot struggled to regain composure.

Maureen shook her head and perched on the edge of her bed. Elliot took a seat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"No," she replied. "It was dark and I only woke up with the flash. He ran off when I screamed." She leaned closer to her father as she recounted what had happened.

"The flash?" Elliot questioned, trying not to sound too urgent or to overwhelm her again. "Like a camera?"

"Maybe - I guess it looked like that," Maureen replied. "Do you think he was going to hurt me?" she asked, turning to her dad. The question of the intruder's intentions had been on his mind since the moment she had called him but it wasn't something he wanted to get into, especially when she was already so scared.

Elliot said nothing but kissed his daughter's head again. It was irrational, but alongside his concern, he was becoming overwhelmed with guilt that he had been drinking with Olivia while his child was in danger.

"Olivia?" Maureen persisted.

"I don't know, sweetie," the detective answered, honestly. She also dreaded to think what the intruder may have had in mind but, thankfully something had made him stop.

"You're safe and he didn't hurt you - that's what matters," Elliot added, echoing his partner's thoughts. "Do you want to come home tonight?"

She nodded, leaning closer to her dad once again.

"I'll stay here and speak with campus security," Olivia offered, knowing that taking care of Maureen was now going to be a family affair in which she had no part to play. Her ongoing role was limited to that of investigating the break-in.

"Thanks," Elliot replied, helping Maureen to her feet. "Get your coat, honey. I'll call mom and let her know what's happened."

"You look like you could use something warm."

Olivia looked up to see the campus security officer she now knew to be Frank, with a cup of coffee. She'd come across obstruction when they had tried to investigate offences committed at universities in the past but he was doing all he could to assist.

"Tastes like crap but it'll do the job," he added.

She smiled gratefully as she accepted the paper cup, but her head was too full to make conversation. It had reassured her a little that she could switch her focus from her own situation to Maureen's as quickly as she had. For the first time in a while she only had to contend with being a detective and, working with those who didn't know her, she was being viewed as nothing more and nothing less. The detective work itself was now the problem. As was normally the case when students and alcohol combined, getting a straight story from anyone was less then simple. No matter how many times she promised that, on this occasion, the police didn't care about their drinking, it was clear that she wasn't getting the full picture of what had been going on in the surrounding dorm rooms that night.

So far, it seemed as though the intruder had come in through the window, having scaled the fire escape outside. Maureen had explained to Elliot that she had left the window propped open to help her breathe easier through her stuffy nose. Olivia hated that the girl had been apologetic about that fact, as though she was to blame for being lax about security. CSU had dusted the area for prints but, unsurprisingly, the window frame and fire escape had been touched by many and infrequently cleaned.

"There was another frat party a few buildings over," Frank informed her. "The games were getting pretty wild." He had been helping her gather information from the RAs in various dorms.

She nodded, digesting the information. That meant a new group of students to interview. She was grateful that Cragen had sent over some uniformed officers to help. She hadn't liked the idea of classing what had happened as a sex crime - it made it seem worse somehow - but it was the only way their unit could investigate and there was no denying that breaking into the room of a sleeping student and photographing her could have a sexual element. She downed the last of the coffee and stood from where she had been taking a break perched on a wall outside Maureen's building.

"Thanks. Can you show me the way?" she asked Frank.

Elliot had only just grown used to his daughter as an adult. He'd slowly come to accept that sometimes she would want to drive rather than getting into the passenger seat and letting her father take control. Just a few weekends ago, he'd come home to find her sitting on the front porch with Kathy as they caught up like friends. It had dawned on him, bit by bit, that the parent-child relationship had changed for good.

So to see her now, curled up in a ball on her childhood bed where Kathy had left her a short while ago, seemed like an unnatural step backwards.

"You need your sleep too," his wife insisted, stroking his arm as she joined him in the dark hallway. "You're exhausted."

He leaned in closer to her, wondering how she was managing to stay so calm and in control. When he and Maureen had arrived back at the house, Kathy had taken over immediately, shepherding them into the kitchen where she had already heated milk to make cocoa. They'd sat quietly around the table, their drinks barely touched but still providing the intended warmth. Then she'd balanced on the edge of her daughter's bed, occasionally stroking her hair in reassurance, until she'd heard her breathing deepen and even out, with no more distress than she'd have experienced waiting for Maureen to fall asleep as a child. Meanwhile, Elliot had paced the yard pressing a worn-out Olivia for answers she didn't yet have. Again.

Why had someone targeted his daughter? There were hundreds of other girls in the area. There had been a number of parties going on and, as he and Maureen had waited for their ride home, he'd seen groups of young women stumbling from building to building in high heels and short skirts. He hated himself for thinking it, and he knew it was hypocritical given what would have said to any one of them had they ended up the victim of a crime, but he couldn't understand why those girls were ignored in favour of terrorising someone who had been tucked away, alseep in her room.

His head was spinning with the day and his fist and jaw throbbed as reminders that the break-in hadn't been the only crisis.

"Come to bed," Kathy whispered. "You'll feel better in the morning."

Despite everything, there was something about the way that she said it which made him believe it could be true. At the very least, closing his eyes would bring an end to the day. With one last glance around Maureen's room, to reassure himself she was safe, he left his daughter and followed his wife.

Olivia threw herself down on her bed, her body restless as it ached with exhaustion. She had kicked off her boots and tossed her coat in the direction of a chair in the corner of her room, but beyond that she hadn't even bothered undressing. It had been a long day and, given everything which had happened recently, that was saying a lot. Her eyes were heavy but she felt almost too tired to settle down. She longed for the tired calm which had come over her when they were laughing in the bar.

The effects of the beer had long worn off. The shock of the call from Maureen and the passing of several hours had seen to that. But the lack of food and rest, combined with the amount of adrenaline which had circulated her body, left her feeling nauseous and out of sorts. A full night's sleep was what she needed. Her brain and body had to reset to allow her to function properly. For the past few weeks she'd only been managing to partially recharge.

While unsettled by what had happened to Maureen, she knew that the girl was safe and unharmed. With the recently installed deadbolt on her door, and the gun tucked in the top drawer of her nightstand, she could tell herself that she was safe too.

After some time staring at the ceiling her mind began to drift and as she danced between conscious thought and dream she replayed the scenes of the day, watching Elliot starting to relax over drinks and then rushing to his daughter's aid. The lines between reality and imagination blurred and by the time she witnessed his legs blur into a cloud of dust, like a running cartoon character, she knew she was finally asleep.

To begin with, the dream started like all the others, with swirling images and sounds that didn't really make sense. She was in a basement again and it was too dark to see much more than shapes. Muffled voices and incoherent whispers taunted her and she rolled onto her side to get away.

But her change in position just added a new dimension. The lights came on and her eyes focused on the now familiar face looking at her. His expression was the same as the one which had mocked her as she'd apprehended him in the alley. To see him as a real person, rather than a dark spectre, sent a shiver through her body. His breath was hot against her cool skin and his hands rough on her bare arms. For a short time, all her senses came alive and she was certain that this was reality, and the version of the moment where she was lying in her bed was the dream. It took the swirling and spinning to commence again before she was convinced otherwise.

By 4am she had turned on the bedside lamp, unwilling to risk what she might imagine in the shadows in a half wakened state, or what might appear crystal clear if she closed her eyes. As she sat up in bed, sipping a glass of stale water, the dream didn't seem to want to fade. If she concentrated, she was sure she could feel the pressure of his rough fingers on her upper arms as he propped her up, with her wrists bound and her heavy legs unable to kick out. When she blinked she was blinded by a bright white light, blurring out not only West's face but also that of whoever else was in the room with them. In this new, lingering take on the usual scene they weren't alone.