It is winter, the city outskirts covered with snow, the air frosty and biting at their cheeks. Olivia is pitted against the cold with a black coat; belt tied tight, her face hidden in a plaid wool scarf. Elliot braves the icy air beside her, gloveless, hatless, and complaining.

"It's January, and you don't own a pair of gloves?" she asks, sceptically, raising her eyebrow as they fall into stride along the sidewalk. They'd tried to park as close as possible to the suspect's house, but they still found themselves faced with a considerable walk down the street.

"I do," he defends himself, "but I've also got five kids."

"Ah," she says, in understanding, burying her own clothed hands into the deep recesses of her pockets.

"One-four-nine-seven?" he asks, touching her elbow, jerking his chin in the direction of the brick house in front of them. She looks up, and pulls out the paper with the address scrawled in her rushed handwriting.

"Yep," she says, grinning, happy to be away from the cold.

The suspect takes a while to answer his door, she rings twice, and he suggests that maybe their guy isn't home. When Olivia points out that there is smoke coming from the chimney and that there are lights on, they agree that someone is definitely there. She rings again, and hopes that if she's obnoxious enough, someone will answer.

"What," a tall man, in his mid forties answers their hounding.

"Gerard Heild?" Elliot says, his breath coming in small white puffs.

"Yeah, who wants to know?"

"NYPD," Olivia clarifies, "Mind if we ask you a few questions?"

Gerard's eyes dart around the space of his front steps nervously. "Sure, I uh, I just-," and he takes off, slamming the door in their faces. Olivia can hear his footsteps racing through his apartment.

"Son of a bitch," Elliot swears, and pushes Olivia out of the way as he attempts to kick down the heavy door. While Elliot puts all his energy into breaking the steel door, Olivia races down the snow covered steps and out into the alley that leads to the rear of the house. It is littered with boxes and cans and other trash, and she narrowly avoids falling several times because of the thick layer of ice covering the ground beneath her feet.

"Elliot!" she yells, hoping he can hear, when she spots the retreating form of their suspect running through the parking lot at the mouth of the alley on the other side. "Over here!"

She doesn't wait to hear his response, or for him to catch up to her, because if this guy is their perp, she's not letting him get away. She wants him to burn, to pay for every woman he ever touched. She sprints as fast as her legs will carry her, feeling the burn in her muscles and the parchment in her throat. Her breath escapes her mouth in clouds of white, and when she enters into the parking lot, she skids several feet, her arms flailing in a desperate attempt not to fall. The parking lot is literally an ice rink.

She stands still a moment, chest heaving, hair displaced, gun in hand, looking frantically around the parking lot for Gerard.

She hits the ground as fast as she can when a bullet whizzes past, inches away from her right ear. She gasps at the harsh contact of the hard ground against her body, and crawls around on the ice until she is hidden behind the safety of a parked car. She sits near the right wheel, so that her legs and feet have cover as well. She pants, and leans her head against the car door. She can hear her radio buzzing frantically, and although it's only the sounds of bad reception, she knows it must be Elliot blowing his top because he doesn't know where she is. She'd tell him, she'd talk to him, but she's terrified of giving up her location to their perp. Instead she whispers 'back parking lot' into the radio and promptly turns it off, sighing in relief at the silence, finally able to concentrate.

She gets to her feet and squats, so that just her head is above the window, permitting her to look around. The parking lot has several cars in it, offering many places for cover. She quickly darts out from behind the car, and stalks expertly in the direction from which the bullet came. Her academy stance is perfected. Every five paces she stops, and takes cover behind another vehicle, keeping her eyes trained on the rest of the lot. It unnerves her greatly that she can't see where their suspect is. Right now, she doesn't have the control. Ultimately, even though she's the cop, she is at the disadvantage.

She catches a sudden movement from the corner of her eye, and jerks her arms up, taking aim with her gun. She sees that it's their perp running across the far end. She's about to take her shot when he ducks and turns around, shooting at her instead. Two shot ring out, and two bullets slice through the air by her shoulder.

Angered, she narrows her eyes and takes aim, shooting for his shoulder. She shoots, and isn't surprised when she doesn't hit. He's ducked behind the cover of another car. The bullet hits the car and ricochets with a spark and a ringing noise.

She's also keeping her eyes out for Elliot, because she knows he's got to be in this lot somewhere, too, and there's nothing she wants more than to have him by her side. There's something about his presence that strikes confidence in her, and puts her at ease.

She crawls out from behind the car and streaks across the small clearing between two rows of cars, skidding on the icy ground. Keeping her eyes glued to the car behind which their perp is hiding, she yelps in surprise when she is yanked to her feet by her hair.

"Gotcha."

She gasps loudly.

"Shhhh," says a man she can't see, his voice unfamiliar, and his build foreign to her mind. His rough hand grips her wrist so tightly that the blood flow stops and her muscles pinch and give out and she has no choice but to drop her gun. His other hand is fisted in her hair, pulling her roughly against him, bending her neck back forcing her head against his shoulder. She inhales a sharp breath, trying to catch her breath again, but the guy seems to think that she's about to scream and so he clamps his hand harshly over her mouth.

Olivia struggles, and kicks at his shins with the hard heel of her boot, thrashing her torso from side to side. The man is strong though, and out does her by far, keeping his arms steadily locked around her lithe form. She does manage, however, to wriggle her head free for a few seconds.

"Elliot!" she yells, and her call is cut off half way through when his hand slaps forcefully over her mouth again.

"Shut up!" he hisses in her ear, and throws her roughly against the side of the car. She hits it with a smack, and her head bounces sharply off the window, leaving her in a daze. The man takes this opportunity to his advantage and wraps his hand around her throat, squeezing, and the other pinning her body to the car. "Shut up you little slut."

Olivia blinks rapidly, trying to clear the fog in her mind, wincing as she is crushed to the side of the car.

"You trying to arrest my brother?" the man whispers harshly, pushing against her, his lips at her ear. "You trying to kill my brother?" he is forceful and grabs her hair again, bashing her face off the window once more. The glass crunches under her skull, a spider web shaped crack appearing. Olivia moans and her knees go weak with the pain.

"Leave him alone! You're worth nothing next you him. You're worthless!" The man yells in her face, spitting on her. "Leave him the hell alone! You trying to kill him?"

Olivia knows that neither of them are innocent. She knows that Gerard is a rapist, and that undoubtedly, his brother is his partner in crime.

"You'll be so sorry you ever came here!" He yells at her again, face red, fist geared for a punch.

When he hits her and she is thrown down to the ground she is barley cognizant enough to put her arms out to catch herself, and when she does, they're so weak that her elbows buckle instantly and she tumbles to the ground anyway.

It is the violent kick to her gut that makes her vomit.

She soils the ground around her, only able to turn her head so she doesn't choke. She receives a second kick, this time aimed at her ribs, and her sight is marred by lots of tiny bright dots as the pain shoots through her abdomen.

She whimpers, and tries to get her hands under her, trying to lift herself up. Her wrists feel so detached from her body though, and they're shaky when she attempts to rise onto her hands and knees.

"I don't think so, bitch," Gerard's brother says, and hits her over the head with the end of her own weapon, sending her reeling with dizziness, and she sprawls on the ground again.

"Stop," she whispers, not at all sure that the man can even hear her. "Please, stop…"

Her head lifts up and the man turns sharply around when they both hear Elliot call out her name. "Liv? Olivia?" The distance and the cars between them muffle his voice.

She can tell, by the intonation, that he doesn't know where she is, and has simply heard the gunshots and her call for assistance. His tone is severely worried, but she knows he hasn't spotted them yet.

"Elliot…" she tries, managing a moan, and she is vaguely aware that she's got tears flooding her eyes

The man looks back down at her, and realization dons on his face. "There's two of you," he mumbles, and drops quickly to his knees beside her. He rolls her onto her back, for she was curled in the fetal position on her side, rocking herself because of the pain.

He covers her mouth with his rough palm when she starts to cry out, her tears running down past her temples, her hair sprawled out under her head, blood matted in it. He proceeds to straddle her, sitting heavily on her hips and keeping one hand planted firmly over her mouth. Her eyes are wide with fear, and she's hurting, she's hurting. She feels like she's drowning…swimming with all her strength and yet she's loosing the battle and she just can't breathe.

Gerard's brother wrenches open her coat and then tears apart her shirt, popping all the buttons. He scratches at her exposed flesh with frantic dirty fingernails, creating long stripes of red along her chest and stomach. Olivia thrashes, trying to get away. "No…"

"Olivia!" She hears Elliot call out again, and thank God, it seems like he's closer.

She bites down hard on the man's hand, a desperate attempt for freedom, and he curses and out of reflex, removes it. She packs up all of her strength and delivers the loudest, strongest scream she possibly could have in her current state. It echoes around the lot several seconds after the initial sound has been cut off.

That little stunt earns her a harsh slap across her cheek. She lies there, stunned into silence, staring up at the man on top of her with dilated pupils. She knows she came here for a reason…knows there's a stranger sitting on top of her, but she'd give anything if she could only remember…

"Don't make any noise," he says harshly, and digs his hands down into her pants.

"No," she moans again, "No, no…" She's crying, torrents running freely down her face. Her hands are pinched uselessly under the man's knees, unable to help her in any way, despite the jerking of her arms trying to get free. She stops making coherent sounds when she gasps at the cold dread that slices though her when she feels his hands slide into her panties. And then his fingers roughly find her. His dirty, filthy, slimy, disgusting fingers slipping harshly against her centre.

"How'd you like that, huh? How do you like it when people surprise you? I bet you love it. You love it, don't you? Yeah, that's it. That's it, baby."

Suddenly, a shot rings out and then there is a heavy weight on top of her, crushing her chest, the man's full body mass falling onto her torso. She splutters and coughs, trying to breathe in.

And then Elliot is there, yelling her name, pulling the bastard's hands out of her pants and cuffing the dead man and yanking him away from her, throwing him on the ground. Elliot comes back and kneels beside her, leaning over her, his eyes bright blue and horribly worried, scared.

"Liv?" He reaches out to touch her, but all Olivia registers is the hand that's coming near her body. She flinches and tries to scoot away.

"Okay, okay," Elliot says calmly, raising his hands by his head. "Shhhh, it's okay, Olivia, it's over."

She feels so insanely pathetic, and she closes her eyes and cries. Elliot keeps trying to talk to her. Finally Olivia gets enough air in her lungs to think more rationally, and she sees Elliot's face close beside her, swimming and distorted behind the tears in her eyes. She reaches out desperately, and her hand comes in contact with the material of his shirt. She holds on, at tight as she can, latching onto the one person that makes her feel safer. Elliot's hand covers hers and squeezes tightly, before releasing her and reaching for both sides of her coat. He grips them steadily and brings them back over her body, holding it closed at the middle over her bare skin. There isn't anything to be done about her shirt, it is shredded. With one hand holding her coat closed, he hesitantly moves to her pants, not sure what her reaction will be.

She doesn't even seem to notice that he's touching her, and so he gently pulls them back correctly on her hips and buttons them. With his phone he calls for a bus.

"Olivia?" he murmurs, leaning over her again. "It's okay. Shhhh." He tries to calm her, but she keeps shaking, not registering his words. "Breathe, Olivia. Help's coming."

"El," she coughs, and a small dribble of blood escapes from the corner of her mouth.

He slides his arms under her and holds her body as close as he can without moving her too much, mindful of her injuries. "It's over now, it's all over. You're safe with me."

They lie in the cold and wait for the ambulance.