A/N: I warn you in advance, if you want a happy ending, DON'T READ THIS. I had an idea of how Elliot would be written out of the show, and so obviously it's not going to be nice, because losing him is devastating no matter what way he goes. Anyways, EXTREME angst. Enjoy… or not. =D

The sound of fire crackers filled the cold New York air, and instantly Olivia's stomach seemed to explode somewhere up in her throat, as her legs turned to jelly. She knew that sound like she knew the sound of her own voice, and it was not one of firecrackers, it was the echo of a gun going off.

It took her a moment to realize she wasn't moving, and her eyes shot to her partner who had been standing beside her a moment ago, and who was now gone. Her stomach somersaulted as her gaze moved unwillingly to the ground underneath her feet, and her worst fear was confirmed as her partner lie still, a dark red stain seeping through his white shirt.

Her legs gave out from under her and she dropped to the ground beside him, her hand pressing against the wound, the blood sifting between her fingers as she applied pressure. "El…" she choked. "Elliot… Elliot, stay with me!"

His piercing blue eyes darted back and forth as if he were trying to focus on her.

"I'm here," she offered as the tears spilled from her eyes, dripping onto his shirt, her salty tears mixing with his blood. "El… I'm here."

He made a gurgling sound as he tried to speak, and Olivia knew that he was in trouble.

"Please," she pleaded with him, leaning over so that his eyes could lock on hers. "Elliot, don't leave me. Stay… with me… El… Elliot." She lifted her head for a moment to scream into the night air. "HELP ME! SOMEBODY!" her eyes shot back to his.

His eyes flashed with a kind of fear, and then something else… admiration, and love, and Olivia felt her heart ache as she watched him slip away, unable to do anything to stop it, the pressure to his wound was like a Band-Aid on an amputation, seemingly useless. Her left hand moved down to find his hand, gripping it with a strength she didn't know she had, and deep down, she knew, he wasn't going to make it, because she could feel him slipping away from her.

"I love you, El… do you hear me?" she cried openly. "I love you…"

He seemed to register her words, and told her so with a gentle squeeze of his hand. One… two… three… four… I love you too, she assumed.

"Hang on," she pleaded. "Don't leave me, El…"

But despite her efforts, she felt him leave, he had been there, her partner, her best friend, the only man she had ever trusted with all her heart, the man she had loved as much as she trusted him, and then he was gone, he was nothing more than a body lying still and lifeless underneath her hands.

E/O ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ E/O

Somehow she had managed to get to the hospital, Munch had taken her maybe… she couldn't remember, all she remembered was that they had taken him away, they had to pry her arms away from him in order to put him on the gurney. Someone had held her back. Someone had wrapped their arms so tightly around her waist that she couldn't have moved if she had all the strength of a man.

At the hospital they had announced the time of death, and Olivia had felt a part of her die. A life without Elliot Stabler… she wasn't sure she knew one, even when she had been undercover, he had been around, somewhere, some place, how could he simply be nowhere? He ceased to exist.

When his body was taken to the morgue, she had managed to go too, and she had sat beside him in the cold room as he lay lifeless, ready for examination. Her fingers tightened around his cold ones, his flesh suddenly felt fake, but she still held on, wondering if love was enough to bring him back from death. Love had been big enough to move mountains, to change lives, to create a universe of heartache, so why couldn't it be enough to bring back someone from death?

The bullet had nipped his heart, and no amount of time would have been able to save him, unless he had previously been placed on a gurney ready for a transplant. Olivia knew that and still she found herself thinking, "if only"… if only she the ambulance had gotten there in time… if only they had been somewhere else… if only she had said all that she wanted to say before… if only… if only.

For hours she sat beside his cold dead body, unmoving, tears streaking down her face as she wondered how she was supposed to piece her life back together without him. How long, she wondered, would it be, until the two were reunited?

Soon, a dangerous voice echoed in her mind, soon we'll be there again.

I didn't actually expect it to end this way, of course I had the plan that he was going to die and that she was in the morgue with him, anyways… that's what writing does. It takes you to unexpected places. I don't usually write sad endings… in fact I avoid them at all costs… so was it that bad? Should I stick to happy endings?