Sins of the Past

 

by KAM

 

 

Prologue

 

She lay passively on the bed, the dirty, stained sheets bunched below her.  She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, silent tears trailing down her face.  The man above her grunted – once, then twice – as the sweat rolled off his hairy, obese body and rained down upon her bared breasts.  A grimace of pain passed over her face as his weight pressed her further into the mattress, making it difficult for her to breathe. 

 

"So good," he moaned, one hand reaching over to trail over her chest, stopping to pinch first one nipple and then the other.  "Ummm, yeah.  Yeah, bitch."

 

She bit her bottom lip, filled with shame and humiliation that she had been reduced to this once again, to a part of her life that she had thought long buried.

 

Spreading her legs wider to accommodate the man’s girth, she clenched her hands into fists as he climaxed with a final, hard, bruising thrust.

 

Groaning, he stiffened above her, his face turning an alarming shade of red, a fine sheen of sweat covering it.  Finally, panting harshly, he rolled off of her and climbed to his feet with a low grunt of effort.  Standing, he sneered down at her as he stuffed his softening cock back into his pants and zipped them up.

 

"You gonna be working again tomorrow night?" he asked as he pulled out his wallet and took out a couple of bills.

 

Not looking, keeping her eyes averted, she nodded.

 

"Good, I’ll be looking for you."  Chuckling, he threw the twenty dollars down onto the bed beside her.  "Best fuck I’ve had in a long time."

 

Humiliated, she continued to lie there with her eyes closed and listened as the man left the room.

 

Then, on unsteady legs, she got up and pulled on the thin robe hanging on the bedpost.  Wincing, she leaned over and picked up the money.

 

Clutching the two ten dollar bills, she went over to the cheap, battered dresser and pulled open the top drawer -- placing the money on top of the handful of bills already there.  Even without counting it, she knew she didn’t have enough yet.

 

In a little while, she’d have to go back out, walking along the street outside the hotel, waiting for the next car to stop.

 

And then she’d come back to the dirty, foul hotel room and lay on the stained bed again, closing her eyes even as she opened her legs to the next man.

 

And the one after that.  And the one after that…

 

With a muffled cry, she slammed the drawer shut.

 

Her head slowly lifted until she could see her reflection in the mirror above the dresser.  She could hardly recognize the woman staring back at her.

 

Two sunken eyes, dark circles underneath them, reflected back at her, accusation and hatred filling them.  The skin sallow -- stretched taunt over hallowed out cheeks and prominent cheekbones.  Her hair, once vibrant and shiny, now hung limp and dull.  Unwashed sweat, her own and that of countless men, coated her entire body.

 

She felt used up and filthy, both inside and out.

 

Unable to stand it anymore, she picked up the lamp and, with a scream of anguish, smashed the mirror, obliterating the horrific image.

 

Sobbing, she stumbled over to the bed and sank down, her legs unable to support her any longer.  Tears blurring her vision, she looked over at the phone sitting on the nightstand.  Seeming to move of its own volition, her hand rose and hovered in the air, shaking slightly, before moving towards the phone.  Her fingers trailed over the receiver, wanting desperately to pick it up.  To call the one person she knew would come save her, the one person she had always counted on to rescue her, especially from herself.

 

For what seemed like the thousandth time, she picked up the receiver and clutched it to her chest.  She reached out her other hand and pressed the numbers, her fingers trembling.  Slowly, she brought the phone up to her ear and listened to the rings.

 

But, like before, she lost her nerve; unable to deal with the accusation and contempt she thought she’d find waiting for her.

 

Gently, she replaced the receiver.  "God help me, I just can’t.  I can’t do it.  I can’t let him see what I’ve become.  Not again.  I’m so sorry, Sweetie.  So sorry.  Please forgive me."

 

Her stomach rebelled and she raced to the bathroom, falling to her knees just as the first wave of nausea overcame her.  Retching, she leaned over the bowl.

 

But there was nothing left to come up.  She hadn’t eaten in days.

 

Fresh tears stung her eyes, the bitter taste of bile gathering in her mouth.  She spit and then blindly reached up to flush the toilet.  Gathering a wad of toilet paper, she wiped her mouth and slowly climbed to her feet.

 

The shaking grew worse, wracking her body.  She knew she had to get back out on the streets, had to keep going until she had enough money.

 

Then, everything would be better.

 

As soon as she had enough money, she could get what she needed to make everything go away.  For a little while at least.

 

Stumbling back out into the room, she gathered up her scattered clothes.  As shivers continued to race through her body, it took several moments for her to don the few, scant pieces of clothing.  When she finally finished, she headed outside.

 

***

 

It wasn’t that cold out, but her skin still broke out into goose bumps as she walked onto the sidewalk.  No one paid her any attention as she joined the multitude of women – and men – already lining the sidewalk.  Although it was already short, she hiked her skirt up slightly higher and strolled a short distance away from the hotel.

 

Before too long, a car slowed down and pulled up to where she was standing.  Approaching it, she bent over and leaned into the passenger side window.  "Hey, you looking for a date?" she asked.

 

A dark-haired, muscular man with a mustache and goatee, who appeared to be in his mid forties, looked over and leered at her from behind the steering wheel.  "How much?"

 

"Depends on what you want?"

 

The man’s eyes, alit with hunger, raked up and down her body, taking in the limited view.  "Is there anything you won’t do?"

 

"If you wear a condom, and as long as the price is right, I’ll do anything you want."

 

"Get in," he ordered.

 

For a moment, she paused, hearing something in his tone that alarmed her.  But then she pushed the feeling aside and opened the door.  As soon as she was seated, she heard the lock click.  "No need for that," she said, a hint of nervousness creeping into her voice.  "I’m not going anywhere."

 

She was met with silence.

 

The man pulled back onto the street, one hand reaching over to land on her thigh.  She squirmed when the hand slowly crept upward, pushing her skirt higher.  "I…I have a room at this motel," she said, pointing to the one where she’d been staying.

 

"I don’t want to go to a motel room."

 

"Then where –"

 

"Shut up, whore!" the man yelled.  "You speak only when I tell you to, is that understood?"

 

Fear rose up in her and she began to realize that she had made a very big mistake climbing into this particular car.  "L… let me go.  Stop!"

 

Lightening fast, the man grabbed the back of her neck and slammed her head forward onto the dashboard.  Releasing her, he watched as she slumped to the side, unconscious.  "I think you’re the best one yet," he muttered.  "Oh, yeah, I’m going to make you last a long time."

 

The sound of laughter filled the car as it disappeared into the night.

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Holding up his badge, Detective Elliot Stabler nodded at the man standing guard outside the hotel room.  "I'm Stabler."  He nodded towards the tall brunette woman, also holding out a badge, standing next to him.  "This is Benson.  Sex Crimes.  Somebody called us in."

 

"Yes, sir."  The uniformed officer gestured towards the open doorway behind him.  "It's a mess in there.  My partner is inside with forensics."

 

Elliot put away his badge.  "What can you tell us?"

 

"Well, dispatch radioed in with a 911 call.  Someone reported a scream coming from this room.  When we got here, we had the manager let us in.  We found what could be signs of a struggle.  The mirror is shattered, glass all over the place.  But no bodies.  I reported in while my partner secured the scene."  The officer shrugged.  "Don't know why they called you guys in though."

 

"You reported that you found signs of recent sexual activity in the room, right?"

 

"Yeah.  There's some stains on the sheet."  The officer smirked.  "Pretty obvious what they’re from.  This motel is known for being frequented by working gals."

 

"Well, screaming, a possible missing person, and evidence of sexual activity.  Pretty obvious why they called us in, don't you think?"

 

"Seems like a waste of time, if you ask me."  The officer shrugged.  "Hell, if she’s staying here, then she was hooking.  Why go to all this effort over a whore?  We got better things to do.  Other people who need our help, ones who actually deserve it."

 

Elliot stepped closer to the officer, crowding him.  The uniformed man backed up until his back was pressed to the wall.  "Everybody -- no matter who or what they are – deserves our help.  Protect and serve, remember that?  I don’t recall any mention of that only referring to certain people."

 

"Look, I’m just saying –"

 

"I know what you’re saying," Elliot interrupted, "and I don’t want to hear it."  Elliot glanced back at his partner, an eyebrow raised in question.  When she nodded, he brushed past the now brooding officer and entered the room.  Once inside, the two partners exchanged a quick glance and then began their examination of the crime scene.

 

They ended up on either side of the rumpled bed.  "What do you think?"  Elliot asked.

 

Olivia Benson's eyes roamed over the room once more, taking in the shattered mirror before meeting her partner's gaze.  "I don’t know.  For some reason, I think there’s something to this.  My gut instinct says that we've either got a live vic out there being held against their will or we've got a dead body just waiting for someone to find it.  Whatever it is, this isn't going to be an easy one."

 

"Yeah."  Elliot sighed.  "Especially if she is a working girl.  So let's go find out just who, dead or alive, we're looking for."  The two detectives nodded at each other and walked over to the other uniformed officer.

 

"Detectives," he greeted.

 

"Have you got anything for us?"  Elliot asked as he pulled out a notepad.

 

"Yeah, I spoke with the manager.  He was pretty shook up though so I let him take off."

 

"Without letting us speak to him first?"  There was a warning note to Elliot's tone, one that the officer either didn't or wouldn't hear.

 

"I know how to conduct an interview, detective.  I got everything out of him."

 

"Listen, you –"

 

Olivia stepped forward and laid a hand on Elliot's arm.  "Yeah, well, why don't you just tell us what he told you.  Then we can just go and talk to him ourselves.  Just to make sure he didn't forget to tell you something."  She smiled as she tugged her partner backwards, placing herself between the two men.

 

The officer smiled in returned, mollified.  "Sure."

 

"Now, why don't you start by telling us who this room is registered to?"

 

The officer looked down at his own notepad.  "Sandburg," he answered.  "Naomi Sandburg."  He flipped the pad shut.  "The manager didn't know much else.  Just that she checked in about a week ago.  Said he saw men coming in and out of here sometimes.  There was a purse lying on the floor.  I took a look."  He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ID.  "It's a New York City driver's license – issued right before she checked in here by the looks of it." He shrugged. "She's kinda old, but she ain't all that bad."

 

Olivia reached out to take the license while Elliot fumed behind her.  "You tampered with evidence?  What?  Is this your first day on the job?  Or are you just stupid?"

 

"Hey –" 

 

"You know what?  Just forget it.  Get out of here.  You and your partner can leave now."

 

"You detectives, you're all a bunch of egotistical jerk-offs, you know that.  Think you're so much better than us just ‘cause we're in uniform."

 

"No, I think we're better than you because you pull stupid shit like this."

 

Once again, Olivia put herself between the two men.  "Look, we're all just getting a little bit too worked up here."  She read the officer's nametag.  "Davidson, I think we can handle things from here.  Why don't you and your partner take off?  If we need to talk to you again, we'll come see you."

 

"All right."  Davidson glared at Elliot, receiving a smirk from the detective.  Scowling, he turned to leave.

 

"Not so fast," Elliot stopped him.  "Where can we find the manager?"

 

"You're the detectives.  Go detect him."

 

"You son of a –"

 

Olivia grabbed Elliot's arm and restrained him.  "He's not worth it.  Let's just find out what forensics has to say and then go find the manager and interview him."  When her partner still glared after the now departed officer, Olivia jerked his arm.  "C'mon, Elliot."

 

Reluctantly, he took a step back and looked over at her.  "All right.  I'm fine."

 

"If you were fine, you wouldn't be ready to go after that jerk.  What's up?"

 

"Nothing.  I said I was fine."  He pulled his arm free.  "Can we just get this done and get out of here?"

 

"Sure," she agreed, eyeing her partner thoughtfully.  "I'll go see if they found anything.  You stay here."  She hesitated for a moment until she received an acknowledging nod.  "We okay here?"

 

"We're fine."

 

"Good."  She left her still seething partner behind and walked over to the forensics technicians.  "Hey, fellas, what have you got?"

 

"A lot," one of the men replied, "though I don't know how much use it'll be to you."

 

"Why?"

 

"Well, this place isn't exactly the Ritz, you know.  The problem is, we've got too much evidence.  Too many prints, too many hairs and fibers.  The maid obviously doesn't visit that often around here.  It's going to take us a while to collect everything and sort through it all."

 

"What about the sheet?"  Olivia pointed towards the bed.  "You'll be able to get something from it, right?"

 

The tech shrugged.  "We'll know more when we get it back to the lab.  Look, we'll give you a call when we have something for you.  But I'm not making any promises.  It's going to be very difficult to figure out what in here belongs to your vic and what, if any, belongs to your perp."

 

"Yeah."  Olivia looked around the room one final time before giving the men a distracted, "Thanks."  Then she went to rejoin her partner.  "No luck," she replied to his questioning look.  "There's a lot in here for them to collect.  They said to check back in with them after they've had a chance to sort through everything."

 

"That's just great.  By then, this scum will probably get bored and finish the vic off.  If he hasn't already."

 

"Let's just go talk to the manager.  Maybe he'll be able to give us something."

 

"Yeah," Elliot agreed.  "And we need to pull the LUDs from this room.  See if she called anyone or if anyone called her."

 

"I'll call in and have Munch do that and also have him run her through the system.  Maybe something will turn up there."

 

"Sounds like a plan."

 

Olivia pulled out her cell phone and called into the station as they left the room and went in search of the manager.

 

***

 

The two detectives tracked down the manager, who was in his office, nursing a beer.

 

"You the manager?"  Elliot asked, unable to help the look of disgust that passed over his face.  The ‘office’ was dirty and smelly.  Beer bottles and pornographic magazines covered the counter.

 

The man belched.  "Yeah, that’s me."

 

"What can you tell us about the woman staying in Room 226?" the detective asked.  "A Naomi Sandburg?"

 

"Is that her name?" the manager asked.

 

"You didn’t know?"

 

"Hell, how am I supposed to keep track of everybody?  People come and go – if you get my meaning."  The manager sneered, looking over at Olivia.

 

Elliot clenched his jaw, taking a moment to get himself under control.

 

Once again aware of her partner’s mood, Olivia stepped forward, not giving Elliot a chance to respond to the man’s actions.  "Just tell us what you can about her."

 

"She’s been here for a few days.  Seen her going in and out of there all the time – always got a man with her.  She’s a whore, what else do you need to know?"

 

"Are you the one that called 911?" she asked.

 

"Naw, wasn’t me.  But I did hear her scream.  Must have been around midnight or so."

 

Elliot and Olivia exchanged a look, the same thought going through both of their minds – it was now just after two in the morning.

 

"Look, if you want to find out anything else, just go talk to some of them other whores out on the street.  That’s where she did her business."

 

"Yeah, right."  Elliot pulled out one of his business cards and handed it over.  "If you think of anything else, give us a call."

 

"Whatever."  The manager took another drink of beer as he accepted the card.

 

Feeling the overwhelming urge to go wash his hands, Elliot walked over to the door and held it open while his partner walked through it.

 

"Well, that was a waste of time," she remarked once they were outside.

 

"What I want to know is, why did it take so long for someone to respond to the 911 call."

 

"If it was placed right away," Olivia replied.  "Whoever it was might have delayed before making the call."

 

"Yeah, we should check with dispatch and find out what time the call came in.  But my gut says that those two idiots were slow to respond.  They knew about this place, the people who stayed here, and weren’t in any rush to check out the call."  Elliot sighed.  "Right now though, we should go outside, see if anyone out there can tell us anything."

 

"All right," Olivia agreed.  "But it’s going to be tough getting anyone to talk."

 

"Yeah, I know."

 

***

 

"Hey, c’mere, we want to talk to you," Elliot called out to a group of women standing by the entrance to the hotel.

 

Reluctantly, the women approached the two detectives.

 

"Yeah, what do you want?" the one in front asked.  She was a tall, dark-skinned woman with long blond hair, clad in a see through blouse, short skirt, and stiletto heels

 

Olivia pulled out the driver’s license and showed it to the women.  "What can you tell me about her?"

 

"What’s in it for us?"

 

"A get out of jail free card," Olivia replied.  "You tell us what you know and we won’t get Vice down here to give you a hard time."

 

"Her name’s Naomi, but she ain’t been down here all that long," the woman replied, sighing and rolling her eyes.  "She works every night, usually does four or five johns."

 

"What’s her story?"  Elliot asked, as Olivia put away the license.

 

"I hear she’s got a habit to support," the prostitute answered.  "Other than that, I don’t know anything."

 

"Did anybody see her tonight?"

 

"Not me, sugar."

 

Elliot was about to tell the women they could go when he noticed one in the back, who looked to be barely seventeen, glancing around nervously.  He reached for her and pulled her forward.  "All the rest of you can go.  You stay."

 

"Me?" the girl looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes.  "I ain’t done nothing."

 

"You saw something."

 

"No, I didn’t," she protested.

 

"I think you did and you’re coming down to the station with us."  Elliot began pulling the girl towards their car.

 

"Elliot –"

 

"Back off, Liv."

 

"Let me go."  The young girl jerked her arm free.  "I’m not going anywhere with you!"

 

Elliot spun around to face her, his expression softening when he saw past the brave front she was putting on to the fear underneath.  "How old are you, anyway?" he asked, his voice soft.

 

"Old enough."

 

"Look, you don’t need to be out here.  Come with us, let us help you."

 

"You ain’t my father.  I don’t need your help."  Then the expression on her face changed, becoming pouty.  Her voice turned low and husky.  "But for the right price, I’ll let you be my daddy for a little while."  She moved to press up against the detective, her hand landing on his chest and then slowly moving downward.

 

Olivia stepped forward, pulling the girl away from her partner.  "Go on and get in the car, I’ll deal with her."

 

Though he’d seen a lot during his time in SVU, Elliot nonetheless appeared shaken by the girl’s actions.  Nodding, he stormed over to their car.

 

Giving the girl a small shake, Olivia leaned close to her.  "You don’t know what you’re playing with, little girl."

 

"What’s wrong?  Jealous?"  The girl smirked.  "Hell, you can always watch.  For enough, you can join in, too."

 

"That’s it.  You’re coming down to the station.  Let’s see if a few hours in lock-up will make you a little bit more cooperative."

 

"Wait!  Just chill a minute."

 

Olivia looked at the young prostitute, an expectant look on her face.  "Well…"

 

"I saw that old lady -- she got into a car and took off.  I was surprised because she always does all of her business at the motel."

 

"What kind of car?"  Olivia asked.  "Can you give me a description?"

 

"It was small, black, not the usual kind you see around here."

 

"How so?"

 

"Normally, we get all the daddymoblies," the girl scoffed.  "SUVs, station wagons, that kind of thing.  This was more sporty…newer, too."

 

"What about a license plate?"

 

The girl gave her a ‘get real’ look.  "Sorry, must have missed it."  When the detective continued to stare at her, she gave a small huff.  "It wasn’t a normal one, it was one of those special ones.  With a saying, you know."

 

"What saying?"

 

"I don’t remember.  I think it had an ‘l’ in it.  Maybe a ‘k’ too."  She shrugged.  "Can I get back to work now?"

 

This time it was Olivia’s expression that softened, despite the girl’s earlier actions towards her partner.  "If you come down to the station with us, we can help you get in touch with your parents.  Or get you somewhere off of the streets, at least."

 

"Like I said, I don’t need your help."  With that, the girl walked off, joining the rest of the women.

 

Shaking her head, sighing, Olivia went to join her partner.

 

***

 

"Well?"  Elliot asked as soon as she was in the car.  "Did you get anything out of her?"

 

Olivia put on her seatbelt before turning to her partner.  "She saw our vic," she said.  "Apparently, this Naomi Sandburg got into a ‘black, sporty, newer’ vehicle with a vanity plate, possibly with an ‘l’ or a ‘k’, earlier."

 

"That’s some description," Elliot scoffed.

 

"Yeah.  Anyway, instead of taking the john to the motel, which is how she usually did things, this time she went with him.  Nobody’s seen her since."

 

"So, what?  You’re thinking she was grabbed off of the street, not in her room?"  Elliot asked.  "Hell, for all we know, the guy could have wanted her for the rest of the night.  We might not even have any crime here."

 

"I get the feeling our vic didn’t spend the whole night with anyone.  Don’t forget, from what we heard, she’s got a habit to feed.  Someone like that would need a fix before too long."

 

"Unless that was part of the deal," Elliot countered.

 

"So what now?"

 

"Now we go back to the station and see if Munch has turned up anything," Elliot answered.  "As of right now, we don’t have a whole hell of a lot to go on so hopefully he’s found something.  We can also start running a search for any vehicles matching that description."

 

Silence filled the car as they started on their way back to the station.  After a few moments, Olivia asked, "You ready to tell me what’s bothering you now?"

 

"I told you before, I’m fine.  And I’d be a hell of a lot better if you’d quit asking me what’s wrong all the time."  Elliot gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white.

 

"Oh, yeah, you’re fine," Olivia retorted, earning a glare from her partner.  She twisted around until she could look at him.  "Then how about telling me what was up with you and that girl?  She really got to you."

 

"Of course she did!"  Elliot exclaimed.  "God, she couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old and she’s out there selling her ass on the street.  Why shouldn’t that get to me?  Doesn’t it get to you?"

 

"You know it does."  Olivia’s voice was soft, a stark contrast to her partner’s tone.  "But as much as we may hate it, it’s not like we haven’t seen it before.  And a whole lot worse.  You don’t normally react like that.  Not unless there’s something else going on."

 

She held up her hand when Elliot started to speak.  "All I’m saying is that I’m your partner.  I’m here if you need to talk."

 

Elliot just clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Groaning softly, Naomi slowly regained consciousness.  At first, she was dazed and confused, unsure of where she was or what had happened to her.  But then it all came rushing back -- her days spent at the motel, the constant string of men, getting into the car…

 

She moaned out loud.

 

Her thoughts went to Blair, and suddenly she ached to be with her son.

 

Despite the condemnation she knew she’d receive from him.

 

But, no.

 

Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true.  Blair would never do that to her.

 

Not once while he was growing up, no matter what she did or the pain her actions caused him, did he ever show her anything but love and acceptance.  He always tried to help, to keep her safe.  It was as if he were the parent and she the child.

 

Hot tears coursed down her cheeks.  Not ones caused by the danger she knew she was currently in, but ones caused by a lifetime of memories that filled her mind.

 

When Blair had first been born, she’d been determined to give him the best in life.  To shower him with love and affection, to show him everything good in the world.

 

And that was something she had failed in.

 

Failed miserably.

 

Now, all she wanted was the chance to make it up to him, to earn his forgiveness.

 

To earn forgiveness from herself.

 

But to do that, she would need to survive.

 

Pushing aside thoughts of her son for the moment, she focused on trying to determine where she was.  She tried to move, but soon realized that she was restrained, her ankles and wrists tied together with rope.

 

Shivering, she moved around, discovering that she was lying on a soft bed with clean sheets.  She strained on the bed, twisting and contorting her body, trying to take in her limited view.

 

The room was brightly lit.  Looking upward, she saw that there was a mirror mounted to the ceiling above the bed.  It provided a clear view of her naked body.  Her pale skin was a stark contrast to the black sheets, making her stand out vividly.  Each of the bruises and contusions marring her skin was readily visible and she hastened to avert her eyes.

 

Wiggling around, she managed to turn over onto her side.  To one side of the bed was a table, a variety of objects spread out over its surface.  She was familiar with several of them, having had several of her customers bring along toys that they wanted to use on her.

 

But the other things…her mind shied away from thoughts of what they could be used for.

 

There was also some type of stand in the corner, with restraints for ankles and wrists at either end.  Even from the bed, she could see the dark red splotches staining it.

 

She quickly looked away.

 

A sink, water steadily dripping from the faucet, was also in the room.

 

Then she saw the video camera set up, its red light blinking, indicating that it was on and recording her every move.

 

She twisted, turning on her other side, her gaze falling on the other side of the room.

 

Immediately, she let out a horrified gasp when she realized what she was seeing...

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

As the two detectives walked into the SVU squadroom, a thin, gangly man with a pitted face and tinted glasses approached them.  "I got the phone records for your room," Detective John Munch announced as he held up several sheets of paper.  "Seems this Naomi Sandburg knows somebody in Cascade, Washington.  There’re several calls to four numbers.  One’s a cell, one’s for Rainier University, one’s registered to a James Ellison and the other, surprise, surprise, is for the Cascade PD."

 

"The Cascade PD?"  Olivia repeated as she reached for the computer printout.  "Why would our vic be calling the PD there?"

 

"Oh, perhaps it has something to do with this other number.  The one registered to James Ellison.  Or should I say Detective James Ellison with the Major Crime Division of the Cascade PD."

 

"Get out, the guy’s a cop?"  Olivia looked over at her still silent partner.  "I wonder how our vic is connected to him.  Maybe she moved here from Cascade, decided to set up shop somewhere else.  This Ellison guy may have busted her.  Or maybe she was his snitch or something."

 

"Set up shop?"  Munch repeated, his tone questioning.

 

When Elliot didn’t respond, Olivia turned back to Munch.  "Did you come up with anything else on our vic?"

 

"Our supposed vic," Elliot murmured.

 

"What’s that?"  Munch asked, looking back and forth between the two partners.

 

"Apparently our vic was a working girl," Olivia informed him.  "And someone saw her get into a car with a john."

 

"So you don’t know if she’s actually missing or if she just got a date for the night."

 

"Yeah," Olivia nodded, agreeing with Munch.

 

"Well, let me give you some background on your supposed victim."  Munch grabbed another set of papers off of his desk.  "Apparently, Ms. Sandburg has a pretty long record, but it’s all for misdemeanor stuff and none of it’s been since the early 90’s.  And what I found doesn’t jive with your vic being a working girl. It seems she’s some kind of activist.  All the arrests relate to protests or demonstrations, mostly trespassing or disturbing the peace.  There’s nothing in here to indicate any prior arrests for solicitation."

 

"It doesn’t seem very likely, but maybe some of that could be tied into her disappearance?"

 

Munch held up his hands.  "Hey, that’s for you two to find out."

 

"Thanks, Munch," Olivia called out as the other detective went back to his desk.  Then she turned to the man standing beside her.  "What do you think?"

 

"Let’s go fill the Captain in on what we’ve got so far," Elliot suggested.  "We’ve got a few open cases right now and I’m not sure we should even be wasting our time on this.  Not until we’ve got something better to go on."

 

Olivia hesitated before responding, giving her partner a searching look.

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing," she replied, knowing that the bullpen wasn’t the place to press her partner for answers on his recent behavior.  "Let’s go."

 

"Fine."  Elliot walked over to the Captain’s office, knocking and receiving a muffled, ‘come in.’

 

Shaking her head, still puzzling her partner’s demeanor, Olivia followed after him and entered the Captain’s office.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

For several moments, Naomi's mind simply refused to believe what her eyes were seeing.  A steady chant of 'nonononono' fell from her lips as her gaze remained locked on the horror before her.

 

On the wall, a collage of large, color photos were hung.  Each depicted a different woman, a sadistic torture being inflicted on them.

 

Naomi felt the bile rise and she leaned over the bed to vomit on the floor.

 

She never heard the door behind her opening.

 

"Well, well, well, looks like somebody made a mess."  The man who had kidnapped her walked over to the bed, his nose wrinkling as he looked at the floor in disgust.  "You really are filthy.  Tsk, tsk."

 

Naomi rolled over onto her back, eyeing the man in fear.  "Stay away from me.  Leave me alone."  Her voice trembled, causing the man’s smile to widen.

 

He pulled something from behind his back and Naomi's eyes immediately were drawn to it.  Despite herself, she could feel the familiar need welling up inside of her.

 

"Ah, you want this, don't you?" the man teased, holding up the needle.  "I can see it in your eyes.  I saw the marks on your arms; I know what they mean.  If I give you a little bit of this, you won't care what I do to you, will you?"

 

"No, please," Naomi begged, even though she wanted nothing more than for the man to giver her the shot.  Anything to make her forget what she'd seen, forget where she was, forget who she was…if only for a while.

 

"Yes."  Slowly, the man advanced and kneeled on the bed.  Grabbing her arm, he smiled when she only put up a token resistance.  Then, he plunged the needle into her arm, injecting the drugs into her body.

 

Naomi moaned, feeling the drugs enter her system, feeling the beginnings of the numbness.  Everything else faded as she was swept away.

 

She barely felt it when the man began to touch her…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

"I’m going to go start running a search, see if I can find anything to match that car."  Elliot announced as they walked out of the captain's office.

 

Following her partner, Olivia joined him at their desks.  "So, you want to call these numbers or should I?"

 

"You do it.  But I wouldn’t do it just yet.  At this time hour, you won’t get anyone in Washington.  Give it a little while.  Then, if there’s been no sign of our vic, give them a call.  But start with the PD."  Elliot turned to his computer.  "Why don’t you take a look at the police record?  See if anything jumps out."

 

"Fine," she agreed, bristling slightly at her partner’s attitude.

 

***

 

Both detectives worked in silence for a while, their frustration growing when their efforts turned up little results.  They looked up when their Captain, Donald Cragen, approached.  "Well, do you have anything yet?"

 

"Not a hell of a lot," Elliot answered, sighing in disgust.  "So far, I've got 200 possibilities on the car.  It'll take a while to track them all down.  The description is just too vague – there are too many matches to be of any use. But I’ll try running a search on the registered owners, see if any of them has a record."

 

"What about you?"  Donald turned to his other detective.

 

"Nothing."  Like her partner, the frustration was clear in Olivia's voice.  "At all of these protests, our vic was just one of many people arrested.  I've been running names, but so far they've all come up clean, nothing that would connect them to this."

 

"Well –" Donald started, only to be interrupted by someone calling his name and holding out a phone to him.  He walked over to take it and listened intently for several seconds.  Then, he closed his eyes and sighed.  "All right.  I'll get someone right on it."

 

He hung up and walked back over to his detectives, who looked up at him.  "We've got something that might be tied into your missing woman," he informed them.  "Seems a woman just turned up at County General’s ER.  Said that she escaped from some guy that grabbed her a couple of days ago.  Like your vic, she's a working girl."

 

"Okay, but why does that tie her into this case?"  Elliot asked.

 

"She says she was grabbed by a guy driving a dark colored car.  A car with some kind of vanity plate – it had an 'l' in it."  Donald stared at the two detectives for a few seconds, letting the information sink in. "Get down there and interview her, find out what she can tell you about her abductor."

 

"We're on it."  Elliot stood, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.

 

***

 

Entering the ER, Olivia and Elliot walked up to the admittance desk and held up their badges.  "Police," Olivia announced.  "We got a report of a woman who says she was kidnapped."

 

"Yes." The woman behind the desk nodded her head as she looked up at the two detectives.  "Just a moment please."

 

A few minutes later, Olivia and Elliot were approached by a doctor.  "Detectives?"

 

Elliot nodded.  "I'm Stabler and this is Benson."

 

"Hello, I'm Doctor Weston."

 

"What can you tell us?"

 

"The woman's name is Elaine Wright and she stumbled into the ER about an hour ago."  Seeing Elliot's raised eyebrow, the doctor hastened to add, "We would have called you guys sooner, but she was extremely incoherent and we were just able to get her calmed down a little while ago."

 

Weston paused, clearing his throat.  "She's not in very good shape," he informed the detectives.  "Multiple bruises and contusions, borderline dehydration.  She… um… has severe vaginal bruising and tearing, but it's hard to tell if it's from her captor or … well, she is a prostitute so it could be from that."

 

"Did you do a rape kit?"  Olivia asked.

 

"Yeah, we did.  No fluids or hairs present though."  The doctor consulted the chart in his hands.  "We also found a large amount of heroin in her system.  But again, whether it's from her abduction or her lifestyle, we don't know."

 

"Can we see her?"

 

"For a few moments," the doctor answered.  "This way."

 

The two detectives followed after the doctor as he led them down a corridor to an examination room.  "She’s in here.  But I have to warn you, she’s rather groggy.  I don’t know if you’ll be able to get much out of her."

 

"Thanks, doc," Elliot said, nodding.  Then, followed by his partner, he entered the room.

 

Inside, a pale, thin woman lay on the hospital bed, a number of IVs and monitoring equipment hooked up to her body.  As they approached the bed, she stirred, her eyes slowly fluttering open.  "Mmmmm..." she moaned.

 

"Ma’am," Elliot quietly called.  "Ms. Wright?"

 

"W… who’re you?"  The words were slow and slurred.

 

"Detectives Stabler and Benson," he told her.  "We need to ask you a few questions."

 

She nodded slowly.  "Ummm."

 

"Can you tell us anything about the person who kidnapped you?"

 

Olivia stood back slightly, content to let her partner handle the questioning.

 

"He… he…" She started sobbing.  "He hurt me.  So bad."

 

"Where did he take you?  Can you give us an idea of where you were held?"

 

"I…it was dark.  I just…I just got out and started running.  I…I don’t know..."

 

Elliot glanced back at his partner; a look of shared frustration passed between them.  "Can you tell us anything about the person?  The car?  Anything?"

 

"He was big.  Dark hair.  Mustache.  Goatee.  I don’t know anything else.  He kept me in this room.  He…he did things."  Her words were halting; the tears wracked her body, making it difficult for her to talk.  "There…there were pictures…other women.  Lots.  Kept saying that he c…could do anything he wanted to me.  That I was a whore.  No one would miss me.  M…make me sorry.  S…spreading disease.  He…he had me strapped into this…this thing.  My wrists were bleeding.  The blood …slippery.  I got loose.  And then…then I just ran and ran and ran…"

 

"Okay, shhh, " Elliot soothed, reaching out to rest a hand on her arm.  "It’s okay."

 

"I’m sorry.  That’s…that’s all I can remember…"

 

"All right."  Elliot withdrew his touch, reaching into his pocket to pull out a card.  He laid it on the table next to the bed.  "I’m going to leave my card.  If you remember anything else, anything at all, please call me." Elliot slowly back away from the bed.  Catching Olivia’s eyes, he nodded towards the door.

 

Quietly, leaving the sobbing woman alone, they left the room.  Once outside, they found the doctor still there.

 

"She’s pretty upset," Olivia informed him.

 

"Yeah, I’ll go give her something to calm her down," Weston replied.

 

"What’re her chances?"  Elliot asked.

 

"Not good.  She’s got some internal injuries as well.  She’ll be taken up to surgery as soon as an OR is available.  But…well, it doesn’t look good."

 

"Call us and let us know what happens?"  Elliot requested, receiving a nod.  "I also left my card with her…just in case she remembers anything else."

 

"Fine.  Now if you’ll excuse me…" The doctor moved past the detectives and went to see to his patient.

 

***

 

Back at the station, Elliot and Olivia reported in with their captain before heading back to their desks.

 

"I think I’ll try those numbers now," Olivia announced as she picked up her phone.

 

"All right.  Just start with the PD," Elliot reminded her, turning to his computer.  "I’m going to try to go through some more of these matches on the car."

 

Wordlessly, she nodded.  After checking the number, she dialed and waited for an answer.  "Major Crime, please," she said when her call was finally answered.  Picking up her pencil, she tapped it against her desk, ignoring the irritated look Elliot shot her.  "Yes, could I speak with Detective James Ellison, please?  This is Detective Olivia Benson calling.  Yes, I’ll hold."

 

***

 

On the seventh floor of the Cascade PD building, the Major Crime bullpen was busy.  Just outside the office of Captain Simon Banks, a blond woman, sitting at a cluttered yet organized desk, put the call on hold and scanned the room.  When a tall, muscular man with piercing blue eyes glanced her way, she motioned him over.

 

Setting down the file he’d been glancing over, Detective James ‘Jim’ Ellison walked over to the desk.  "Yes, Ronda?"

 

"There’s a call for you, Detective," she informed him.  "A Detective Olivia Benson."

 

"Benson?"  There was a puzzled expression on Jim’s face.  "The name doesn’t sound familiar."

 

"She didn’t say what she wanted, but she’s holding for you."

 

"Thanks, Rhonda.  Just go on and transfer her."  Jim nodded at her and went back over to his desk.  Still wondering why the unknown detective would be calling him, he picked up the phone and barked, "Ellison."

 

***

 

Back in New York, Olivia straightened from her slouched position when the harsh greeting sounded.  "Ah, Detective Ellison, this is Detective Olivia Benson.  I’m with Special Victims Unit in New York."

 

***

 

Jim’s curiosity grew.  "What can I do for you, Detective Benson?"

 

"My partner and I are investigating the possible disappearance of a Naomi Sandburg.  Both your home number and the Cascade PD were among the calls she placed from her hotel room.  I was wondering if you could tell me exactly what is your connection to Ms. Sandburg."

 

"What do you mean ‘disappearance’?"  Jim grated out, his hand tightening on the receiver.  "What happened to Naomi?"

 

"That’s what we’re trying to determine.  Now if you could just answer –"

 

"Tell me what you’ve got first."

 

"Look, Detective, I –"

 

"She’s my partner’s mother," Jim interrupted, not wanting to waste any time.  "Now could you please just tell me what’s going on?"

 

"My partner and I were called in after dispatch received reports of a scream coming from a hotel room.  A room registered to a Naomi Sandburg.  When we got there, Ms. Sandburg was nowhere to be found.  We pulled the phone records to her room and discovered that the only calls made were to a number registered in your name, the Cascade PD, Rainier University, and a cell number."

 

"Is the cell number 555-9474?"

 

"Yes, it is."

 

Hearing the note of surprise in her voice, Jim explained, "That’s my partner’s cell number."

 

"Well, is your partner –"

 

"Blair Sandburg," Jim informed.

 

"Is he there?  I’d like to speak with him."

 

"He’s not here right now.  Look, I’m going to clear some time off with my captain and then Sandburg and I will be on the next flight there."

 

"I don’t think that’s really necessary, Detective."

 

"Believe me, once Sandburg finds out that something’s happened to Naomi, there’s no way you’d be able to keep him away."  Jim grabbed a pen.  "Now where did you say you were again?"  Jim jotted down the information and then hung up.  Letting out a deep sigh, he stood up and approached his captain’s office.

 

Hearing ‘enter’ when he knocked, he opened the door and walked inside.  "Simon, you got a minute?"

 

Captain Simon Banks, a tall, imposing, dark-skinned man with gold wire rim glasses perched on his nose, looked up from the papers he had been reading.  "Sure, Jim.  Come on in.  What’s going on?"

 

Ignoring the chairs in front of the captain’s desk, Jim walked over to the large windows along the wall and stood there, staring out, his hands clasped behind his back.  "I…I just got a call from a Detective Olivia Benson.  She’s a member of SVU in New York."

 

"SVU?"  Simon’s eyebrows rose in surprise.  "Special Victims Unit?  What did she want?"

 

"It was about Naomi. Sandburg’s mother," he unnecessarily added.

 

"What about her?"

 

"Apparently, they have reason to believe that something has happened to her.  She’s missing.  That’s all I know," he said, anticipating his captain’s next question.  "I told this Benson that Sandburg and I would come out right away."

 

"Sure." Simon nodded, standing.  "You can have as much time as you need.  Aw, hell, Jim.  I can’t believe this.  Naomi…" He shook his head.  "The kid isn’t going to take this very well."

 

"I know, Simon.  Believe me, I know.  I just have to figure out how to tell him about this without having him fall apart.  You know how much he loves his mom.  This…this is going to tear him up inside."

 

"Is he coming in today?"

 

"No," Jim answered.  "He had a lot to do at Rainier -- wrapping up finals and everything since his break starts tomorrow.  I think…if you don’t mind, I’d like to do some checking, find out about this Benson and this SVU division.  Then I’ll head home, wait for Sandburg."

 

Silence descended for a few moments.  Then, Jim straightened and turned.  "I don’t know how long I’ll be gone…"

 

"Don’t worry about it.  Just get your open cases in order and I’ll reassign them to Henri and Rafe.  You can brief them before you head out."

 

"Thanks, Simon."

 

The captain nodded.  "You just be sure to let Sandburg know that we’ll be thinking of him …and of Naomi.  And if the two of you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

The first thing Jim did when he returned to the loft was pack bags for both himself and Blair.  He didn’t want the younger man to have to deal with it.  Then he called and booked two tickets on the first available flight out – tomorrow morning was the soonest they could leave.  He didn’t know how Blair would cope with having to wait; realizing that his partner would want to head to New York immediately.

 

Needing to keep busy, Jim set about making dinner as he waited for Blair to come home.  He didn’t want to call Blair; he had limited information and he also wanted to let the younger man remain blissfully ignorant as long as possible. 

 

He knew that neither one of them would feel like eating, but they would need to do so anyway, if for no other reason than to keep their strength up.

 

He was just turning off the oven when a key sounded in the lock.  Straightening, he tried to ready himself for what was coming.  Turning, he watched as his roommate entered the loft.

 

His face drawn, his curly, reddish-brown hair falling in a soft cascade around his shoulders, Blair Sandburg wearily trudged through the door and dumped his backpack on the floor as he tossed his keys into the basket sitting on the small table next to the door.

 

A smile appeared on his face and the usual lively spark returned to his previously cloudy blue eyes when he saw Jim standing in the kitchen.  "Hey, I wasn’t expecting you to be home already."  Then, noticing the apprehensive look on the older man’s face, the smile faded away.  "What’s wrong?  Did something happen today?  God, Jim, tell me."

 

Instead of answering right away, Jim walked over and put his hands on Blair’s shoulders.  "I…I got a call today.  A Detective Olivia Benson from New York."

 

Blair’s mind raced as he tried to think if anyone they knew might be in New York.  "I don't –" 

 

"Blair…" The name was full of misery and compassion.  Eyes closing, as if in pain, Jim added, "Naomi…"

 

Head shaking in denial, Blair tried to back away but Jim’s grip kept him from withdrawing.  "My mom is fine, Jim.  If something were wrong, I’d know."

 

"Chief –"

 

"No, I don’t want to hear it.  I don’t know what this detective told you; but whatever it was, it’s a lie."  Blair seemed to retreat then, withdrawing into himself, his eyes glazing over.

 

Jim gave him a small shake, jarring him.  "Sandburg!"  There was a world of fear and worry in the hissed name.

 

"J…Jim…"

 

Immediately, the detective pulled the younger man to him, hugging Blair to his chest.  One hand went up to bury itself in the mass of curls while the other anchored Blair to him.  "God, Blair, I’m so sorry, but it’s not a lie.  Naomi was in New York and she’s…she’s missing.  They’re investigating but they don’t know what happened to her yet."

 

For an instant, Blair fought the hold.  But then he accepted the comfort being offered and his hands fisted in the back of Jim’s shirt.  "Nonononono…."  The denial repeatedly emerged from his lips.  Then, his words whispered, sounding dazed, he murmured, "She said she’d never go back…"

 

Sentinel hearing caught the soft words and Jim pulled back slightly to stare down into Blair’s face.  Once again there was a dazed look in the deep blue eyes and Jim got the distinct feeling that his partner wasn’t all there at the moment.  "Blair…" Receiving no reaction, he moved his hands to cup the younger man’s face.

 

His thumbs moved to wipe away the tears spilling from the impossibly wide blue eyes.  "Blair…Baby…" Acting on instinct, his voice fell into the soothing timbre that Blair used on him when he zoned.  "Come back to me.  Blair…Come back.  You’re scaring me here," he finally admitted.

 

Jim’s voice seemed to reach him and Blair blinked his eyes rapidly.  "Jim…What…?"

 

"You back?"

 

Hesitantly, Blair nodded.  "My mom…"

 

The moan tore at Jim’s heart and he gathered Blair close again.  "Oh, Blair, I’m sorry."  Then, as he was holding the younger man, the earlier words registered.  "What did you mean?  When you said that Naomi said she’d never go back.  Did you mean New York?"

 

A shudder ran through the shaking body in his arms, and Jim let the matter drop for the moment as he went back to comforting his partner.

 

***

 

Jim held Blair for what seemed an eternity, rubbing soothing circles over tense shoulders and back.  "I got us booked on the first flight to New York," Jim broke the silence, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet of the loft.  "We leave in the morning."

 

Blair remained silent, just nodding, still leaning into the comfort Jim offered.

 

"C'mon," Jim urged, beginning to guide Blair over to the table.  "I fixed some supper.  You need to try to eat something."

 

"I don't –"

 

"I know it's the last thing you want to do right now but you need to try.  You've got to keep your strength up.  For me, okay?"

 

Wordlessly, Blair allowed Jim to push him down into a chair.  Then, when Jim placed a plate of food in from of him, he mechanically picked up the fork and began eating.

 

Taking a seat opposite the younger man, Jim worriedly watched Blair eat.  His partner seemed lost again -- withdrawn into some inner thoughts that he couldn't, or wouldn't, share.  It worried the detective to see his normally vivacious and independent partner acting this way.  He knew that Naomi's disappearance would hit Blair hard but he hadn't expected this…this submissive, distant behavior.  In all honestly, he'd expected the younger man to be frantic, worried, and impatient to get to New York.

 

Again, Blair's soft words ran through his mind. From what he'd said, Jim realized that Naomi, and maybe Blair, had been to New York before.  But for Naomi to promise that she'd never go back…  Something must have motivated that promise and, judging by Blair's behavior, that something must have been pretty bad.

 

The cop in Jim wanted to demand some answers from Blair.  But, looking at his partner's pale face and shivering body, the man in him demanded that he comfort and protect his lover, even if he didn't know what he was protecting Blair from.  Clenching his jaw, he watched as Blair took one final bite and then set his fork down.

 

"No more.  I can't.  Okay?"  Blair sounded hesitant, as if worried about how Jim would react.

 

"That's fine, Chief.  You did good."  Jim stood and gathered up the two plates to carry them over to the sink.  As he cleaned up, he could sense Blair behind him as the younger man shifted in his seat.

 

"What time…" His voice breaking, Blair cleared his throat before trying again.  "What time do we leave in the morning?"

 

"Eight," Jim answered, without turning around.

 

"I'd better go pack."

 

Hearing Blair start to rise, Jim said, "It's okay, Chief.  I already packed for both of us."

 

Standing, seeming unsure of what to do with himself, Blair glanced around the loft.  "Well…I…I guess I'll go take a shower.  We'll be rushed in the morning, probably.  So I…I'm just gonna…" Trailing off, Blair seemed to draw in on himself as he started across the room.

 

When Jim heard the bathroom door shut, he turned around.  "Something is going on with you, Chief. Something more than just Naomi’s disappearance.  I just wish you'd tell me what."  Sighing, he began cleaning up again.

 

***

 

Later that night, Blair lay on his side with Jim spooned up behind him.  Though both men were awake, neither spoke.

 

Wanting to do something…anything…to help, Jim tightened his hold on Blair, pulling the younger man more fully against his chest.  Leaning forward, he nuzzled into the hair covering Blair's neck until his lips encountered bare skin.  He nipped and kissed as his hands began to stroke the slightly furred chest.

 

At first, Blair relaxed into the contact -- moaning as Jim's fingers teased his nipples, before drifting lower to stroke his stomach.  Then, he suddenly stiffened.  "Stop, Jim."

 

It took a moment for the words to register but when they did, Jim instantly stilled.  "Blair?"

 

"I…I can't.  Not right now.  Could you just hold me?  Please?"

 

"Of course, Baby."  Jim wrapped his arms around Blair again.  "Just try to get some sleep.  I've got you.  You're safe."  Jim didn't know why he said the words, why he felt that Blair needed to hear them, but they seemed to ease some of his partner’s tension.  Jim placed a gentle kiss on Blair's shoulder.  "You're safe."

 

Sighing, unshed tears stinging his eyes, Blair brought his own arms up to rest over Jim's.  The tightness in his chest seemed to loosen as he leaned back into the embrace. 

 

He tried closing his eyes, but a blur of images raced through his mind -- a jumbled array that made no sense.  Naomi, her face twisted in pain.  A man, vaguely familiar somehow, a look of anger on his face as he reached out to grab…to grab…

 

The image refused to become any clearer and he suppressed a shiver as a sudden, inexplicable feeling of fear grabbed hold of him.

 

Jim could sense Blair's distress.  He could feel the younger man's pain almost as if it were his own.  And he was desperate to make it better.  But he couldn't do that until he knew what demons his partner was facing, demons that Jim suspected went beyond Naomi’s disappearance.

 

However, he knew that Blair wasn't ready to deal with it yet, whatever it was.  So he would have to wait, to let Blair tell him about it in his own time.  The frustration, the feeling of being helpless to help the man he loved, was just something he'd have to deal with until then.

 

Sleep didn't come to either man that night.  When the alarm sounded the next morning, they were still awake, lying in each other's arms.

 

***

 

Reaching over, Jim stilled the bouncing knee, receiving a sheepish look from Blair.  "Sorry."

 

Jim sighed.  It wasn't the first time his partner had apologized to him that morning since they'd climbed out of bed, both men feeling tired and drained.  "Just try to stay clam, Chief."  Jim gave the knee a small squeeze and then moved his hand away before they could draw attention to themselves.

 

The flight had been booked and the plane was full.  The last thing his nervous and worried partner needed right now was to deal with someone’s prejudice or hatred.  "I know you’re concerned about Naomi.  I am, too.  But there’s nothing we can do until we actually get to New York."

 

"I know, it’s just…" Blair bit his bottom lip, looking down at his feet.  "God, Jim, if something has happened to her, I…I don’t know what I’ll do.  She’s my mom, man."

 

"And we’re going to find her.  I promise, Blair.  I don’t care how long it takes, we won’t leave New York until we do."

 

The breath rushing out of him, Blair sagged back in the seat.  "Thanks, Jim.  That means a lot."  Not in the mood to talk anymore, he turned to stare out the small window, for once not plagued by his fear of heights.  He had an even great fear at the moment, one that easily overshadowed his phobia.

 

Knowing his partner needed some quiet time, Jim scanned the cabin of the plane, making note of their fellow travelers.  He supposed that part of it was an instinctual behavior, the Sentinel assessing any possible threats to his distraught guide.

 

But mainly it was just Jim Ellison making sure that nobody messed with the man he loved.  When he saw one man, an overweight, balding businessman in his fifties, staring at them, a hint of distaste on his face, Jim merely glared, causing the other man to hastily avert his eyes.  He turned his full attention back to Blair when he heard the younger man sigh and shift in his seat.

 

"So, you checked out this SVU, didn’t you?  What about this Benson?  She a good cop?"

 

"Yeah, she seems to be."  Jim shifted in his seat as well, turning towards Blair.  "Her partner is a guy named Elliot Stabler.  They, along with the rest of their department, seem to have a pretty good record.  Lots of arrests and convictions."

 

"What…what about finding people?"

 

"Blair, I’m sure they’re doing everything that they can to find Naomi.  From what I found out, they’re good cops who know how to get the job done."

 

"Yeah, well, even so, I’d rather have you looking for my mom."

 

"I don’t know how much involvement their captain will allow.  I’m hoping that he’ll give us some leeway since I’m on the job but I won’t know until we get there."  Jim shrugged.  "Besides, who says that we need to work with them in order to find Naomi.  We can look for her on our own if we have to.  No matter what, I’m not going to let anybody stand in our way."

 

"Thanks, Jim."  Blair leaned against his partner, his head resting on Jim’s shoulder.

 

Jim glanced down at the curly-haired head in surprise.  They weren’t usually so demonstrative in public, even though most of their closest friends knew about their relationship.  "Chief?"

 

"Right now, I don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks."  Blair closed his eyes, basking in the solid comfort his partner’s body provided.  "I don’t want to be strong right now.  I don’t want to be brave.  All I want is to sit here and lean on you for a little bit.  Once we get to New York, once we’re around all those cops, I’ll put on the tough act.  But not just yet.  Please."

 

"Anything you need, you know that."  Jim put his arm around Blair’s shoulder, drawing the younger man more firmly against his side.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

"That must be Benson and Stabler," Jim announced as they disembarked from the plane.  He’d immediately spotted the man and woman waiting in the terminal.

 

"Yeah, they scream ‘cop’ even more than you do."

 

There was a faint smile on Blair’s face and Jim was glad to see a temporarily lift in his partner’s spirits.

 

He walked up to the woman, set down one of the two suitcases he carried, and extended his hand.  "Detective Benson?"  Behind him, he could hear Blair setting down his own suitcase and duffel bag, though he noticed his partner maintained his hold on the worn backpack he’d insisted on keeping with him during the plane ride.

 

"Yeah, I’m Olivia Benson," she said as she clasped Jim’s hand.  "This is my partner, Elliot Stabler."

 

"Jim Ellison."  Jim shook Elliot’s hand as well.  "This is my partner, Blair Sandburg."

 

Olivia turned her attention to the man standing slightly to the side and behind the Cascade detective.  Briefly, taking in the long, curly hair and the ear bearing not one but two rings, she wondered how the two men had met and, as her gaze drifted back to the tall, muscular, imposing man with the piercing blue eyes, she hoped their partnership was strictly professional.

 

"Ah, hello."  Shaking her head, she dispelled those thoughts and spoke to their victim’s son.  "Detective Sandburg, I want to assure you that we’re going to do everything we can to find your mother."

 

Blair had noticed her preoccupation with his partner but didn’t let his displeasure show.  Looking at the detective, he knew that she was the type of woman his partner used to date – strong, independent, and beautiful.  He sighed, not needing the feelings of insecurity on top of everything else he was experiencing at the moment.  "It’s Blair and I’m not a detective."

 

"But Detective Ellison said –"

 

"Sandburg’s a grad student," Jim explained, having heard the interaction between them.  "But he’s an observer and consultant to my department."  He shrugged.  "As far as I’m concerned, he’s my partner, even though he isn’t a cop. He’s helped me on some pretty hard cases and I can always trust him to watch my back."

 

"Hey, Blair, it’s nice to meet you.  Though I wish it hadn’t been under these circumstances."  Blair turned toward the warm, tenor voice and found himself under Elliot Stabler’s intense scrutiny.

 

"Yeah, same here."  He tightened his hold on his backpack and held out his hand to the detective.  It was immediately captured in a firm embrace.  Clearing his throat, he broke off the contact and took a step closer to Jim.

 

"Look, why don’t we get you set up in a hotel and then we can head down to the precinct and tell you what we’ve got so far."  Without waiting for an answer, he bent down and picked up the suitcase and duffel bag that Blair had set down.  He looked up, catching Jim’s eye and noted the expression of disapproval on the other man’s face.  "Something the matter?"

 

Jim clenched his jaw, not sure why the other detective grated on his nerves so much.  He felt very put off by the man’s actions towards Blair, seeing them as a threat for some reason.  "I can take the bags," he said, his voice a low growl, as he hefted his own two suitcases.

 

"No offense but it looks like you’ve got your hands full."  Elliot tightened his grip on Blair’s luggage.  Hell, Ellison was Sandburg’s partner; on and off the job by the way Ellison was acting.  And he sure as hell wasn’t interested in Sandburg.  But for some reason, he already felt very protective towards the obviously worried and scared young man.  It was almost like the parental concern he felt for his kids.

 

Once again, Olivia stepped forward to defuse a possible confrontation.  "We really should be going."  She reached over and took the duffel bag from Elliot, having to give a hard yank to get it out of her partner’s hand.  She watched as Blair laid a hand on Jim’s arm, the contact seeming to break whatever spell the Cascade detective had fallen under.

 

"Let’s go, Jim.  I want to find out what’s going on."

 

Jim’s stance relaxed, though only marginally.  "Okay, Chief.  Let’s go."

 

Quietly, the two Cascade men followed the detectives out of the terminal and through a crowded parking lot over to a nondescript, older, gray 4-door car.

 

Jim stood by the trunk, waiting while Elliot fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked it.  He tossed his two suitcases inside then stepped aside, watching as Elliot and Olivia placed Blair’s luggage inside as well.

 

Acutely conscious of the tension radiating between the two men, Blair asked, "Can we just hold off on the hotel for now?  I’d really like to find out what you know about Naomi first."

 

"Chief –"

 

"Blair –"

 

Both Elliot and Jim had spoken at the same time.  Elliot looked at Jim, his expression clearly saying, ‘Go ahead’.  Jim nodded slightly in response.

 

"I know you want to find out about your mom, but –"

 

"Please, Jim.  I need to know."

 

Jim took one look at the pain-filled eyes and couldn’t resist.  He sighed and turned to Elliot, shrugging one shoulder.  "Look, Stabler –"

 

"Get in," he interrupted.  "If you guys haven’t ate, we can stop and grab a bite on the way."

 

"I…" Jim caught the quick glance Elliot shot Blair’s way.  Looking at his partner, he realized that neither of them had had anything to eat since breakfast that.  "Yeah, that sounds good."

 

Once they were in the car, Elliot and Olivia in the front seat, Jim and Blair in the back, Olivia turned around and asked, "Any preferences?"

 

Blair looked slightly nauseous.  "Whatever you all want is fine.  I really don’t think I could eat anything right now anyway."

 

"You need to at least try to eat a little something," Jim coaxed.  "I’ll feel better if you do."  He wasn’t above using a little manipulation if it involved his partner’s welfare.

 

"I guess maybe something light…" Blair sounded uncertain, looking forward into the rearview mirror, only to catch a concerned glance from Elliot. 

 

"I know just the place."  Elliot looked over at his partner.  "Goldstein’s okay with you?"

 

"Fine."

 

"There’s this deli not too far from the station.  I think we’ll be able to find something for everyone there."

 

"Sounds good," Jim agreed.

 

They traveled in silence, bordering on uncomfortable.

 

Jim shifted in the seat, aware of Blair’s presence next to him.  His partner’s shoulders were slumped, his eyes downcast.  Shooting a look to the front, seeing that the two New York detectives weren’t paying any overt attention to them; he wrapped an arm around Blair and drew the younger man to him.

 

He knew he’d done the right thing when his partner sighed deeply and relaxed into the loose hold.  Knowing that he couldn’t say what he wanted to at the moment, not able to offer reassurances, he clenched his jaw and looked out the window.

 

As he watched the unfamiliar city pass by, he let himself finally acknowledge his own doubts.  He knew that the odds of them finding Naomi alive and unharmed were very slim.  And he couldn’t help wondering if he would be able to keep his partner from falling apart if, or when, they found her body.

 

If they even were able to find her at all, that is.  He didn’t know which was worse.  To not find her and forever be wondering if she was out there somewhere, alive.  Or to find her and know that she was truly gone.  Brandishing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he tightened his hold on Blair.

 

In the front seat, Elliot surreptitiously glanced in the rearview mirror, studying their passengers.  Taking in their closeness and the detective’s protective posture, he knew his suspicions had been confirmed.  From nearly the first moment he had laid eyes on the two men, he’d instinctively known that they were together.

 

Having also seen the way his partner had been checking out the Cascade detective, he hoped that she knew it as well.  For some reason, the thought of Blair being hurt in any way didn’t sit well with him.  Which is why he was more determined than ever to find the younger man’s missing mother.

 

When they arrived at the deli, Elliot parked and turned around to look into the backseat.  "If you want, Olivia and I can go in and get something while you guys stay here."

 

"Yeah, thanks."  Jim started to reach for his wallet.

 

"Hey, no, it’s on us."

 

Jim nodded to Elliot.  "I’ll take a sandwich, any kind will do, and a bottled water."  He turned to Blair.  "Chief?"

 

"Huh?"  Blair shook himself, dazed.  "Oh, we’re at the deli."  He reached for the door handle, but Jim reached over to still his hand.

 

"It’s okay.  Benson and Stabler are going to go in.  What do you want?"

 

Blair shrugged.  "Really, I’m not all that hungry."

 

Sighing, Jim turned back to Elliot.  "Just get him a turkey sandwich on rye, easy on the mayonnaise.  Water for him too."

 

"Sure thing."

 

Waiting until after the two detectives had left, Jim wrapped an arm around Blair’s shoulders again.  "Look, I know it’s tough but you really need to eat something, Baby.  Keep your strength up.  ‘kay?"

 

"I know you’re right, but I just…" Blair rubbed a hand over his eyes.  "I feel like I’m all tied up in knots here, Jim.  I can’t help thinking about what my mom must be going through right now.  I’ve been kidnapped; I know how scary it is.  And then I keep wondering if she’s hurt.  Or if she’s…is she’s de…d…" Trailing off, Blair took a deep, shuddering breath.

 

Turning, Jim gathered the younger man into his arms.  He guided Blair’s head to his shoulder and slowly stroked his hand up and down his back as Blair clutched at him.  He looked up and saw the two SVU detectives approaching the car.  Catching Elliot’s eye, he motioned for them to keep back.

 

***

 

"Hey, Liv, hold up a minute."

 

"What?"  An impatient look on her face, Olivia came to a halt.  "Something wrong?"

 

"I forgot something."

 

"Well, go on back in.  I’m going to head to the car."

 

"Aw, c’mon, Liv, you really expect me to carry all this by myself?  Give me a hand, huh?"

 

"El –"

 

Walking back over to the deli’s entrance, he pushed opened the door with his shoulder.  Turning so his back was to the door, he looked over at his partner and jerked his head towards the inside.

 

Rolling her eyes, Olivia went back inside.

 

***

 

Jim pulled back, his hands on Blair’s shoulders.  "We will find her, Blair."

 

"You can’t promise that, Jim, so just stop it, okay?"  Withdrawing, Blair separated from Jim.  Angrily, he wiped at his eyes.  "Don’t you think I’ve ridden with you long enough to know what the situation is?  Don’t you think I know that odds are my mom is dead already?  I’m not that same naïve guy who walked into that examination room.  I’ve seen things, Jim.  Hell, I’ve been right in the middle of some pretty serious shit.  So don’t sit there and tell me that everything is going to be okay because you and I both know that’s not true."

 

"You can’t give up."

 

"I’m not giving up, I’m just trying to be realistic here.  Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?  Check my emotions at the door?"

 

"This is different, Blair, and you know it."  Jim was determined to keep a hold on his temper.  He knew that it was just Blair’s fear talking at the moment.  "You know that I don’t expect you to be –"

 

"Be what, Jim?  Unemotional?  Detached?  Yeah, that’s your job, isn’t it?"

 

"You know damn well that’s not true.  I want to find her just as much as you do.  You know that I care about what happens to Naomi.  And I care about you, damn it.  I just hate to see you suffering, Blair, and it pisses me off that I can’t do anything about it!  That I can’t make it better."  His frustration getting the better of him, Jim balled up his fist and struck the back of the driver’s seat.

 

"God, I’m sorry, Jim."  The anguish in Blair’s voice made Jim wince.  "I just…I just feel so damn helpless."  Facing the window, his back to Jim, Blair leaned forward until his forehead touched the glass.  "I’m supposed to look after her, you know.  Protect her.  I always tried to do that, even when she… There were times when it was a hard thing to do.  Sometimes, the thing I needed to protect her from the most was herself.  She… I love her.  I love her so much.  She’s my mom.  But sometimes… sometimes it was so hard.  I was never strong enough or tough enough.  Or… or just enough."

 

Despite how much he had wanted to know the reason behind Blair’s cryptic words, both now and the night before, Jim didn’t know whether or not he welcomed this view into his partner’s past.  But then like always, like every time he tried to get Blair to open up to him, to tell him more about his past, the younger man closed down, withdrawing from him.  "Blair –"

 

Sniffling, Blair straightened and wiped at his face as he drew in a deep breath.  "What’s taking them so long?  They should be done by now, shouldn’t they?"

 

"Blair, I –"

 

"Maybe we should go in and see what’s going on?"  Ignoring Jim, Blair reached for his seatbelt but Jim’s hand reached over to still him.  "I know you have a lot of questions right now.  But I just can’t.  Maybe later.  But not… not now.  ‘kay?"

 

"Okay."  Jim’s voice was low, the one word showing all of his concern and love.

 

Blair nodded, still not looking at the older man.

 

"Here comes Benson and Stabler," Jim said.  "You think you’re gonna be okay?"

 

"Yeah.  I’ve got you, don’t I?"  The last was a question, hesitant and unsure.

 

"Always."  Jim smiled softly and squeezed Blair’s hand briefly before letting go.

 

***

 

The two SVU detectives got into the car and then handed some food over to Jim and Blair.  "I got some soup for Blair," Elliot announced as he passed back a Styrofoam cup.  "It’s chicken noodle.  I thought the sandwich might be a little much right now so he can save it for later if he wants."

 

"Thanks."  Jim took the cup and handed it over to Blair.  He then accepted the bag Olivia was holding out. 

 

As he grabbed it, she held on for a little longer than necessary. "You’re welcome."

 

Aware of the interaction, Elliot glanced in the rearview mirror and was glad to see that Blair didn’t seem to have noticed anything.  Clearing his throat, he jammed the key in the ignition.  "We’ll head to the station now."

 

Olivia turned around and fastened her seatbelt.  After Elliot had pulled out onto the street, she fixed his sandwich and passed it over before getting her own.

 

In the backseat, Blair lifted the lid on his soup and sipped the hot liquid.  "Hmmm… This is good, Detective Stabler.  Thanks."

 

"No problem.  And it’s Elliot."  Coming to a stop at a red light, the detective looked into the rearview mirror, meeting Blair’s eyes, and smiled.

 

"Elliot, right."  Blair smiled back briefly and then looked down, breaking off the contact.

 

Amused, Elliot saw how Jim seemed to bristle and edge closer to the younger man.  He didn’t have any interest in Blair but he had to admit to a certain amount of pleasure at the thought of his behavior throwing Jim off balance.

 

His protective feeling towards the younger man had flared again when he saw his partner’s obvious flirtatious actions towards the Cascade detective.  Sometime soon he knew he’d have to have a private talk with her about it.  He knew she’d back off when she realized that the two men were together.

 

***

 

When they arrived at the station, Elliot pitched the remains of their lunch and then he and Olivia led the way to SVU.

 

"Elliot, Olivia," their captain called out, drawing their attention.  "I assume this is Mr. Sandburg and Detective Ellison."

 

"Yeah, they are, Cap," Elliot answered, taking off his jacket before sitting down at his desk.

 

"Hello, gentleman, I’m Captain Donald Cragen."  He turned to Blair.  "Mr. Sandburg –"

 

"Please, just Blair is fine."

 

The captain smiled.  "Blair, I just want to let you know that we’re going to do everything we can to find your mother."

 

Blair nodded.

 

Sensing his partner’s distress, Jim took a step forward so that Blair was partially hidden behind him.  "Captain Cragen, I know it’s not standard procedure, but I’d really like to be involved in this.  I’m not doubting your detectives, but this one is personal.  I don’t think I can just go sit in some hotel room and wait for the phone to ring.  I want… I need to do something.  And so does Sandburg."

 

"Detective Ellison –"

 

"Look, I know you’re gonna say that Blair’s not a cop, that he’s too close on this one, but you have to understand something.  He’s been riding with me for a couple of years now, acting as my partner.  He’s held his own in some pretty tough situations and knows how to handle himself in an investigation.  I know we’re asking a lot, but –"

 

Donald held up a hand.  "Please, Detective, let me say something."  When Jim nodded, he continued.  "I spoke with your Captain at great lengths and he’s told me about some of the cases, ones of a personal nature, that the two of you have been involved with.  I have to say that I normally wouldn’t allow something like that in my department.  It’s against regulations and can lead to problems.  But…"  He looked at both men closely.  "But I’m willing to make an exception in this case.  With some conditions, though."

 

"Sure," Jim agreed for both of them.

 

"First, the two of you are to stay here in the precinct; you will not go to the crime scene and you will not go out on any calls.  Second, you will do what Detectives Benson and Stabler tell you to do.  I’m not going to have the two of you running around out of control.  Understood?"

 

"Yes, Captain," Jim once again answered for Blair as well as himself.

 

Shaking his head, looking as if he were already regretting his decision, the captain turned to his own detectives.  "These two are your responsibility.  They screw up, it’s on you."

 

The partners exchanged a look, some silent communication passing between them, then Elliot answered, "Sure thing, Cap."

 

"Now what have you got so far?"  Donald asked.  "Since they’re here, you might as well give your report now and bring us all up to speed."

 

"We’re still waiting on Forensics," Olivia stated.

 

"What’s with the holdup?"

 

"Well," Olivia glanced over at Blair, hesitating.

 

"Look, if this is going to be a problem, I’m going to send them out of here."  Donald jerked his thumb at Blair and Jim.

 

"It’s not a problem," Olivia hastily reassured when she saw the glare on Jim’s face.  "The Paradise Inn isn’t exactly one of the most…upstanding…motels.  It does a lot of business and there was a lot of trace evidence for forensics to collect and sort through."

 

"What kind of business?"  Jim asked, though he already suspected what the answer would be.

 

"The by-the-hour kind."  It was Elliot who answered.  "Look, we might as well get everything out in the open, right?  That’s the only way we’re going to find Ms. Sandburg.  So, the place she was staying at is frequently raided by Vice.  And we’ve got the manager’s statement saying that a number of men were seen coming and going from her room."

 

Jim looked at Blair, expecting some kind of protest, some outburst in defense of his mother, but was surprised to see that there was no trace of shock on the younger man’s face.  "Blair…"

 

"Naomi and I were in New York once before," Blair said, his voice quiet.  "It all came back last night, when you told me where she was, Jim.  I guess I just kinda blocked some of it out over the years.  But…um…she…um…she hooked up with this guy.  I didn’t like him.  He…he had this way about him.  He could talk her into doing anything, things she never would have done otherwise, things she was always against.  If she’s here and she met up with him…but, damn it, he’s supposed to be in prison."

 

The group of police officers looked at each other before turning their gazes on Blair.  It was Jim who approached him.  "Is this what you were talking about earlier?  About protecting your mom?  Talk to me, Blair.  Tell me who you’re talking about."

 

Blair opened his mouth, but then abruptly shut it again.  He blinked rapidly.  "I think I need to sit down."

 

Elliot stood, wheeling his chair over to Blair.  With a hand on his shoulder, he guided the younger man down.  "Here you go."

 

Jim moved to his side and knelt down.  "Take your time."  Not caring who saw, or what they might think, he reached over and grabbed Blair’s hands, which lay, clasped together, in his lap.

 

"When…when I was thirteen, Naomi decided that we should come to New York for a while.  I…I wanted to go, too.  She knew some people here and they let us stay with them.  It was…it was a small apartment.  One bedroom.  The couple, they shared the room while Naomi and I slept on a fold-out couch in the living room.  It was summertime and they got involved in some kind of protest.  I was bored so I started hanging out at the library and the museum.  One day…one day I came back to the apartment and…" He looked at the police officers, his eyes beseeching.  "You have to understand that it wasn’t her fault.  It was mine.  I should have been there to look out for her, to protect her.  She’s not to blame."

 

"It’s okay, Blair.  We understand."  Jim squeezed Blair’s hands, offering whatever reassurance and support he could.

 

"I came back one day and there was…there was this guy there."  Blair looked down at his and Jim’s joined hands as he haltingly spoke.  "I knew right away that I didn’t like him.  There was just something about him.  The way he looked at Naomi.  The way he…he looked at me.  It was like there was this…this hunger in his eyes.  It scared me.  But Naomi couldn’t see it.  I tried to tell her, but I was too late.  The guy already had her under his spell.  It’s like he just…she was just mesmerized by him or something.  She had our stuff packed and said we were going to stay with him.  I didn’t want to, but I didn’t have any choice."

 

Blair looked up at Jim, causing the older man’s breath to catch at the pain he saw in the deep blue eyes.  "She was going and I had to be there to protect her.  It was…it was bad.  The guy, he got Naomi hooked on heroin.  She’d never done any heavy drugs like that before.  I mean sure, she smoked pot every once in a while, but that was it.  After a while, he…he…made her work."  None of them had to ask what he meant by that, it was clear to everyone.  "He…he even tried…tried to make me..." He turned to Jim, tears shining in his eyes.  "But I didn’t.  I swear I didn’t, Jim.  No matter how many times he beat me up, I wouldn’t do it."

 

Inside, Jim was seething.  Hearing this…hearing what Blair had gone through all because of Naomi, Jim was filled with an incredible sense of rage -- a great deal of it directed towards the missing woman.  But he knew that his partner couldn’t handle his rage at the moment.  Not with everything else Blair was dealing with.  "I know, Blair.  It’s okay.  None of it was your fault.  You were a kid.  It was that son of a bitch.  He’s the one to blame here, not you."

 

"But I am.  Don’t you see?  If I had been strong enough, I could have convinced Naomi to leave.  I could have convinced her that…that she didn’t need him, or the drugs, because…because she had me.  But I wasn’t enough."

 

"Aw, Blair."  Jim leaned over, pulling Blair against him and into a tight embrace.

 

For a few moments, Blair accepted the comfort, clutching at Jim as if he were afraid his partner would disappear.  But then, knowing that everyone was watching them, he pulled back, wiping at his eyes as he cleared his throat.  "We had been there for about a month and one day Naomi and I had gone out to get some stuff.  When we were coming back, we saw the guy being taken out of the building in handcuffs.  Naomi started to go to him, but I was able to pull her back.  She was in bad shape, so I…I took her back to her friends’ place.  I didn’t think they were going to let us in at first, but they did."

 

Blair paused, taking several deep, shuddering breaths.  "They…they really helped me…helped Naomi, too.  They let us stay there while Naomi got cleaned up.  It…it was pretty bad at times, but it was better than how it had been before…with him.  By the time she got herself pulled together, the guy had gone to trial and was convicted.  Homicide.  Seems he got in a fight with some guy and killed him.  Naomi was going to go see him and I knew I couldn’t let that happen, so I…I told her…about him trying to put me out on the streets.  The thing was, she didn’t even really look all that mad, like she couldn’t get angry with him, not even about that. She just looked kinda sad.  We left New York and never came back."

 

"A few years later, I found the letters…ones from him," Blair continued, seemingly oblivious to the group of police officers watching him.  "I confronted her with them and she…she acted like none of it ever happened.  Like she didn’t remember any of it and that everything had been good with him.  I never could understand it.  Shortly after that, I left for college.  We…we never talked about it again.  She’d come for a visit and we’d both act like everything was fine, that everything had always been fine.  I think we both knew that it was the only way…the only way we could still have a relationship.  We both just forget, let it go."  He chuckled, the noise sounding hollow.  "Detach with love."

 

While Blair was talking, Elliot had kneeled down on his other side and placed a hand on his shoulder.  Now, he squeezed his hand, drawing the younger man’s attention.  "What is this guy’s name, Blair?"

 

"Drew…Drew Morgan."

 

Elliot squeezed Blair’s shoulder one more time.  "I'm not saying that your mom didn't hook up with this guy if he actually is out."  Elliot shot Jim a look before continuing.  "From the interviews we’ve conducted, it looks like your mom was working."  He didn’t have to clarify -- Blair’s wince and the look of pain on his face showed that he knew what the SVU detective meant.  "And that she was doing it to support her habit.  But…one of the girls we talked to said she last saw your mom get into a dark car, and that instead of taking it to the motel, like usual, the car took off."

 

Elliot paused and cleared his throat, loath to bring any more pain to the young man sitting before him.  "We also had a report of something similar.  A woman turned up at the ER.  She’s a working girl and she said she escaped from some john who picked her up.  The guy was driving a car that matched the description of the one your mom was seen getting into."

 

"What…what else did she say?  This woman?"  Blair looked at Elliot, a hopeful look in his eyes.  "Did she say where the guy took her?  If this guy took my mom, then she could be there right now."

 

"Blair…" Elliot sighed.  "I’m sorry.  She was in shock, couldn’t really tell us a whole lot.  We didn’t get anything useful out of her."  The sound of a phone ringing made Elliot pause and he glanced over to see Olivia answer his phone with a quiet ‘hello’.  "I did leave my card with her so that if she remembers anything, she can let us know.  I’ve also been running the partial plate we got on the car, seeing if we can find any matches.  But so far…so far we haven’t had a whole lot of luck."

 

Jim ran a hand over his face, deeply affected by Blair’s words.  He pushed aside the need to get out on the streets, to do something, anything, to try to find Naomi and ease some of the younger man’s suffering.  But when he looked over at Blair, seeing the pale face and tears filling the pain-filled eyes, he came to a decision.  "I’m…I’m going to take Blair and check into the hotel.  I think he needs a break right now."  He turned to look at Elliot.  "I made reservations at the Hilton Inn, it’s nearby.  We’ll be in room 358."

 

"No, Jim, I want –"

 

"We’re going, Blair, and that’s final.  You’re exhausted and you’re wrung out.  You…we need to rest for a little while."  Jim knew that Blair was angry but he was determined to do what he felt was best for his partner right now.  And if that meant Blair was pissed at him, then that’s the way it had to be.

 

"I’ll have Munch take you over there," Donald offered.  "Olivia and Elliot can check out the story on this Morgan guy.  See if he’s out and if he’s seen Ms. Sandburg."

 

Jim nodded his thanks.

 

When the Captain motioned Munch over, Elliot dug out his keys and tossed them over.  "Their stuff is in our car."

 

"Why don’t you guys just take mine," Munch offered, throwing his keys over to be caught in Elliot’s outstretched hand.  "I’m not as good of a chauffeur as Elliot, but I’ll get you there in one piece."  Munch smiled, trying to ease some of the tension evident in the two Cascade men.

 

"Yeah, thanks."  Jim stood and held his hand out to Blair.

 

Ignoring the gesture, Blair stood and walked over to Elliot.  "You’ll let us know if you find out anything about my mom?"

 

Elliot nodded.  "Promise."

 

"Okay."  Bypassing Jim, Blair went to stand over by Munch.

 

Jaw clenched, Jim followed as the SVU detective led them back to the car.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

Once they were gone, Elliot turned to Olivia.  "What was that about?"

 

"That was the doctor from the hospital -- Weston.  Seems our vic, Elaine Wright, died a little while ago."  The two detectives locked eyes, knowing what that meant for Naomi’s chances of being found alive.

 

Elliot ran a hand over his face.  "I don’t want to tell Sandburg yet," he stated.  "He can’t handle it right now.  Not on top of what he just went through."

 

"Yeah, he could use some time," Olivia agreed.  "I’ll check into this Morgan character.  See what his story is."

 

"Right," her partner agreed.  "Meanwhile," he went over to his desk and turned on his computer, pulling up the search results on the car, "I’ll keep looking for our needle in the haystack."

 

***

 

"Got it!"  Olivia held a piece of paper in her hand as she stood up.  When Elliot looked her way, she added, "Morgan was paroled six months ago.  I’ve got his last known address.  Wanna go check it out?"

 

"You know it."  Elliot stood and grabbed his jacket.  "Let’s go."

 

Once they were on the street, in Munch’s car, Elliot casually asked, "So, looks like you like this Ellison guy?"

 

Olivia shrugged.  "He’s all right."

 

"Look, you know that I try to stay out of your personal life..."

 

"But…" Olivia prompted when her partner didn’t continue.

 

"But I think you should lay off Ellison.  Sandburg is going through enough right now without having to worry about you and his partner."

 

"What?"

 

"Come off it, Liv.  Don’t tell me you couldn’t see it.  Ellison and Sandburg…they’re together."

 

"Right?"  Olivia scoffed.

 

"Think about it."  Elliot let a note of impatience creep into his voice.  "Do you know of any cop that is that protective of their partner?"

 

"Well, Sandburg isn’t a cop, he’s a civilian.  Makes sense that Ellison would act a little…different…with him than he would with a regular partner."

 

"Liv…"

 

"Oh, all right."  There was a touch of exasperation to her tone.  "I guess it is conceivable that they’re together.  I just…hell, Ellison is a good looking guy and I just thought I might get to know him a little bit better."

 

"Yeah, well, do me a favor and don’t."

 

"Fine."  She was silent for a few moments, occasionally studying her partner from the corner of her eyes.

 

"What?"  Elliot finally asked, aware of the attention he was receiving.

 

"You want to tell me why this has got you so worked up?"  Olivia asked.  "What’s going on with you, partner?"

 

"It’s just…" Elliot paused, debating rather or not to confide in his partner. They were close, being partners they had to be, but usually they tried to keep their private lives separate from the job. Finally, Elliot confessed, "Hell, Olivia, Kath told me that she had an affair."

 

"Damn," she commiserated, trying not to let her surprise show. She’d always assumed that her partner had a perfect marriage – the perfect family.

 

"Yeah," he agreed.  "She said it’s over now but that she felt she couldn’t keep it from me any longer.  She wants to get counseling, try to make things better between the two of us.  We start next week."

 

"Did she say who it was?"

 

"No, and, believe me, I asked.  I guess she was afraid I’d do something if I knew who it was.  Who knows, she may be right.  Anyway, I guess that’s why the thing with you and Ellison bothered me so much.  Sandburg is going through enough right now.  He doesn’t need to worry about something happening between you and his partner.  I feel for him is all."

 

"You’re right, El. I’ll ease up on Ellison."

 

Elliot nodded.

 

After a few moments of silence, Olivia said, "I’m sorry about Kathy."

 

"Yeah, me too," Elliot sighed, a little of the tension seeming to leave his body.  "But I can see how it could happen.  This job…it puts a lot of stress on a relationship.  And I have to admit that there were times when I wasn’t there like I should have been.  I don’t know.  I don’t know what’s going to happen."

 

"Do you want a divorce?"

 

"No.  I love her.  But I don’t know if I can get past this. I do know that I’m going to try. I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want to lose my family."

 

"If you ever need to talk…"

 

"I know."  Elliot smiled over at his partner.  "Thanks."

 

"Hey, what are partners for?"

 

***

 

After getting them checked in and up to their room, Jim immediately walked over to Blair and enfolded him into his arms as soon as they were alone.  At first, his partner stood passively, neither rejecting nor accepting the embrace.  But soon, as Jim waited patiently, Blair arms came up to wrap around Jim’s waist and he fisted his hands in the back of the older man’s shirt.

 

For a long while they simply stood there, silently holding each other.  Finally though, Jim moved his hands to Blair’s arms and held him at arm’s length.  "You sit down," he ordered.  "I’m going to go run you at bath – no arguments – and after you get done we’re going to get something from room service.  Then, after we’ve both eaten, we’re going to get some sleep."

 

"Jim –"

 

"Do it for me, Baby.  Please?"  Jim knew that his partner wouldn’t be able to say no since he asked Blair to do it for him.  Though he felt uncomfortable using those tactics, he wasn’t above resorting to them when it came to his partner’s well being.

 

Keeping a hold on Blair, Jim walked him over to the bed and urged him down onto it.  "Stay here while I get everything ready."  Leaning over, he placed a gentle kiss to Blair’s forehead and then walked over to the bathroom.

 

Once inside, he started the water, testing to make sure the temperature was right, and then poured in some of the complimentary bath oil.  He got the towels ready and then went back to Blair.  Again, he was worried by the expression on his partner’s face – dazed and not altogether there.  It was an expression that was becoming far too frequent in his opinion, something that he didn’t like at all.  He pulled the younger man to his feet and slowly began to remove his clothing.

 

When Blair was finally standing naked before him, Jim wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him into the bathroom.  All the time he got Blair situated in the water, his partner didn't utter a word.  Realizing that Blair was dealing with some intense, and painful, memories, Jim didn’t try to get him to talk just yet.  Right now was just for him to take care of Blair.  The time for talking would come later.

 

Jim reached over and turned off the water when the tub was full.  "I’ll be right back."  Again, he leaned over and gave Blair a chaste kiss, this time on the lips.  Standing, he stared down at his partner, his heart heavy.  Sighing deeply, he turned and walked out of the bathroom.  He went over to the phone and, picking up the menu lying next to it, ordered some food, asking that it be delivered in half an hour.

 

Then he went back to his partner. Kneeling next to the tub, he picked up a cloth and soap and began gently washing Blair – the motions meant to soothe, not arouse. Through it all, Blair lay in the tub passively, his eyes closed and his head tilted back.

 

Finally Jim broke the silence as he ran the cloth over Blair’s chest.  "All those times I told you about how tough my childhood was, you never said anything.  I had no idea…"

 

"I didn’t want you to know."  Blair reached up and laid his hand on Jim’s, both resting over his heart.  "And it’s not you, so don’t go blaming yourself.  And don’t think that I…resent you telling me about your childhood.  I wanted to know.  I want to know everything about you.  I want you to share yourself with me.  Not for my diss either.  But for me…for us."

 

"It goes both ways, Blair."

 

Opening his eyes, Blair turned his head to the side.  Two deep blue eyes, filled with an endless amount of pain, stared into two pale blue eyes, filled with an endless depth of empathy and love.  "I was ashamed.  Ashamed that I couldn’t do anything, that I couldn’t make it end.  I love her so much, Jim.  She’s my mom and all the time I was growing up it was like it was the two of us against the world.  There were times when everything wasn’t perfect, but we had each other and that was enough for me.  I just…just wish it had been enough for her.  But it wasn’t.  So many times it wasn’t.  I feel like I failed her."

 

"It wasn’t you."  Jim laid his other hand on top of Blair’s.  "You were the child, Blair.  She was the adult.  She was supposed to protect you, take care of you.  I like your mom, you know I do, but she has her faults, Blair.  Some pretty big ones.  And none of that is your fault.  Whatever demons your mom is fighting, she was fighting them before you ever came along."

 

"How do you know that?"  Blair demanded.  "What if…what if it was me, my birth, that messed her up?"

 

"Aw, Baby."  Unmindful of the fact he was getting wet, Jim leaned over and wrapped his arms around Blair.  "I’ve been a cop for a while now, Blair.  I saw a lot of shit during my days in Vice.  Seen things that I’d hoped you’d never have to be exposed to.  But I guess that you already had been, huh?  Your mom…there’s this look she sometimes gets in her eyes, Blair.  One I’ve seen before, on the streets, in the bars.  I don’t know what it is – what demons are haunting her -- but I know it’s there.  And I’ve seen her face, the look in her eyes, her expression, when she’s with you.  There’s a happiness in her then, a sense of peace.  That’s what you give her.  Never doubt that."

 

"Then why, Jim?  Why?"

 

"I don’t know.  That’s not something I can answer.  But I do know that it’s not you.  It never has been.  You have to believe that.  You have to know that."

 

Quiet sobs wracked Blair’s body and Jim just held him, hoping that what he’d said would be enough, that he would be enough to help his partner get through this.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

Naomi slowly awoke, immediately struck by wave after wave of agony coursing through her body.  The pain was almost too much to bear, threatening to send her spiraling down into the darkness once again.

 

But she forced herself to stay conscious, as long as she could stand to anyway.

 

Sometime, while the man had been ravaging her body, she’d escaped the torment, retreating deep within her mind, seeking happy times shared with her son.

 

She remembered his first words, his first steps.  The first lost tooth.  The first day of school.

 

A sob escaped.  All those times that she didn’t cherish…but should have.

 

She never took the time, never saw the…the magnitude of all.

 

Never realized how quickly it would pass.

 

Too caught up in herself and her own life to see her son grow up.

 

And now it was too late.

 

Too late to make amends.

 

Too late to show Blair how much she truly loved him.

 

Too late to be the mother she should have been.

 

Too late to be the mother she wanted to be.

 

Too late.

 

Naomi longed for just one more second, one more moment in time with her son.  To tell him how sorry she was.  To tell him how much she loved him.

 

She listened in horror as the door opened.  No longer capable of words, she pleaded with her eyes.  Pleaded with him to stop.

 

No more pain.

 

No more.

 

But he came.

 

As he started again, fresh pain tormenting her, she heard a loud sound echoing around her.

 

Laughter.  Cruel, evil, malignant laughter from the monster torturing her.

 

But as the laugher continued, it changed.  Transformed.

 

Now, it was Blair’s laughter.

 

Blair’s laughter -- high and sweet and young and innocent.

 

The sound filled her and she let it sweep her away -- away from the pain and the agony until the only thing that remained was the sweet, joyous sound of Blair’s laughter.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

"Here we are," Elliot announced as he parked the car in front of a run-down, dilapidated apartment building.

 

The two partners got out of the car and slowly, warily approached the stairs leading up to the entrance.  Several dealers were making drug sales and a few prostitutes were strolling up and down the sidewalk.  Aware of the dangerous situation they were in, they were alert and very aware of their surroundings.

 

Once inside, they made their way up to the second floor, stepping carefully up the stairs to avoid the bodies of passed out drug addicts sprawled in their way.  Their noses wrinkled from the stench – the nauseating mixture of human waste, rotting trash, and decay -- that assaulting them.

 

When they reached the door to apartment 2D, Elliot took up position to the left of the doorway while Olivia mirrored his actions on the other side.  They drew their guns and Elliot silently counted down to his partner.  Reaching three, he banged on the door and yelled, "Police…open up!"

 

No one responded but both detectives could hear noise coming from inside.  Elliot glanced over at Olivia, making sure that she had him covered.  Receiving a nod, he moved in front of the door and kicked it in.  Guns held ready, they moved into the apartment.

 

***

 

A knock at the door intruded upon the temporary moment of peace that Jim and Blair had found.  Reluctantly separating, Jim stood.  "That’s probably the food."

 

Blair sniffled.  "Yeah, guess so.  You go on and let the guy in.  I’m going to get out and dry off."

 

"You gonna be okay?"

 

"Yeah."  When Jim hesitated, Blair gave him a watery smile.  "I’m not going to lie to you and say I’m okay.  We both know I’m not.  But this…you…helped."

 

Jim stared at Blair for a few moments longer, checking the younger man out with his senses.  Seeming satisfied with what he found, he nodded and left.

 

Slowly, Blair climbed out of the tub and let the water out before reaching for a towel.  He dried off and wrapped it around his waist.  Grabbing the second towel Jim had set out, he began rubbing his head, drying his hair.

 

"You coming?"  Jim called out from the other room.

 

"In a sec."  The towel now draped around his neck, Blair walked out of the bathroom.  Jim had turned down one of the double beds and had the room service tray sitting beside it.

 

Sitting on the bed, Jim patted the mattress.  "C’mere, you."

 

When he walked over to the bed, Jim moved back to sit with his back against the headboard.  Blair climbed between his spread legs and settled with his back against Jim’s chest.  Relaxing against his partner, he let out a small sigh as he closed his eyes.

 

"Hey, none of that.  I want you to eat something."  Jim reached out and snagged a sandwich from the tray.  "I know you don’t feel like it, but try.  Just half a sandwich, okay?"

 

Opening his eyes, Blair accepted the food.  "I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything."

 

"Thank you."  Jim waited until Blair had taken a bite and swallowed.  When his partner showed no signs of distress, he picked up the comb he had set on the nightstand and began combing Blair’s hair.

 

The next few minutes were spent in near silence as Blair ate while Jim took care of his hair.  Jim just smiled and gently worked on untangling a knot when his partner started in on the second half of the sandwich.  By the time Blair had finished, Jim was done.

 

"Now it’s time for some sleep."  Jim helped Blair over to the other side of the bed.  Then, he stood and quickly stripped out of his clothing.

 

"What about you?  You didn’t eat," Blair protested when Jim started to climb into the bed.

 

"I had a sandwich earlier, remember, from the deli.  I’m fine."  Softly quieting the further protests, Jim climbed into bed beside his partner.  He pulled the covers up over them and then rolled to his side, facing Blair.  Reaching out his hand, he used his fingertips to close Blair’s eyes.  "Sleep.  For a little while at least.  I’m here and I’m not going anywhere."

 

Though he kept his eyes closed, Blair’s body didn’t relax any.  He was lying on his back, his body stiff and his hands clenched into fists.

 

Jim moved until he was leaning over Blair.  His touch light, he began raining kisses over the beloved face below him – over the furrowed brow, eyes, cheeks, chin, nose and, finally, mouth.  Then he moved downward, over the neck that often bore his mark -- that was something Blair always complained about because he’d have to wear a turtleneck. But they both knew he really loved it – almost as much as Jim did. Using his tongue now as well, he trailed a path down the center of Blair’s chest, paying special homage to the skin above the heart that was filled with love for him.

 

The scent of Blair’s growing arousal rising up to meet him, Jim inhaled deeply, welcoming the familiar and coveted scent.  He licked and nipped his way to first one nipple and then the other, teasing them with lips and tongue.  When the first moan sounded, he moved on, stopping briefly to encircle the navel on the now quivering stomach before going lower still.

 

Jim looked up, seeing Blair’s head thrashing back and forth on the bed.  Then, he lowered his head, engulfing Blair in his mouth.  At the sensation of that warm mouth moving over him, Blair thrust up, only to be held still by Jim’s warm, strong hands firmly pressing his hips down.

 

***

 

Elliot and Olivia cautiously made their way inside the apartment.  Using hand signals, they indicated to each other which direction they were going to move and then fanned out.

 

From the bedroom came the sound of blaring music and the two detectives crept closer.  Reaching the closed door, they took up positions to either side.  Holding up a hand, Elliot counted down from five.  Reaching zero, his hand now a closed fist, he nodded at his partner and then moved to stand in front of the door.  Like before, he kicked it in, both of them rushing into the room, guns held at the ready.

 

Their attention was immediately drawn to the two figures entwined on the bed.  Elliot ran over and used one hand to haul the man off of the woman, dragging him to his feet and then pushing him face-first against the wall.  He pressed his gun against the man’s temple.  "Drew Morgan?"

 

"Yeah, man."  Morgan had his arms outstretched over his head, his palms pressed against the wall.

 

Elliot glanced over and saw that Olivia was checking on the woman lying on the bed.  When she looked up at him, he raised an eyebrow.

 

"She doesn’t look good," Olivia answered the silent question.  "We need an ambulance here.  Now!"

 

"I’ll call it in."  Elliot holstered his gun and pulled out his cuffs to quickly restrain Morgan.  Then, he walked him over to the corner of the room farthest from the door and pushed him down onto his knees.  Leaning down, he hissed, "Just give me a reason."

 

Recognizing the threat behind the words, Morgan stammered, "H…hey, w…we’re cool here, man."

 

"We better be."  Taking a few steps back, Elliot pulled out his cell phone and called in for an ambulance.  Then he shot Morgan another warning glare before looking towards his partner.  "What do we have?"

 

"She’s barely conscious."  Olivia knelt on the bed next to the semi-conscious woman.  "Looks like an OD."

 

"Yeah, I can see the needle marks on her arm."  Elliot shot a glance over at Morgan, making sure he was staying still.  He paced in the small space beside the bed.  "Damn it, where in the hell is that ambulance!"

 

The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.

 

"Maybe that’s them."  Olivia spared her partner a quick look before turning her attention back to the woman.

 

"Look, man, I didn’t do anything wrong," Morgan spoke up from the corner.  "I just partied with her a little bit.  Whatever she took, I didn’t have anything to do with it.  She’s a whore, man.  I just picked her up off of the street."

 

Elliot turned on Morgan, walking over and jerking the man up by his arms.  "Shut up, jerk-off.  When I want to hear something from you, I’ll let you know.  Until then, just be quiet."

 

Morgan glared when Elliot dumped him back onto the floor, but otherwise remained silent.

 

Just then, a team of paramedics barged into the room.  "What’s going on?"  One of them asked.

 

"Probable OD," Olivia informed as she moved out of their way.

 

"And possible rape as well," Elliot added, causing Morgan to protest once again.

 

"We need to get her stabilized and to the hospital," the female paramedic announced.

 

"Fine," Elliot agreed.  "Just make sure that someone checks in with Benson or Stabler from SVU and lets us know what her condition is."

 

"You got it," the paramedic agreed.  "Now, how about getting out of here and giving us room to do our job?"

 

***

 

The two SVU detectives took Morgan down to the station and put him in an interrogation room.  But even after some rather intense questioning, he still refused to admit that he even knew Naomi or Blair.

 

"What do you think?"  Olivia asked, as they left the interrogation room, needing a break.

 

"I don’t think we’re going to get anything out of him." 

 

"Maybe we should get Ellison and Sandburg down here," Olivia suggested.  "This guy might be a little bit more cooperative if he sees them."

 

"I just hate to put the kid through that, though."

 

"So do I, but it may be our only shot at getting this guy to talk."

 

"All right," Elliot reluctantly agreed.  "But I want to go to the hotel and get them.  I don’t want to tell him about Morgan in the middle of the squadroom.  We can tell him at the hotel, give him some time to deal, then bring him back here."

 

"Sounds like a plan."

 

***

 

A knock at the door woke Jim and he quietly got out of bed, not wanting Blair to wake up as well.  He took a moment to cover his still sleeping lover and then pulled on his jeans before walking over to the door.

 

"Yeah, who is it?" he asked as he cracked the door open.

 

"Benson and Stabler."

 

"Hang on a minute."  Jim glanced back at Blair, taking a moment to check the younger man with his senses.  Then he eased outside.  "What is it?"

 

"Mind if we go inside?"  A hint of annoyance could be heard in Elliot’s voice.

 

"Sandburg is sleeping," Jim told them.  "I’d rather not wake him if I don’t have to."

 

"We got Morgan," Elliot announced.  "He’s down at the precinct."

 

"Naomi?"

 

Elliot just shook his head.

 

Jim closed his eyes a moment before meeting the detective’s gaze again.  "What does he say?"

 

"That’s just it," Elliot replied.  "We can’t get anything out of him.  When we got to his apartment, we found him with a woman.  She was out of it, OD.  We called an ambulance and she’s at the hospital now, but she’s still unconscious.  Morgan won’t even admit to knowing Ms. Sandburg or Blair."

 

"And you want to see if Blair can get anything out of him?"

 

"It may be our only shot," Elliot admitted.

 

Jim’s jaw clenched and he engaged in a brief staring contest with the other detective.  However, realizing that Elliot might be right, Jim soon conceded.  "All right, stay out here for a minute.  Let me go wake Blair and get him coherent.  Then I’ll let you in."  Without waiting for a reply, Jim went back into the room.

 

Blair was sitting up, sleepily blinking his eyes.  "Jim?"

 

"I’m here, Baby."  Jim walked over to sit beside Blair, gathering the younger man into his arms.  "Did you sleep okay?"

 

"All right, I guess."  Blair’s voice was muffled by Jim’s chest.  He kissed his partner’s shoulder quickly before pulling back.  "I thought I heard something."

 

Jim paused, searching Blair’s face.  Then, he sighed.  "Benson and Stabler are outside," he explained.

 

"What is it?  Did they find Naomi?  Is she okay?"

 

Blair tried to jump up from the bed but Jim tightened his grip, holding the younger man down.  "Blair, wait a minute."

 

"Jim, let me go.  I want –"

 

"They didn’t find her."  Jim’s raised voice seemed to reach Blair and he settled down.

 

"They didn’t…then what, Jim?  Why are they here?"

 

"Morgan," Jim explained.  "They have him in custody but he’s not talking."  Jim didn’t tell Blair about the woman found with Morgan.  He didn’t think his partner could handle hearing about that right now.  "He’s not talking though.  Stabler seems to think that maybe…that maybe you can get the guy to talk.  That seeing you will make him a little bit more cooperative."

 

Blair tensed, fear stealing his words.  His eyes wide, he gaped at Jim.  "W…what?" he finally managed to stammer.

 

"You don’t have to," Jim hastened to reassure him.  "If you don’t want to, you don’t have to go see him."

 

"Do you think it would help?"  Blair voice was soft and hesitant.

 

Seeing his normally self-assured and confident partner so shaken and unsure rocked Jim to his core.  There were times, often in fact, when Blair deferred to him.  But the younger man always had to voice his own opinion first and often questioned Jim before eventually relenting.  This…this submissive behavior was totally different, something Jim hadn’t seen in his partner before.  And it unnerved him a great deal.

 

"It might."  Jim made sure to keep his words a suggestion, not wanting to inadvertently talk Blair into doing something that he wasn’t capable of handling.  Warily, he eyed his partner.  "I’m not saying it will, though.  There’s no guarantees here, Blair."

 

"I…I think I want to."  Blair paused, eyes downcast.  "If Elliot and Olivia think it will help then I want to try.  For Naomi.  But…but you’ll be there, won’t you?"

 

"Just let them try to keep me away."  Jim smiled softly, his smile widening when Blair returned it.  "And no matter what, Morgan won’t get anywhere near you.  I swear, Blair.  He even tries to lay one finger on you and I’ll take him down."

 

Blair just leaned into Jim, wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist.

 

Jim returned the embrace.

 

Then, reluctantly, Blair pulled back.  "We’d better get going.  They’re waiting.  I…I’m going to go into the bathroom, wash up a little bit."

 

"Okay, Baby.  I’ll get us out some clean clothes."  Jim watched as Blair stood up and walked into the bathroom.  Once the door had shut, Jim stood as well, going over to their still unpacked luggage.

 

***

 

Blair was practically glued to Jim’s side as they walked into the squadroom.  He flinched, then relaxed slightly, when he felt Jim’s arm wrap around his shoulders.

 

"This way," Elliot said as he led them down a corridor and to a door.  "He’s in here."

 

"Give me a minute."  Blair took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself.

 

"We’ll take as long as you need."  Elliot kept his voice soft and non-threatening.  "We do this in your time, okay?  No rush."

 

Taking another deep breath, Blair nodded.  "Okay, I’m ready."

 

Elliot looked over at Jim.  Then he opened the door.  "I’ll go first," he said when Blair started forward.

 

Taking a glance at Jim, as if assuring himself that the older man was still there, Blair followed after Elliot, grateful for his partner’s presence behind him.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Trying to act bored and disinterested, Morgan looked up when the door opened.  He scoffed when he saw Elliot but quickly turned serious when he saw the person entering behind him.  "What the hell…"

 

"Hey, Drew."  Everyone could hear the tremor in Blair’s voice.  "Long time, huh?"

 

"I don’t know who the fuck you are, kid," Morgan scowled.

 

"Give it up, Morgan," Elliot said, moving to stand closer to Blair’s side, not liking the way Morgan was looking at him.  "I already told you that we know all about your relationship with Naomi Sandburg and her son.  So cut the kid a break.  Tell us what you know about his mother.  For once in your pathetic life, do the right thing.  You owe it to him."

 

Morgan gave up on the act.  "What’s wrong, Blair?"  He asked, a sneer on his face.  "Mommy done run off and left you again?  Poor baby.  Don’t worry, as soon as I’m out of here, Daddy Drew will come take care of you."  He smirked, his eyes raking up and down Blair’s body.  "Always knew you’d turn out like that.  Still got that wide-eyed innocent look, too.  And that mouth that just begs to be fucked."  Pausing, he licked his lips.  "Just wait until I get out of here, Baby.  I’m going to pay you a little visit and we’ll get reacquainted."

 

Blair paled visibly and tremors wracked his body. For some reason, one he couldn’t even figure out, Morgan still had the ability to affect him. It was like before – he’d resisted Morgan no matter how badly the man had beaten him, but he could never shake the overwhelming sense of fear the man evoked in him. Like his mother, Morgan had some unknown hold over him – one he couldn’t break. Even after all these years – even with all the confidence he’d built up during his time with Jim, helping the detective take down criminals and terrorists – he still couldn’t stand up against Morgan for long. Not even Lash had affected him as badly as this man did.

 

Enraged, Jim shouted, "You son of a bitch!" 

 

Blair flinched at the sound. As he watched, rooted to the spot, Jim lunged for Morgan – only to be brought up short when Elliot grabbed him. 

 

"Let me go!"

 

Elliot spun him around, the two men wrestling briefly, until Jim faced him.  "Go take care of your partner!"  With that, he turned Jim and gave him a shove in Blair’s direction.

 

"This isn’t over," Jim warned Morgan, who merely pursed his lips and blew a kiss in Blair’s direction, causing the young man to cringe.

 

When Jim started for Morgan again, it was Blair softly calling his name that stopped his attack this time.  Giving the criminal a warning look, Jim quickly hustled Blair out of the room.

 

Olivia looked to her partner, who jerked his head towards the doorway.  Understanding the silent message, Olivia went after Jim and Blair, leaving her partner alone with Morgan.

 

As soon as the door was shut, Elliot nonchalantly leaned against the wall.  "So, I guess seeing Sandburg refreshed your memory, huh?"

 

"Screw you!"

 

Before Morgan knew what was happening, Elliot had pushed off of the wall and was leaning over him.  "I don’t think so."  The detective’s voice was low and menacing.  "The only one who’s going to get screwed around here is you.  Especially after I put you in lockup and let everyone know that you like little kids."  Leaning back, the detective smiled, the expression chilling.

 

"You…you can’t do that?"

 

"Can’t I?"

 

"All right, all right." Morgan had been in prison – he knew that even prisoners considered child molesters to be the lowest form of life. He’d seen how inmates dealt out their own brand of justice to people convicted of such crimes. Even now, the memories made him shudder. "I’ll tell you what I know.  Just don’t, okay?"

 

"Then you’d better start talking."

 

***

 

Elliot left the interrogation room and went into the squadroom, looking for his partner or Jim and Blair.  Before he could find them, his captain approached.  "Well?"

 

Distractedly, Elliot answered, "Morgan admitted that he’s seen Ms. Sandburg, that he’s been her supplier. But that’s it. Seems she wanted to hook back up with him but he told her she was too old. He claims that she hasn’t been around for a couple of days. And that before that, the only contact they’ve had is when she’d come to buy from him."

 

"Do you believe him?"

 

Pausing, Elliot considered the question before finally nodding.  "Yeah.  Yeah, I do.  Don’t get me wrong, the guy’s scum. But…gut instinct…he’s telling the truth.  He didn’t have anything to do with Ms. Sandburg’s disappearance."

 

"So we’re back to the mysterious guy in the black car, the one that grabbed this Wright woman too?"

 

"Looks that way."

 

"Okay, well, get back on it."  With that, the captain walked away.

 

"Hey, Munch," Elliot called out, "have you seen my partner?  Or Ellison and Sandburg?"

 

"Last I saw, the kid was racing towards the restroom with Ellison and your partner chasing after him."

 

Elliot nodded his thanks and Munch turned back to his computer screen.

 

***

 

Olivia looked up as she heard someone approached.  "Hey," she greeted her partner.  "What’s up?"

 

"Morgan says he didn’t have anything to do with it," Elliot told her.  "I think he’s telling the truth."  He gestured towards the restroom door.  "What’s going on here?"

 

"Ellison and Sandburg are in there.  I’m just keeping everyone out, giving them a few minutes alone.  Sandburg looked pretty shaken."

 

Elliot joined his partner, leaning against the wall and waiting for the two men to emerge.

 

***

 

Jim held Blair’s hair out of the way as the young man leaned over the toilet, retching.  With his other hand, he rubbed the tense back and shoulders.

 

Finally, Blair sat back and Jim reached up to flush.

 

"C’mon," Jim urged Blair to his feet and guided him over to the sink.  Once there, he started the water and grabbed a paper towel, wetting it.  He waited while Blair rinsed his mouth out and then ran the wet towel over his face.  "How’re you doing, Baby?"

 

"I…I just didn’t think it would hit me so hard," Blair stammered.  "Seeing him, I mean.  I…I thought that was all buried, behind me.  But seeing him…it all came rushing back.  Oh, God," Blair moaned, wavering.

 

Jim stepped close, wrapping an arm around Blair, keeping the younger man on his feet.  "Blair?"  The alarm in his voice was palpable.

 

"I…I’m okay."  Blair’s voice shook.  "I…I just…" Trailing off, he pulled away from Jim and raced back into the stall, falling to his knees before the toilet again.

 

***

 

Elliot and Olivia straightened when the door open and Jim, supporting a shaky, pale Blair, walked out.  "I’m getting him out of here," Jim announced.  "Morgan?"

 

"I’m sorry."  Both men could hear the regret in Elliot’s voice.  "He…he was supplying your mother, Blair, but he says he didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance."

 

"And you believe him?"  Jim challenged.

 

"Yeah, I do.  My gut instinct says this guy is telling the truth.  Believe me, I’d like nothing more than to put this scum away, but…" Trailing off, Elliot shrugged.

 

Jim nodded.  "All right.  But you’re going to keep Morgan in custody?"

 

"We are," Elliot confirmed.  "We can hold him for suspicion of assault on the woman we found with him until she regains consciousness and tells us what happened."

 

"Can you give us a ride?"  Jim asked.  "I don’t want to take him back to the hotel in a cab."

 

"Sure thing."

 

***

 

After dropping Jim and Blair off at the hotel and escorting them up to their room, Elliot and Olivia headed back to the precinct.

 

When they walked into the squadroom, Cragen approached.  "That woman you found with Morgan."

 

The detectives nodded.

 

"Yeah, what about her?"  Olivia asked.

 

"The hospital just called.  She’s awake.  You two get over there and see what you can get out of her."

 

***

 

When the two SVU detectives arrived at the hospital, they found themselves meeting with the same doctor again.

 

"Dr. Weston," Olivia greeted.  "What can you tell us about the woman brought in earlier?  The OD?"

 

The weary doctor sighed.  "Don’t take offense at this, but I’m not exactly happy to see the two of you again considering the circumstances of our last meeting."

 

"Yeah, same here."  Elliot gave the doctor a slight smile.

 

"No ID on your OD victim yet," Weston informed them.  "And she died just before you got here, an overdose of heroin."

 

"What about a rape kit?"  Olivia asked.

 

"There were signs of sexual activity," the doctor replied, "but no bruising or tearing.  We did a kit anyway, though, and I’ll make sure everything gets to you.  Other than that, there’s not too much I can tell you.  She was malnourished and it looks like she suffered from long-term drug abuse.  Also, she seemed to be suffering from a couple of STDs."

 

"All right.  Thanks, doc."  Elliot shook Weston’s hand.

 

Olivia nodded her thanks as well and the two detectives left.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

 As soon as they walked into the hotel room, Blair crawled onto the bed and curled up into a ball, seeming to block Jim, and everything else, out.

 

Not knowing what else to do, Jim lay down behind Blair and wrapped his arms around the younger man, pulling him tight against his chest.

 

When Blair suddenly turned and started kissing him, Jim was surprised and didn’t react at first.  Then, Blair’s hand started fumbling at his belt and he finally came out of the temporary shock. "Blair…Baby…Wait."

 

Eyes sad, Blair pulled back.  With a sob, he curled into a ball again.

 

At first, the words were so faint that even Jim had to strain to hear them.

 

"Knew you wouldn’t want me anymore.  Don’t blame you, though.  It’s my fault.  I’m dirty."

 

"What?"  Jim asked, not believing what he was hearing.  A feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach.  "Blair…talk to me, Baby.  What’s going on here?  Of course, I want you.  I’ll always want you.  I love you.  You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

 

"But I…I…I’m not good enough."

 

"Yes, you are.  God, Blair, if you want to know the truth, you’re too good for me.  I don’t deserve someone as special as you.  Someone as kind and loving as you are.  I’m so…so honored that you’re with me.  That you love me."  Jim gently uncurled Blair so that he could see his partner’s face.  Then, he reached up and softly wiped at the tears streaming down the beloved face – now full of so much pain it caused his heart to ache.

 

"I remember…Morgan…he…he did things…to me."  The words were halting and anguished.

 

"What, Baby?"  Jim asked, keeping his voice low and soothing even though he was enraged on the inside.  He wanted nothing more than to go back down to the station and get revenge against Morgan.  Revenge for the scared kid that his partner was then -- the kid who needed protection from such a monster and received none.  Revenge for the man beside him now -- his partner, full of pain and shame.  "Tell me, Blair.  Please."

 

"He…he touched me.  M…made me touch him.  I can…can…still feel his hands on me," Blair cried.  "I can’t…feel so dirty…"

 

"Blair…" Jim paused, needing to swallow, trying to speak against the lump that formed in his throat.  "Did he…did he rape you?"

 

"no."  The word was whispered, sounding so young and frightened.  "He didn’t…he was working up to that, I think.  But then he got arrested.  He…he touched me there though.  With his fingers.  I…I couldn’t do anything to stop him.  He said he’d hurt my mom if I didn’t do what he said.  He was…he said he was getting me ready.  That he wanted to be the first and then he’d…he’d make more money off of me than he did…did my mom."  No more words came as Blair broke down.

 

Jim just silently held his partner, offering what support and comfort he could.  He continued to hold the younger man even after Blair’s cries tapered off and he was overcome with sleep.

 

***

 

Finally, Blair stirred, moving in Jim’s arms.  Two sleep-filled, red-rimmed eyes blinked open and Blair gave Jim a tentative smile.  "Hi."

 

"Hi, yourself."  Jim kept his voice soft, like Blair’s.  "Feeling any better now?"

 

"A little.  Not much though."

 

"I’m so sorry, Blair."

 

"Sorry about what?"

 

"That I wasn’t there to protect you, to keep you safe from Morgan."

 

Blair smiled and reached up to gently run a finger down the side of Jim’s face.  "My Blessed Protector."  He paused, clearing his throat, tears threatening once again.  "You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Jim.  I survived.  And I found you.  Having you love me, that makes up for everything, makes up for all the bad in my life."

 

"But –"

 

Laying his fingers on Jim’s lips, Blair halted the words.  "Don’t.  Just…just make me forget.  For a little while, just make it all go away.  I want to feel you touching me, not him.  I want to feel hands on me and know that it’s you.  Love me, Jim.  Please, love me."

 

Gently, Jim rolled Blair over onto his back and then leaned over his partner.  He rained soft kisses down on the face below him, kissing away the fresh tears.  Reverently, he began unbuttoning Blair’s shirt, stopping to kiss the revealed flesh.  Once Blair’s chest was bared, he laid his head down, his ear over Blair’s heart, listening to the precious rhythm.

 

Sighing, Blair ran his fingers through Jim’s hair.  When Jim pulled back and reached for his jeans, Blair tensed, remembering other hands reaching for him.  Then, he opened his eyes and looked up to lock gazes with Jim, who was looking down at him with such love that it took his breath away.

 

Instantly, he relaxed.  He was safe.  He was here, with Jim.  He was loved and protected and cherished.  Nothing could hurt him right now.  Nothing existed except for the two of them.  This momentary peace they had created, that Jim had created for him, soothed his soul, cleansed him.

 

He arched up when Jim pulled off his jeans, allowing his partner to fully undress him.  Lying there, bared and vulnerable, he didn’t feel afraid.  All he felt was Jim’s love surrounding him, washing away all the bad memories and leaving nothing but love in their place.

 

As he watched, Jim peeled off his own clothing.  Then, the solid mass moved over him, covering him, protecting him, making him feel wanted and safe.

 

Later, when Jim gently entered him, it felt as if everything shattered into a million pieces.  Only to be put back together, mended, as Jim began to move, easing out of his body and then slowly thrusting forward, moving into him again.  Tears coursed down his cheeks as a sense of completeness, of being whole, overcame him – their love finally starting to banish the demons of his past.

 

***

 

"We got a possible match on your car," Munch called out as Elliot and Olivia walked into the squadroom.  He held up a computer printout.  "Darius Pierson.  Two prior arrests for sexual battery but no convictions."

 

"Address?"  Elliot asked.

 

"You got it."  Munch handed over the printout.  "The captain wants you to wait before you move in.  He’s getting a team ready."

 

Impatiently, Elliot pulled out his gun, checking it.  "How soon?"

 

"Now," their captain announced as he approached.  "We’re all set.  Let’s get moving."

 

***

 

Not wanting to alert Pierson, they moved in quietly.  Elliot and Olivia approached the house, creeping up to the front door with their guns held ready.

 

Elliot reached up to pound at the door.  "Police…open up."

 

When no one answered, they moved aside as a uniformed officer carrying a battering ram stepped up.  He knocked the door inward -- it hung from the hinges.

 

A swarm of officers, including the SVU detectives, moved in, conducting a search of the house.

 

It was Elliot that found Pierson, trying to climb out of a window.  He yanked the man back inside and slapped some cuffs on him before handing him over to a uniform.  Then, hearing Olivia cry out for help, he went in search of his partner.

 

Elliot, Munch, and Donald all reached the room at the same time.  Nausea rose up in the seasoned police officers at the sight that greeted them.

 

Finally, the captain managed to ask, "Is she alive?"

 

"Barely."  Olivia’s voice was tight with barely restrained emotions.  She reached down and pulled the blanket over the bruised, battered, and bloodied unconscious body.  "But she’s not going to last long unless we get her some help."

 

Helplessly, the police officers stood by, providing what comfort they could to Naomi as they waited for the ambulance to arrive.  Just as the sound of sirens could be heard, Naomi’s eyes fluttered open.

 

Olivia leaned down.  "Easy.  You’re safe now.  We’re going to get you some help.  Just hang on."

 

Moving forward, Elliot knelt down on the other side of the bed, hoping to offer some comfort as well.

 

"Blair…" Naomi strained to get the word out.  As she looked up at the figure leaning over her, it wasn’t Olivia’s face that she saw.  It transformed, blurring until it came into focus again, now clear and sharp.  She saw her son’s loving face leaning over her, smiling down.

 

Straining, Olivia and Elliot just barely heard the whispered name.  "He’s here, in New York," Olivia said, tears in her voice.  "He’s been so worried about you.  You’ll see him soon."

 

"Blair…I knew I’d see you one more time.  Knew that you’d come to me.  You always did.  Protected me, kept me safe.  Oh, I’m sorry, Sweetie.  So very sorry.  Please forgive me. Just…not strong enough.  Never strong enough."  She took a deep, shuddering breath.  "My sweet baby boy.  Love you so much."  Then her eyes slipped closed.  She’d held on long enough to deliver the message to her son.  Now, it was time to let go.  To finally escape from the pain once and for all.  Her eyes dulled as the light faded out of them.

 

The partners looked up, their eyes locking.  Silent misery and a sense of failure passed between them.

 

"She’s…she’s gone," Olivia announced, her voice choked.

 

***

 

The ringing of the phone woke Jim and he fumbled to answer it, not wanting Blair to wake up as well.  "Ellison?"  He kept his voice low but still heard Blair’s voice, full of sleep, calling out his name.

 

"It’s okay, Baby, I’ve got it."  Reaching back a hand, he patted Blair’s stomach.  "This is Ellison," he repeated.  For several long moments, he listened in silence.  Then, his eyes closed as an expression of pain crossed over his face.  "Yeah, I understand.  We’ll be right there."  He hung up the phone and rolled over to face his partner.

 

The moment he saw the look on Jim’s face, fear gripped Blair’s heart.  "Just tell me she’s alive."

 

"Blair…" It was the expression of sorrow and sympathy mixed with concern that told Blair what Jim couldn’t say with words.

 

"Oh, God, no!"

 

At the anguished cry, Jim moved to embrace Blair.  When the first gut wrenching sobs sounded, he tightened his hold even as the first tears started to run down his face as well.

 

***

 

Elliot paused outside the door.  Two days had passed since they’d found Naomi.  Pierson had taken a plea, accepting a life sentence in exchange for not facing the death penalty.  Morgan was back in prison as well.  Jim had paid the ex-con a brief visit, actually allowing Elliot to watch over Blair as the younger man had slept, grief having exhausted him. The two detectives had come to a truce of sorts after having a lengthy talk. After the short discussion with Jim, Morgan had taken a plea as well, having admitted to administering the fatal dose of drugs that killed the still unidentified young woman he had picked up.  All in all, it’d been a trying couple of days.

 

Taking a moment to get himself together, Elliot knocked.  Jim, eyes red, opened the door and wordlessly stepped aside to let the SVU detective enter the motel room. 

 

"Blair," Elliot said softly when he saw the younger man sitting on the bed.  He received a nod in reply.  Stepping further into the room, he spotted a chair next to the bed and sat down.

 

"Tell me," Blair demanded after Jim had sat down beside him.

 

This was the first time the young man had asked for any details and Elliot hesitated, looking to Jim and receiving a nod before answering.  "When we got to Pierson’s place, we didn’t get any kind of response when we knocked.  We beat down the door and went inside.  We…we found Pierson trying to crawl out of a window.  I pulled him back in while Olivia continued to sweep the place."  Elliot paused and looked over at Jim.  "I…I heard her call out.  Olivia was in the bedroom.  Ms. San…Naomi was lying on the bed.  We called for an ambulance but…I’m sorry, Blair, there was nothing we could do."

 

"H…how?"

 

"There was just …too much…damage.  I’m so sorry, Blair."  There was a slight tremor to Elliot’s voice, his emotions over this case close to the surface.  "She spoke to us at the end, Blair.  She…she said that she loved you.  She wanted you to know that."  When Blair didn’t say anything, Elliot stood.  "I am sorry, Blair.  You don’t know how much I wish things had turned out differently.  I’m so sorry for your loss.  Sorry that we didn’t get to her in time."  Shrugging helplessly at Jim when Blair still didn’t respond, Elliot said, "I guess I should be going now."

 

He had his hand on the doorknob when Blair called out, "Thank you for finding her, Elliot.  At least this way, I know.  I…I just can’t believe that she’s gone, that I’m never going to see her again.  My mom is gone.  God, I love her so much.  She really was a great person, you know."

 

"Yeah."  Elliot went back to the chair and sat down.  "And I’d love for you to tell me about her, about the good times the two of you had together."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah."  Elliot saw the grateful look Jim gave him and smiled softly.  "Tell me about your mom, Blair."

 

"Well, this one time…"

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

The day was overcast and a small group of mourners were gathered around the casket, listening to the minister’s words.

 

There was a momentary pause in the eulogy when two newcomers walked up.

 

Elliot and Olivia stood off to the side, not wanted to intrude any further.

 

After the service, Jim and Blair walked up to them.

 

"Thanks for coming," Blair said, his eyes red and teary.

 

"We wanted to be here," Elliot replied, moving forward to give the younger man a brief hug.

 

When her partner stepped back, Olivia copied the gesture, holding on for a little bit longer.

 

"Why don’t you follow us back to the loft," Jim suggested.  "We’re having a few people over."

 

"All right," Elliot accepted for the both of them.

 

***

 

Back at the loft, people were talking quietly, eating and drinking.

 

Silence fell when Blair stepped forward, attracting everyone’s attention. 

 

"I want to thank you all for coming." His voice was strong, though everyone could see the tears in his eyes. "It really means a lot to me.  I…I’m sure Naomi would appreciate it as well.  I wasn’t for sure what to say.  Or if I could even say anything at all.  But I just…I think I’d like…that I need to share some memories of my mom. I know that a lot of you didn’t know her all that well, so I’d like to tell you all a little bit about the kind of person she was…"

 

As he listened to Blair talk, Jim walked over to his side and put his arm around the younger man’s shoulders. 

 

Blair paused, giving him a small smile before continuing.

 

Jim knew Blair needed this.  Needed to remember the good times, needed to remember Naomi as the mother that loved him.  Remember her as the free-spirited woman who meditated and talked about auras and cooked him tongue even though she was a vegetarian, just because she knew he liked it.  He knew it wouldn’t erase all the bad times and all the painful memories – but he knew that Blair needed this…this cleansing.

 

They were both in counseling – Blair individually and then the two of them together. It was slow going, but it was helping – helping both of them, especially Blair, to heal. He was realistic though. He knew that the ghost of Drew Morgan would linger for a long time to come. And that it’d be a long time, if ever, before Blair got over his mother’s death, and the circumstances surrounding it.

 

But he would be there every step of the way, loving and supporting Blair through it all.

 

The End