DISCLAIMER: SVU and its' characters do not belong to me, I make no monies from them. No infringement is intended of any kind.

A/N- Thank you to everyone still reading, and also thanks for the reviews/ encouragement. Before reading this next chapter, please take note that whatever physical place I take these characters to, I mean no ill feelings towards anyone who is native, has lived there, or is living there, or has a great aunt whose stepson's niece's uncle likes the place...etc... In other words, if you are partial to Iceland, I only use the ill remarks in this chapter for humor. If you do not find them funny, and take them to heart, I apologize. Nothing was meant to harm anyone.

Ch. 14- White Walls

So maybe she deserved something of this caliber. Before boarding, she had left everything up to Elliot. Or maybe he just took over. Either way, she had been appreciative. Her thought processes weren't working quite their best. During the flight, she even voided the question of 'where we going?'. Come to think of it, she must have been dazed or asleep when any announcements were made of arrival or landing. It would have been too late by then anyway.

Men had never placed a high ranking in her life. Elliot was one who managed to make the list of four or five she considered worthy to associate with. Now she wondered why. All men should be caged, used for reproductive purposes only.

At least that was all she could think of, now that she knew where she was. Iceland. Fucking Iceland.

"I just picked a destination, Liv. It's not like we're going to be living here." Weren't they? Now that they were homeless, they pretty much had to live somewhere, so why not on a frozen island at the top of the world?

There was snow on the ground. Olivia had packed simply, not imagining that Elliot would want to immerse himself in an igloo.

"Here," he motioned for her to slip on one of his jackets he managed to throw in by accident only. "I was so damn worried about getting us out of there, I wasn't thinking about where to go or what to pack."

"We'll just freeze to death instead." Olivia really gave him that piece of her mind that said, 'I owe you, and I'm taking it out any damn way I please.'

"Liv, we're safe. That's all that matters. I know you're cold and still tired, and you've got to be hungry…" He was reaching for her, knowing she was still so very fragile. The concern in his voice would do nothing but melt her resolve. "Look, come on. I'll find us a room and we can get rested up.

She didn't admit he was right, only allowed herself to be led out into the cold. It would be nice to be able to lie flat on a soft bed all warm and cozy. Eating would be a different story, for her stomach was still a large knot. If she knew Elliot, and she did, he would make her eat something. Whatever they did, they needed time to get themselves together again. Time to slow down and take inventory of their worldly possessions, and craft some ideas as to what to do next.

That seemed like half a day ago, or maybe it had been. The shock of their arrival had worn off somewhat, but now she tried to concentrate back to when she was furious at Elliot, the stupid son-of-a-bitch who had taken her to fucking Iceland. It was much better than concentrating on the old foreign doctor (or so he says) who was poking and prodding his fingers in her pussy.

Sometime it has to get better.

One hour later…

It must have been the most realistic dream Olivia had ever had. She was groggy, but she was freezing. Especially between her legs, where it felt like someone had piled ice cubes on her bare intimate flesh. When she had dreamt of Iceland, she had assumed her whole body would turn to ice, not just that part.

"Elliot!" Her voice echoed around the room she found herself in. He was nowhere to be seen. 'Stupid son-of-a bitch gone sight-seeing probably,' she thought to herself.

She hated white rooms. Plain, glossy white made her feel even colder. Sterile, almost. If not for the smell, she would have assumed she were in a hospital somewhere. Then the son-of-a-bitch would have been a dead son-of-a-bitch.

She yawned like she hadn't slept in months, and let herself relax as her body came fully awake. She was nude. Great At least she didn't feel any clothing at all on. Lifting the covers to confirm, Olivia let out a string of obscenities when she discovered the ice pack stuffed between her legs.

She pulled it out, threw it against the closed, wooden, white door.

Why couldn't anyone ever leave a cold Coke or something…anything besides water. Ice water. It was always beside the bed. Fuck the ice water.

It landed beside the ice pack, to the left of her bed, on the floor beside the white door.

Sinking back into her bed, she pulled up the blanket, tucking herself in. Her fist collided with the mattress, and as it absorbed the blow, she finally let the tears freely fall.

So many questions still swirled inside her head, and no one who could ever answer them for her. It was just her lot in life. She was now the abused, the victim, the heartbroken weakling she had fought most of her life to not be. She had failed. Now homeless, completely cut off from her former life, and in fucking Iceland, in a fucking all white room. Just left to freeze to death, buried in a block of ice. To top it all off, she still ached. Her body was still hurting, reminding her of the torment she had fully accepted from the one and only Ed Tucker; bastard extraordinaire.

She cried for the blows that landed hard and swift, for the sharp pain that stung as his dick penetrated her ass again and again, for his degrading words, and for his damn knife.

She cried for her own stupidity, for her self-loathing and doubt.

She cried for all the wrong decisions she ever made, for the bad ideas and crazy stunts she ever pulled.

She cried for hurting her friends, her family, her coworkers, herself.

She cried for hurting Elliot. For putting him in this position with her; for taking him away from his children, his family, his home. She's given him nothing but grief, and in return for what? For him to simply state that he loves her?

Maybe he is a stupid son-of-a-bitch.

"You're awake."

Lost in her soul-searching, she had not heard him gently knock before cracking open the door to check on her.

"Ah, yea." Quickly drying the remnants of her tears, Olivia pulled herself up to sitting, feeling somewhat better than when she had awoke a little while before.

"I know this isn't the best room, but it's cheap and clean." Elliot slipped inside at the lack of protest from her. "I had a doctor look at you." He pointed at her body, most of it hidden by the covers. "Hope you don't mind, but since you were so tired and groggy anyway…"

"I don't remember much. I mean I think I do, but not really." She really couldn't explain it.

"He gave you something to help you rest. He, ah, he had to give you a few stitches, Liv." This is what she had been waiting to here, he knew that, from the moment he stuck his head in the door. He could see it in her eyes. "I'm not sure how many that is, but he said they would dissolve in about ten days, so you don't have to worry about them. He also left you some antibiotics and some pain medication, if you want it."

All she could do was nod. Somehow she had already known. From the moment she had awoke, it was just a feeling, a different feeling she had, up inside her. One that told her she was going to be okay now.

"He looked you over, Liv. I asked him to." He waited for her to yell. The Benson he knew would feel violated. As the seconds ticked on, and silence reigned, Elliot knew that Olivia had lost much more than he realized.

Playing with her hands, her mind wandered at what was going through his. She couldn't look at him now, too embarrassed at herself for being like this.

"He says you'll heal fine. With time." What exactly that meant was something neither could figure out.

"Sorry for the mess"

"Just water. If it makes you feel better, I threw a bottle of scotch while you were sleeping." At this she laughed, her face lightening from the darker place she had been. It did his heart good to see this, and so it brought a smile to his face also.

"So…what do we do now?" Finally calming, she began rationalizing.

"Well, I've been thinking about that too. We're safe, in no hurry, no job, no appointments, no nothing. So why do we have to do anything?" He sat on the bed beside her, gently taking her hand in his. "You need to heal. So now is as good a time as any."

"I just stay here, like, with nothing to do?" That was foreign to her. Might as well dig her a hole and shove her in it now.

"Yes. Exactly."

"Then what?"

"Then…well, what do you think about a vacation?"

"Elliot,"

"Seriously, what do you say we just take one day at a time? See what comes along?"

"Yea. Okay." She had to admit it felt good, not having any pressure on herself, or either of them. They had been a team so long that if one was pressurized, the other felt the strain as well. "A little time to relax, think things through, might due us some good.' She squeezed his hand, silently telling him she was on the same page with him, and slowly coming back to herself, not to worry. "Maybe get the fuck out of Iceland." The smile was back, but the look in her eyes told Elliot to refrain from any kind of comeback at all.

16 Precinct

Yawning for what must have been the fourth time in an hour, Captain Donald Cragen covered his mouth with one hand, squinting his eyes as his mouth stretched and his eyes tightly closed long enough to take a deep breath. He was still trying to make sense of the information he had gotten from Detective Tutuola concerning the two best detectives he had ever commanded. What had transpired to cause such an outrageous outcome he still could not fully understand. He had heard two versions, Fin's and IAB's. Of course, only Fin's was believable in his mind, but still it seemed far-fetched.

After knowing them for years…you think you know someone, and then something like this happens and you can't make heads or tails of anything anymore. At least that's all he could think of to tell Fin and John, as they slumped in the two office chairs in front of his desk for most of the day.

"I knew she wasn't herself." John Munch had kept repeating to himself, hoping that somehow it would be a chastisement for not doing something to help her before Pandora's Box had been opened.

"We all knew. Don't beat yourself up." Fin had done enough of beating his own self up since his conversations with Elliot.

"We've got to find out what really went on, how Elliot got involved. I've got a close personal friend at IAB. I'm going to talk to him, see if I can find out anything. John I want you to take Ed Tucker's computer down to TARU, have them tear that damn thing apart…see if they can tell you anything at all. Fin, I want you to get to work locating them. Do what you have to do to find them." The elderly man watched as his detectives nodded, rising quickly and moving toward the door. This was the fastest they had moved in a while. Like him, both always thought it better to try and do something instead of sitting still and watching events happen around them. "And Fin," he added before the man could finish the few steps out into the bullpen, "be careful, watch your back. I wouldn't be surprised if eyes were on us, especially after what you pulled."

"I know how to disappear, no worries," Fin answered to ease his Captain's mind. "We'll fix this."

Meanwhile…

It had been good to see her smile, even if for just a few seconds at a time. She was safe now, sleeping in the next room, and Elliot was more relaxed in knowing she would be fine physically.

When he had explained the situation to the doctor, something had told him to be prepared for rather ugly results of her physical. Maybe it was his upbringing, maybe it was in his nature, or maybe it was his job that always gave him a head's up to look forward to the worst-case scenario. So when he had been reassured that she would heal physically, and nothing serious had been found besides for the vaginal lacerations, Elliot had felt the heavy burden lift from his soul. He had not known whether to laugh or cry.

That had been the good news.

The bad news Elliot had already known. Her mental state was far from home, in more ways than one. He had been told to seek a professional to help her, but how could he, here, so far from home, and no plans in sight of staying in one place for too long? Especially here, in Iceland. It was imperative to find them a temporary home, one where Olivia would be comfortable enough to live and hopefully accept some professional help for the abuse Tucker had put her through.

Two hours later…

She knew what bothered her so much now. Olivia had awoken to those same white walls, gleaming in the seemingly ordinary dull light of what was suppose to be her temporary room. Suppose to be, or not, it would never be her room, not with the white glaring at her like a sharp-edged sword.

It occurred to her suddenly that she had saw that same glare before, many times. Tucker had his bedroom painted in the same sharp, glossy white that was now penetrating her eyes again, on the other side of the world. Was she to never escape? He was dead, Olivia realized that. However her situation was sitting on her chest, restricting her breathing, heavy like an elephant.

Panic filled her entire body to the point where she no longer felt any pain at all.

There was no clock in the room, nor could she find her watch. Her things were jumbled in her case just as Elliot and herself had stuffed them before leaving NYC. Only a few things had been removed, and Olivia had taken that to heart as Elliot's way of telling her Iceland was only a short stop.

It wasn't short enough for her.

Thankful he had finally drifted off to sleep, Olivia thought of leaving him a note, but what would she say? 'Gee thanks for getting involved and leaving your family and making me feel guilty and for the nice trip to Iceland, and for arranging the visit from the old doctor who she was sure molested her as well." That would be the short version of what could very easily become an eternal novel of gratitude and fuck-off's all tucked into one leather binder.

Making sure she left him with plenty of cash, and how to get more when needed, Olivia lifted her ID, passport, and medication along with a few other essentials out of his carry-on beside the sofa and the few things lying on the table beside his wallet.

It's not what she wanted to do. It was what she had planned to do all along. Damn him for intruding, for getting himself all wrapped up in what was suppose to be only her own trouble. He had not let up, he had not backed off, he had not given up and left her alone. He had jumped in with both feet first, not thinking clearly at all. He had destroyed his own family, his own job, his own future.

He had loved her.

Yes, damn him for getting involved with herself. He should have known better, especially since he supposedly knew how much of a wreck she already was.

As she took one last look behind her, she tightened her hold on her bags, fighting the urge to cry again. She had to separate herself from him, give him some sort of chance for a little normalcy in his life. He could rebuild. Stabler was strong like that. Committing to another life would be a challenge, but he was up for it.

Damn those white walls for reminding her of how screwed up she really was.

None of it was fair to Elliot. Olivia knew he couldn't go back now. There was nothing she could do to reverse that issue. However she could make certain he would not be plagued with having to take care of her for the rest of her life. No one could fix her now. She was sure it was a matter of time before her meltdown became complete, and the Olivia Benson she had been her whole life would no longer exist in the realm of constant souls and the daily humanity that walked the Earth. No one would be able to reach her. Not even Elliot.

The door made a humble click as the knob locked in place. Maybe she should have thought of freedom out here, the vastness of the deep hallway leading into forever ahead of her. Yet her thoughts were as blank as those white walls, filling her brain with a no-nonsense plan of the two minutes it took to remove herself from the building she had been paying to use as shelter.