A/N: Wow...really long time, I know. Sorry. Senior year hits you and everything just sort of comes at once. I've not even been able to spend more than five minutes on my computer until now! I'll work on my other stories as much as I can and hope to update those, too.

This chapter is supposed to just tie-up some loose ends -- hopefully it does that. Please leave your review and let me know what you think!!!

For those of you who have stuck with this story from beginning to end -- Thank you! I love you!

Chapter 17

Elliot pushed open the door and gestured to Munch and Fin. The two took the hint and said their temporary good-byes. They stepped past him into the hallway where Peterson stood. When Elliot motioned to her, she poked her head into the room.

Olivia was propped up against her pillows. When she saw Peterson, she smiled and waved her in. Elliot closed the door behind her and went to join his colleagues in the waiting lounge.

Lanie Peterson stood rigid with nerves. "Detective Stabler said you wanted to see me?"

Olivia pointed to the chair next to her bed. "That's right. I hear you're the one who cracked my secret code."

The FBI agent sat down. "Uh, yeah -- well I'm sure they would have gotten it soon."

"Eventually Munch would have, maybe," Olivia said, slightly shaking her head. "But Elliot? He can be a bit dense sometimes. Riddles aren't his strong suit -- he uses his head more for breaking down doors."

"And faces," Peterson mentioned softly, unconsciously touching her fat lip.

Liv started to laugh, but had to stop on account of the pain. "Sorry. I must look like such a wreck. I'm normally more fun."

Peterson smiled, grimacing herself when her stitches pulled. "Same here. We must look like quite a pair, huh? But I'd hate to see what I'd look like if I'd been in your place. I don't think I would have made it. You're one tough chick."

Olivia looked down embarrassedly at her hands as she fiddled with the blanket. "Yeah, I don't know how I did it either. It's amazing what you do when you have to survive."

"Well, the important thing is you did survive. And because of you, so did a young girl." She paused briefly. "And those two creeps are going to go away for a very long time."

"Yeah..." Olivia trailed off, not even bothering to meet Peterson's eyes.

Peterson sighed, knowing full well what was bothering her. Without a thought or hesitation, she reached out and grabbed her hand. "Tannard was definitely guilty. DNA and piles of other evidence proved it."

Liv brought her gaze up. "Are you sure?"

Peterson nodded. "Positive. I sent my men digging through the files on his case and you did everything by the book. Everything was solid. There is absolutely no question of whether he did it or not. So, don't lose any sleep over the bastard, 'kay? He doesn't deserve it."

Olivia gave her a weak smile. Too late for that.

Suddenly she remembered how she ended up in the situation in the first place. "The woman in the alley -- Tracey Rudnick?"

"She's fine."

Liv's eyes brightened a bit. "Good. Elliot said so already, but I wanted to make sure he wasn't sugar-coating anything."

"Ah," Peterson smirked. "And you figured I'd cut the crap, right?"

"Yeah, sort of." Olivia looked down at the blanket again. "So...he tortured me because he felt I was to blame for Tannard's death?"

The smirk left Peterson's face, and her head dropped as if to signal the affirmative.

"And he used Tracey Rudnick because her brother actually killed Tannard?"

Peterson repeated her previous motion. She then made as if to say something, but stopped.

Liv narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Well, it's nothing really. Just an opinion that doesn't need sharing."

Olivia shook her head. "No, I want to know what you're thinking."

Peterson took a deep breath. "Okay. It's just something I've been thinking about. There was absolutely no way Mortanon could have known Jimmy Rudnick was dead -- they hadn't even released it officially when we went digging. So he must have only used Tracey to hurt her brother as much as possible, but if ---"

"If he had known he was already dead, he would have killed her. Is that what you're getting at?"

Peterson nodded slowly.

"Oh." Olivia contemplated this for a moment, before returning to her previous train of thought. "What about Emmy?"

"Huh?"

"Why her? What was she to him? It's not like she could have deserved any of this!" Olivia weakly pounded a fist against the mattress, ignoring the resulting shock waves of pain rippling through her body.

The FBI agent shook her head. "From what we got out of the accomplice, she didn't. Just a victim of opportunity -- simply a means of controling you."

As soon as she said it, Peterson regretted it. "I..I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--"

"No. I needed you to," Olivia whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "How is she?"

"Ask her yourself."

As if on cue there was a soft tap on the door. Bemused, Olivia looked first towards the noise and then back at her new friend. Peterson rose from her chair as she called out, "Come in."

The door opened a crack and Emmy's head appeared in the space. The rest of her slid shyly into the room a few seconds later. Peterson crossed the room towards the girl, and nodded her farewells to Olivia.

"Wait!"

The woman stopped, and turned back towards her. "Yeah?"

"You never told me your first name."

She smiled oddly, "Oh. Uh..it's Lanie."

At Olivia's slightly curious glance, she explained further. "Well, really it's Melanie, but the last person to call me that got his face shoved into a desk, if you catch my drift."

Liv's face cracked into a broad grin. "In that case, thank you, Lanie."

Peterson smiled again and disappeared into the hallway. Olivia turned her attention over to Emmy, who stood quietly in the corner of the room.

"Hey there! How are you feeling?"

The girl returned Olivia's smile. "Peachy."

x x x x x x x x x x x

Fluffy, white snowflakes piled on the windowsill. The rays of the early morning sun spilled into the apartment, dancing as they reflected off of the snow.

The telephone rang, breaking the odd silence in the room.

"Hello?" Olivia's voice answered slightly out-of-breath after a mad dash from the bed room to the receiver.

"Hi!"

"Hey, Emmy. What's up?"

"Not much. Just wanted to wish you luck on your first day."

Olivia smiled. "Oh, well thank you!"

"You're welcome. Oop. Gotta go -- Linda's honking the horn. She thinks we'll be late."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye!"

There was a click as the girl on the other end hung up. Laughing softly to herself, Olivia did the same. She couldn't be anything but happy as she thought about Emmy these days. She loved her like a daughter and was ecstatic to hear things were going well in Emmy's life.

She had been placed with a new foster mother, Linda Bancroff. How that came to be was something that could best be described as fate. Olivia remembered the phone call she'd received just over two weeks ago -- Lanie had called to suggest Olivia meet with her friend Linda before bringing up the possibility to Emmy. Olivia gave her approval wholeheartedly after Linda had passed her "exam" with flying colors.

Sighing, Olivia slowly plodded barefoot back to her room to finish dressing. As she passed the foot of her bed, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. She stopped, turning towards it, and proceeded to study herself in it. This was actually the first time since the abduction she could bear to look at herself.

Her left arm was still supported in a sling and a few more scars had been added to her repertoire. Barring those, she actually looked like her old self once again. Her bruises had yellowed and begun to fade; the shadows of guilt and sadness had all but vanished from her eyes.

She was sleeping again -- the nightmares had ceased. With the support of her friends and colleagues, especially her partner, Olivia had put those horrible days behind her, but she couldn't deny they had helped to reshape her life. She couldn't help but feel confident in herself. She was a survivor.

Twenty minutes later, Olivia strolled back through her apartment in response to a knock on her door.

She opened it to find Elliot standing on her doorstep.

He smiled at her. "Ready?"

"Damn straight." Olivia reached for her coat and shrugged it on. After three weeks of paid leave, she was more than ready to rejoin the working world, even if it did mean desk duty.

Elliot held out his arm.

Olivia looked blankly at him. "You're kidding, right? Elliot, my arm's broken -- not my dignity."

Elliot laughed as he dropped his arm to his side and pulled her door shut behind her.

A devilish grin crossed her face, and her eyes twinkled. "You ever do that again, and I'll kill ya -- two arms or not."

Elliot's smile grew even wider. "You're back."

Olivia raised an eyebrow and then followed him down the stairs and across the lobby to the outside doors. She was back and ready to do what she did best -- survive.