Work Text:
It takes less than fifteen minutes for the entire operation to devolve from an organized joint task initiative into sheer chaos.
‘Reyes, do you have eyes on either of the Marks brothers?’ Ayanna calls into her earpiece, frantically scanning the crowds. There’s a sea of humanity in front of her - hundreds of families, business people, couples and lone travelers, almost shoulder-to-shoulder in the airport terminal, rushing to catch flights without the slightest awareness that the person behind them in the queue may be a deadly criminal.
‘Negative,’ Reyes’ voice responds. ‘Whelan and Tutuola found the girls though…We count twenty, plus five trafficker guards.’
It provides a modicum of comfort, knowing that the girls who would have otherwise been lost into the horrific world of sex trafficking will hopefully be sleeping somewhere safe tonight. But the two men actually responsible for trading the women, as well as drugs, weaponry and whatever other goods would make them money, are still hiding amongst the crowd. Bell growls, frustration filling her entire body, the onset of a migraine creeping into her mind as she continues to sweep the faces of everyone around her.
‘I think I see Brian Marks heading towards the Departures Lounge,’ Jet’s voice cuts through, ever dependable when it comes to surveillance. ‘To your left.’
Ayanna begins to run in that direction, although she still can’t identify either of their suspects.
‘El and I have him in sight,’ Olivia speaks up. Ayanna can hear her yelling, both via the earpiece and just by proximity, as she spots the Departures Lounge sign up ahead. Her legs are tired of dashing around the terminal after their other targets, but she injects extra speed into her feet to push herself forwards.
‘Reyes, get your ass over here,’ she instructs breathlessly, only slowing down when she nears the scene and the surrounding mayhem. ‘Leave Whelan and SVU to look after the others.’
‘Get back!’ Elliot is shouting out, as people around them start to scream and scatter, one broad man hitting against Ayanna’s shoulder as he dashes by.
‘I said drop your weapon,’ Olivia repeats, her gun trained on Brian Marks without wavering as he stands before her, his feet planted firmly, his own gun digging into the temple of a young boy. Ayanna notices the key issue immediately - can see the civilians gawking and standing far too close to Olivia’s line of fire for comfort, can see Elliot trying desperately to clear the way so she can have a clean shot.
‘Sergeant,’ Jet interjects.
‘One second,’ Ayanna hisses, stepping slowly off to the side, trying to see if she can get around the back of their suspect without him noticing. The small boy trapped by Marks’ arms is starting to whimper slightly, his big blue eyes staring out in shock under his fringe of blonde hair.
‘Sergeant, the other Marks brother is-’ Jet tries to say, but there’s a flurry of activity as a man bursts out of the crowd almost directly onto the captain, his arm held aloft as something metal and sharp glints in the light.
‘OLIVIA,’ Elliot screams as she staggers back, and then he’s sprinting forwards, throwing himself onto the second attacker with more fury than Ayanna’s ever seen from her detective, one punch taking the man to the ground.
Brian Marks makes the fatal mistake of lowering his gun slightly, distracted by what is happening to his brother, and Ayanna seizes the opportunity to step up behind him, pressing the barrel of her gun against the back of his head.
‘Release the boy, now,’ she says, tone infused with deadly intent, and she watches with satisfaction as his body language deflates, his arms slowly lowering until the boy scrambles forwards, straight to the embrace of his tearful mother.
Reyes skids to a halt, his eyes flicking back and forth between Ayanna, now holding one of the brothers, and Elliot, who has already abandoned their other suspect.
‘Cuff him,’ Ayanna instructs Reyes, handing her own charge over to her detective, and then striding forwards to see why Elliot has taken his eyes off the other man, even if he’s lying unmoving on the ground.
‘It’s OK,’ Olivia is saying, her voice wavering slightly. ‘I’m OK…I’m OK.’
She’s clutching the side of her neck with her hand, blood seeping through her fingers, yet it’s Elliot who drops to his knees, his head hanging forwards as his chest begins to heave. He’s spiraling into a panic attack, Ayanna understands the signs, but she isn’t sure how to stop it.
‘We need a bus here now,’ she barks into her earpiece, eyeing Olivia’s pale face in trepidation. If she starts to be in further medical distress, Ayanna isn’t sure what it’s going to do to Elliot at the same time.
But perhaps she needn’t have worried, because Olivia kneels down in front of Elliot, ignoring the world around her - the eagerly watching crowd; the approaching team of officers, led by a frantic-looking Sergeant Tutuloa; Ayanna herself. Instead, she rests her forehead against Elliot’s, placing her free hand against his chest, until they’re breathing in sync.
As Ayanna crouches down next to them to check over Liam Marks’ prone form, her ears can’t help but pick up some of their whispered reassurances.
‘It’s not Gitano,’ Olivia says quietly. ‘It’s not. The boy is fine. I’m fine.’
Elliot reaches up, his large palm covering her own until they are pressing against her neck together. Ayanna blinks, looks away, uncomfortable at encroaching on such a private moment. She knows Elliot would be upset at Olivia getting hurt in any manner, but she can’t help but wonder who or what Gitano is, and why it’s caused Elliot to lose control quite as much as he had done. If there’s a difficult trigger point that may cause him to behave like this again, then surely she should know as his commanding officer - if only to help.
‘Olivia,’ Fin says, interrupting Ayanna’s thoughts and the scene beside her. ‘Paramedics are on their way.’
Unlike Ayanna, he clearly doesn’t care about disturbing them, too focused on making sure Olivia is alright, handing over his jacket as a way to staunch the blood. Elliot takes it from him, folding it with shaking hands and then pressing it against her neck once more.
‘I’m fine,’ Olivia repeats. For all their sakes, Ayanna hopes she’s telling the truth.
They take all the suspects back to the 16th precinct, where there are more interrogation rooms and holding pens than at OCCB as they prepare to work their way through questioning their five traffickers and two organized crime bosses. The younger detectives from SVU have gone directly to the hospital to take statements from each of the girls, and Ayanna sends Whelan with them as an extra resource to help.
Olivia had refused to go to the hospital herself, content to be patched up at the scene by a concerned paramedic, before jumping right back into the work, and Ayanna hasn’t managed to pry Elliot away from her side since, including when he insisted on driving in the same vehicle as her all the way back to the precinct rather than take his own.
‘Anyone want to order lunch?’ Detective Bruno announces as soon as they all gather tiredly into the Manhattan SVU office. ‘I’m pretty sure all those assholes can wait for twenty minutes.’
Ayanna can see Jet and Reyes nodding vigorously, and it seems that everyone is in agreement.
‘Fin knows my usual,’ Olivia says. ‘For…anything. Get a group order, let’s take a break, and reconvene after eating for the first rounds of interrogation.’
She sweeps her eyes over the team as a way to close her statement, still a commanding figure even when splattered with her own blood. And then she spins around, heading off down a side corridor, with Elliot trailing after her.
Ayanna waits briefly before following, just in time to witness Elliot get halted at the door to the women’s bathroom.
‘El, you can’t follow me in here,’ Olivia says, her expression amused. ‘I’m just going to clean myself up. How about you go fetch me my clean shirt? It’s hanging in my office.’
Elliot grumbles, but finally nods in agreement, passing Ayanna in the hallway with barely a glance.
‘Are you here to check on me too?’ Olivia says, her eyes slightly narrowed as they stand across from each other. Ayanna is too smart to say yes however; despite not knowing the captain as well as she would like, one thing she does know is that Olivia does not like to be fussed over.
‘Just wanted to freshen myself up,’ she says, flashing a casual smile. She isn’t sure she’s sold her excuse, but Olivia disappears into the bathroom without another word, pushing the door open wide enough to be an indication that she’s allowing Ayanna to follow her.
When she enters, Olivia is already at the sink, trying to use the paper towels to wipe some of the blood off her neck and chest with a grimace, avoiding the bright white bandage covering one side. There’s still a red stain across her hands and under her fingernails, and away from the team, away from the pressure of acting like The Captain, she just looks tired and in pain.
Ayanna comes to stand beside her, washing her hands as a way to stall for time, attempting to come up with the right words. Olivia is a no-nonsense type of person, one who doesn’t appreciate bullshit, so eventually she decides simply to be direct.
‘You want help with that?’ she asks, spinning around and resting her back against the sinks, arms crossed. Olivia shoots her a sideways glance, but makes a small noise of refusal.
‘M fine,’ she mutters. ‘Just need to get this blood off.’
Ayanna is standing on the opposite side to her wound, and it’s only in this harsh bathroom lighting, only because she is staring closely at the other woman, trying to figure out if she really is alright, that she spies a faint silvery line marring the other side of her neck also.
‘Is that…?’ she blurts out unthinkingly, one hand raising to gesture at the scar before she cuts herself off abruptly.
Olivia sighs.
‘There was a case we were working on…must be sixteen, seventeen years ago now. A man called Gitano. He’d kidnapped a couple of children, and we had a hostage situation go wrong. A young boy was killed, and I received this.’
One of her blood-stained fingers comes up to tap against her scar, Olivia’s expression in the mirror twisting into a complicated expression that Ayanna can’t begin to unpack.
‘Is that what set Stabler off today?’ she asks, although it seems she already has her answer by hearing the name Gitano. Olivia’s dark eyes meet hers.
‘You’ll have to ask him that,’ is all she says, her loyalty to her ex-partner stronger than any bonding moment between two team leaders.
A knock on the door interrupts their conversation, although it opens before either one of them can say anything.
‘Your shirt,’ Elliot says, sticking his arm into the room first, clutching a white shirt. He peers in, checking out the empty stalls, and as soon as he realizes it’s only the two of them in there, he joins them, not caring about appearances.
‘I’m fine,’ Olivia grumbles, as he slings the clean shirt over his shoulder, and immediately begins gathering up more paper towels to dampen.
‘I know,’ he says, in a conciliatory tone. It doesn’t stop him from reaching up and gently tilting her chin to the side, before beginning to wipe away some of the remaining blood. ‘Humor me, please.’
If it had been anyone else asking, Olivia would have said no, Ayanna is sure. But for once, either for her own sake or for his, she quietens, allowing him to continue cleaning her skin while her shoulders slowly release their tension.
Neither of them notices as Ayanna walks quietly past them, exiting the bathroom without another word.
‘Food’s on its way,’ Jet says, as soon as she rejoins the rest of the group. ‘Where’s Elliot?’
Fin’s watching her closely, and he shakes his head slightly at her when she opens her mouth.
‘He’s fine,’ Ayanna brushes the question away. ‘I want to have a look at the CCTV footage before lunch arrives.’
Let them have their moment of privacy.