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Vengeance	By : Bucken-Berry Category: G through L > Law & Order Views: 2711 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own SVU or it's characters, nor am I making any money from this story.

Chapter List
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Alex's eyes fluttered lightly. She winced as pain flared through her, but managed to stay quiet.
What had happened? She had been with George, getting dinner, and then…
The men, wearing masks and using codenames, the baseball bat, the threats. They'd struck George, and he'd gone down hard- and then they'd hit her, too, and she'd passed out.
"George!" she called, rolling over. The adrenaline pumping through her system blocked the pain enough to let her move.
She saw that they were in a truck, and George was lying nearby. George looked absolutely awful, but that wasn't too surprising, though she was still worried. "George, can you hear me?" she asked.
George gave a small sound, but Alex couldn't tell whether it was an involuntary one or whether he was truly waking up. "George," she said again, shaking his shoulder.
"Ow," George gasped, but he opened his eyes.
"Sorry for hurting you," Alex said softly. "But I had to wake you up somehow."
"It's fine. I was unconscious for at least a while, so it's good that you woke me up," George said. "I would've done the same."
"Do you need help sitting up?" Alex asked. "Or do you want to stay there?"
George started to nod, but then he cringed and instead said, "Yeah- help me up, please."
Alex set her arm under George's shoulder and helped to pull him up to a sitting position. She helped him lean against the side of the truck, and then fell against it herself when some of the adrenaline left her and the pain returned.
"Will you be okay?" Alex asked, closing her eyes wearily. She opened them a few moments later.
George looked at her, face full of concern. "I'm more worried about you."
"I'm fine, just sore," she said unconvincingly.
George smiled weakly. "I doubt that. But since you're you, I'll pretend to take your word for it."
"Thanks," Alex said dryly. But she turned somber again as she asked, "How serious do you think our injuries are?"
"We both have concussions, at the very least, and they could turn dangerous if we don't get to a hospital. But I doubt they're about to bring us to one," George said. "But since we're awake and lucid now, that's a good sign that it isn't life-threatening. If we were to show up at a hospital, we'd probably get MRI's and CAT scans, and they'd keep us under close observation, but I doubt we'd need surgery. They'd probably keep us for a while to make sure, but that's all. I think we'll be okay."
"Assuming they don't do anything else to us," Alex said grimly.
"Yeah," George agreed. He shifted, biting his lip and holding his arm tightly against his chest.
"How badly are you hurt?" Alex asked worriedly.
George hesitated. "Pretty bad," he admitted.
George was a lot like her, and one of the things they had in common was their stubborn refusal to admit injuries. If George was actually admitting that he was hurt, he must have been feeling awful.
"Where do you hurt?" Alex asked, looking him over.
"Pretty much everywhere. You are too, I'd imagine," George said. Fatigue entered his voice.
She touched George's arm, retreating slightly when she felt him wince. She moved closer so that she could see in the dim light, and she bit back a gasp when she saw the bruise that had formed. It was so dark that it was almost black instead of purple or blue. He had a sprain at the very least, and she was surprised that the bone wasn't broken after all the abuse his wrist had clearly suffered. "Why did they do that?" Alex asked. "Once they'd gotten you subdued, they didn't need to do anything else to hurt you."
"Rage, probably," George said, trying but failing not to mumble as his energy faded. He closed his eyes again. "Or just plain sadism. They liked using us as punching bags."
"Why us, though?" Alex asked.
"Do you know any of them?" George asked, opening his eyes for a few moments. Alex could tell that he was close to falling asleep again. "The way they were about you, it felt like a personal vendetta. When I got in the way, that would have set them off."
"Not that I could tell. They only used codenames- stupid, cheesy ones, but still codenames- so I wouldn't know. And they wore masks, so I couldn't even go off their looks, either," Alex said.
George nodded once, but didn't speak. He closed his eyes again and for a few moments, it looked like he'd fallen asleep.
"George?" Alex asked worriedly.
"I'm awake," he murmured. "Not sure how long I'll stay that way, though."
"Try," Alex urged. Using the wall for support, she stood, muscles screaming in protest. She reached her hands down and helped George up, supporting his weight as he sagged against her.
"Not going to fall asleep standing up, are you?" Alex asked, intending to keep her voice light but failing.
"We'll see," George muttered.
Before Alex could say another word, the truck came to a stop. They heard the doors opening and closing and the sound of feet on the ground. They both went silent and waited, nervous at what their captors were doing. They heard them getting closer, until they were just outside.
The door opened, and a little light came in, though not much, as it was still night. It couldn't have been more than a few hours since they'd been taken, then. Or it could have been a whole day, but Alex doubted that.
Two men were visible. One of them gestured with the baseball bat and snapped, "Come on."
Alex wanted to refuse on principle, but it wasn't like they had anywhere else to go and she didn't want to set them off. With how violent they had been to get them here, Alex didn't want to see what they would do if they were truly angry.
Alex and George struggled to walk, burdened with pain, fear, and fatigue, but finally, they made it to the opening. Alex breathed the fresh air in slowly and prepared herself to fight if needed. The truck was quite high up, she noted.
"Can you make it down?" she asked George. George nodded weakly. "I'll go first so I can help you," she offered. George would normally have been a little stronger than her, but he obviously wasn't right now, and she was taller.
She didn't feel up to jumping down either, but the need to help George gave her just enough strength to overcome her own weakness. She let George go, and after waiting a second to make sure he could stand on his own, she pushed herself out of the truck and to the ground. Then she held her arms out as George attempted the same. He gave a small cry of pain and his legs wobbled as he landed, but Alex caught and steadied him.
She looked him over, trying to figure out what she was missing. Even with his concussion, that still wasn't enough to explain his dismal condition. There was something else, but she didn't known what.
Her alarm was quickly diverted as one of their attackers pulled out a gun and growled, "Follow us. If you so much as think about fighting us or running, or giving anything beside your full cooperation, we'll shoot you both and leave you for dead. There's nowhere you can go; the nearest town is miles away."
Alex swallowed hard, but nodded. She looked over at George and whispered, "Can you walk?"
"Don't have a choice, do I?" he replied. He fought to keep his eyes open. "Just support me like you've been doing." He exhaled sharply and whispered, "I just want to sleep. I'm so tired…"
"Just hold on," Alex encouraged, setting her fear and pain aside. She grabbed George's arm and placed it over her shoulders so that she could support more of his weight. She was alarmed at how heavily he leaned on her for support, at how quickly he seemed to be fading, but there wasn't anything she could do about that now. She took a step, and though he moved slowly, George still managed to walk.
One of the men stayed behind to keep an eye on them, while the two in front led the way. They trekked through a wooded trail, and soon came to a house. They took the stairs to the entrance, the pace slowing down as George struggled to work up the energy to negotiate the steps. Finally they were at the top, and they walked inside.
Alex looked around. They were in a living room, furnished with a sofa and loveseat. Before she could look at anything else, the men started walking down the hall, and Alex once again struggled to get George there. They walked down one more flight of stairs, coming to a two-room basement. They were standing in a bedroom, and Alex presumed the adjoining room was a bathroom.
"Al… ex…" George said faintly. The color drained from his face and his legs almost gave out under him, and Alex just barely managed to get him balanced against a wall in time. What was wrong with him? She wondered, panicked.
"Please, just let George sit down," Alex pleaded, looking at their three captors. "He's really hurt. Whatever you need to do- can't it be here?"
"Fine," the same one who had carried the gun- Alex presumed him to be the leader- said. "He can sit over there." He gestured to the bed in the corner.
"C'mon, George, just a few more steps," Alex whispered encouragingly. They barely made it to the bed and Alex eased him down, the small man all but collapsing. On impulse, Alex lifted his shirt, and she gasped at the bruising she saw. Combined with the concussion, that explained everything. They could have caused internal injuries with the force they'd clearly used on him. Even if they thought they needed to use more force to subdue a man, there still wasn't any reason for them to have hit him that hard; it was like they had used him as a punching bag, but with the baseball bat. Not that there was a good reason for them to have kidnapped them, either, she thought angrily.
She wondered why he hadn't said anything earlier, but she supposed he must have been focused on the concussion. And it was a lot like him to try and deny any weakness when possible. He'd probably thought any weakness he felt was the result of that instead of any internal trauma from the other bruises. Her own concussion symptoms were slowly improving, but his obviously weren't.
She set George's shirt back down. George's eyes were closed, his breathing slow and deep. Alex jogged his shoulder, but he didn't respond: he was either deeply asleep or he had lost consciousness again.
"What do you want with us?" Alex demanded, looking across the room.
The leader stepped forward. "You'll find out soon enough. Now, as for your friend…" He grabbed his gun and pointed it in their direction. "We really don't have a use for him: it's all about you. It's a good thing he's asleep, so he won't feel this. Lucky for him."
No! Alex's mind screamed. Her heart started to pound against her chest, and her body almost froze with fear. "P-Please!" she cried, and any other time she would have been embarrassed that her voice was a pathetic squeak. "You don't need to do that! Just- if it's me you want, don't punish him for it! Just let him go."
"Well, ADA's like you hate to make deals," the man said, almost playfully. "I don't think you know how to be fair."
"I'll do whatever you want!" Alex promised. Adrenaline flooded her, to the point that it was in excess, and her fight-or-flight response kicked in. She felt her muscles tensing, readying her for a fight or running. Her body screamed at her to charge, to do something. "He's already hurt bad enough as it is. Just let him go, he doesn't pose any danger to you in his state."
"Well, Cabot, let me tell you something. Right now, the way I see it, I have the chance to get rid of one threat and to use that to my advantage later on. But if I have something to gain, which I think I may, I'm willing to let him stay alive, with a few conditions."
"What are they?" Alex said. She would agree to nearly anything at this point, as long as it meant both of them made it out alive.
It didn't even occur to her to wonder why he knew her name and job title. All she cared about was protecting George.
"You both become our prisoners. You're always putting people there, not caring about the possibility that they may not deserve it. Now we get to do that to you. You both stay here, you both do whatever I say. You break any of my rules, the deal's off and he dies. If he breaks any of my rules, he dies. I don't care about him one bit, but you do, so tread carefully and get him to do the same," the man said.
Alex swallowed hard. It wasn't an easy thing to agree to- who knew what the men were going to do to them?- but anything was better than death. "O-okay," she said, swallowing hard.
"Good. Now, get over here," the man said. The other two started walking to her.
Alex swallowed again, glancing at George, then started walking. They met her halfway. Her heart was still hammering and she wanted to run even as she looked at each of them.
"Strip." The command was simple, but Alex knew what it meant. She knew the pain she was about to suffer, knew that her life was about to change beyond the point of no return, if it hadn't already.
Too afraid to argue, she inhaled slowly and tried to control the trembling that started in her limbs. She undid the buttons on her shirt one-by-one, then moved on to her pants. She thought of Olivia, and what Olivia would say when she found them. Olivia would make it okay. She'd save them and help Alex move on. Alex knew what she was facing but Olivia would support her through it. She just had to make it out of this alive.
She pulled off her bra and panties, already sending herself somewhere else. She started planning her wedding to Olivia, what the two would wear and where they'd get married. She wondered what George and Mike would do for theirs. She and Olivia would probably do something outside, maybe in a garden. George and Mike didn't like summer as much, though. Maybe they'd get married in the snow. She almost giggled at the thought. Maybe they'd all sit on sleds during the ceremony.
When the man forced her to the ground and pushed inside her, tears formed in her eyes from pain and humiliation. She wanted to fight, she wanted to punch and kick this bastard black and blue. But she couldn't let herself cause George's death, so she stayed still, biting her lip to keep in her cries.
The man smacked and backhanded her and did everything he could to make it as painful as possible. She couldn't stop herself from crying out, and she tried desperately to think of something, anything, comforting. She thought about George. If he had been awake, he would talk to her through it and distract her. She heard his voice in her head, soothing her with that deep, even voice of his- not the weak, frightening one she'd heard minutes earlier- and instructing her on how to keep her mental state intact. So she looked over at him and pretended to talk, pretended to start another one of their mock arguments. She was a coffee addict, whereas George preferred tea as his source of caffeine whenever he could. She could hear him retorting about the sludge at the station and how battery acid would probably be more satisfying.
She felt the shudder from her attacker- her captor, her rapist- and he pulled out of her a minute later. She breathed a sigh of relief, wanting nothing more than to collapse on the bed and join George in sleep.
The men leered at her. One of them, one who wasn't the leader said, tauntingly, "Now, go get some rest. We'll all be having fun tomorrow. All except you and him-" He pointed to George- "That is."
The leader did nothing to contradict the statement. Alex bit her lip. More pain awaited. And what were they going to do to George? Hoping they'd leave him alone was optimistic to the point of foolishness. All she could hope was that they didn't give him lethal injuries. But any men unstable enough to kidnap two people, nearly kill them, and rape one, couldn't be trusted for anything.
She somehow managed to push herself up and limp towards the bed. The pain between her legs was excruciating, but not enough that she couldn't walk. She somehow found the drive to make it to the bed, where her strength finally wavered and she sank down weakly.
She glared at the three as they left the room, screaming curses at them in her mind. She'd get to tell them exactly what she thought of them some day, she was determined of that. And Olivia would have some choice words for them once she found them. And Elliot. No, Elliot wouldn't, he'd have choice fists for them. She smirked to herself. Between Olivia, Elliot, Don, Fin, and Munch, these guys were going to regret ever touching her. As soon as she got out of here, at least. She knew realistically that the chances dropped steadily with every minute they spent here, but planning her revenge gave her some much-needed happiness.
She shook George's shoulder again, but he was still out like a light. Looking at the other side of the bed, she saw that there was a folded-up blanket and a pillow on the corner. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her. She felt guilty for not sharing, but George still had his clothes and she didn't, and besides, he was already asleep. She lifted George's neck gently and set the pillow under him, then set her own aching head on it.
Her head ached. Every inch of her body ached. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the pain was returning in full force. She stared at the ceiling and tried to keep from crying. She wished she would wake up and find that this had all been an awful nightmare, but she knew that wasn't going to happen.
Hopefully George would be better soon and he could help her with this. If their attackers followed through on their promise, they were in for a hellacious day tomorrow. They'd need each other's support.
She was too tired and in too much pain to think anymore. She closed her eyes and eventually, the pain lessened enough for her to sleep.
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Vengeance