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Things Best Left Forgotten	By : CrushedAndBrokenRose Category: G through L > Law & Order Views: 3557 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or anything associated with it. I make no money from this.

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Olivia stepped into the bathroom as Lewis flipped on the light. She turned around to face him, using every last reserve within her to put on a brave face. However, it was a short-lived act as Lewis grinned and, peeling the duct tape off her face, whispered, "You ready, sweetheart?"
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Olivia stared at Lewis's gloating face with confusion. The back of her pants-clad legs were pressed up against the cool ceramic of the toilet, and she had no room to maneuver away from him. Her shoulders ached almost unbearably as the ever-present weight of the handcuffs imprisoning her sore and swollen wrists pulled them down. Her dark hair, typically as full of life and beauty as Olivia herself, hung limp, sweaty, and bedraggled in clumps around her face. She could feel her jaw gaping slightly after being released from its bond, and though it had been some time since she'd had any alcohol, she was still too loose-limbed and fuzzy-brained to have the presence of mind to close it.
"Look at you!" Lewis chortled. "Not feeling so superior now, are we?"
Olivia shook her head, not in response to his question - despite how he might choose to take the action – but in an attempt to rattle the pieces of her brain back into working order. She briefly closed her eyes and willed herself to be the woman she knew she still had to be somewhere deep inside – strong, fearless, a badass. She gathered her independence around her like a cloak and drew upon the image of a wonder woman to clear the last of the cobwebs from her head. Olivia took a deep breath in, straightened her spinal column, squared her shoulders, and tilted her chin up. She opened her eyes to glare full in Lewis's face, and then felt the breath she had taken stall in her chest. Instead of a superhero, she was now the tin man stuttering to a halt upon the realization that his joints desperately needed oil. And her oil – bravery, courage, hope – had run out. The air in her lungs gusted forth as she forlornly breathed the word, "No." She slumped back down like a marionette whose strings had just been cut. Olivia chanced a glance back up at Lewis in time to see his jaw harden. His eyes glinted like cold steel and he cocked his eyebrow in a silent, "Excuse me?"
But for a few moments, Olivia found she simply couldn't speak as she fully understood what it was Lewis had meant when he said she needed help. It wasn't enough for him that he was planning to put his hands on her, oh no. He expected her to ask him to do it. To invite him to peel back the layers and expose her secrets waiting to be found underneath. The dawning horror on her face mirrored the smug grin on his as he watched her emotions flicker in rapid succession, and he knew that she knew what he wanted.
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Suddenly, all the puzzle pieces seemed to fall into place for Olivia:

–why he redressed most of his victims

–why he hid some of them away

–why he hadn't undressed her... yet
All these women he had taken, his victims, were his twisted fantasy version of presents. Lewis was akin to a child on Christmas morning, greedily opening packages to see what was inside. It held little concern for him that they were left broken and ruined when he'd finished playing with them (in fact, he found he much preferred them that way), they still belonged to him and that was all that mattered.
Some, like Alice Parker, were found to be lacking, similar to new underwear or socks. Useful and serviceable enough, but certainly not anything worth wasting much time on putting away carefully to protect from prying eyes. Enjoyable for a while, but of no consequence if destroyed in the process. Left discarded when time was up. Alice's rape and torture, as brutal as they were, were more about revenge to him than anything else. He wanted her humiliated, and he got his wish.
Others held a much higher level of significance to him. They were gifts that were desired, approved of, a pleasant treat; something about these women made them important enough that he wanted to wrap them back up, preserve them. Particularly Mrs. Mayer, as Olivia was there to witness and observe his animalistic assault on her. She needed to be covered, concealed, kept from immediate viewing by just anyone who happened by. Mrs. Mayer was carefully handled – tenderly redressed and hung in a place of honor in the closet – a gift put away as a surprise for the next one who might find her. Repackaged in his mind and stored lovingly until such a time as he might choose to take that memory out and relive it.
Olivia began running through every known victim of Lewis in her mind and watching as they fell into different categories based on his connection to them. Her breath came more quickly, her vision went out of focus, and she teetered on the verge of hyperventilating as her brain acted like a hamster on a wheel spinning around and around trying to process all this information that suddenly was vividly clear. Then, a weight slammed into her chest and the hamster was thrown from its wheel. She was his final Christmas present. The one long-awaited gift that was more precious, more sacred, more wanted than anything else. He would gladly die for the privilege of owning her. Lewis had spent the better part of four days with Olivia not daring to undress, unwrap, open her because that would mean he would finally know what was inside the box. All the mystery would be revealed, and the anticipation would be over. But now, despite pressing concerns from the outside world – namely, getting rid of the van – Lewis had decided he'd waited long enough.
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Suddenly, Olivia was jerked out of her thoughts and back into the bathroom as she felt Lewis's hand caressing her jawline. He slid a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. Olivia's eyes darted around the bathroom, desperately trying to find any place to land other than Lewis's own eyes. But the gentle hand on her face turned harsh as Lewis began to squeeze her lower jaw harder and harder until it hurt so badly Olivia was sure he would crack it if he put any more pressure on it. She gave into the demanding force, and abandoning the search for a way out, locked her eyes with his. It was mesmerizing, the pull they felt toward one another. There was no denying the chemistry between them, as sick and evil a presence in the room as Lewis himself. They couldn't look away from one another, and Olivia's heart broke a little more at the realization that this man – this MONSTER – knew and understood more about her than any romantic interest she'd ever had. Possibly even understood more about her then El... No! She refused to go there. Predator and prey stared into one another's eyes: cruelty, arrogance, and lust reflecting in his; fear, despair, and anguish in hers.
Then without warning, the atmosphere in the room shifted as the familiar (reviled) grin slid back into place on Lewis's face and he tilted his head saying,
"I believe you had a question for me?"
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Things Best Left Forgotten