She laid flat on her back, as the cold metal made every inch of her body cold. The bunk that she was given to sleep on while in holding, wasn't allowing her to get any sleep. She couldn't remember why she was sitting in this holding cell, or where everyone was. It was only her, and she was labeled a traitor.
///
"Name?" The dark haired man that was interviewing her, questioned.
"I have no idea." She replied, and he shook his head.
"I'm sure you can remember your name. Now, tell me it." He ordered, and she shut down almost instantly.
Her eyes went glassy, and her breathing became erratic. This was all too much for the woman who had no idea what was happening. She didn't even know who she was, and being bombarded with questions she couldn't remember wasn't helping. She stood up and started to pace the room, her socked feet padding against the cold concrete.
"How about I get you something to drink..." He trailed off, and she stopped and looked at him.
"Why am I being treated as a traitor? Did I do something that was against whatever country this is?"
"You don't even remember where you are?" He questioned, and she shook her head, as tears welled in her dark brown eyes.
"Something is wrong, and I can't remember. I want to remember, but I can't. I want to know who I left behind. Do I have a family? Husband? Kids? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?" She questioned, and the man stood.
"I'm going to see if we found anything else about you. I'll send another agent in to give you something warm to eat and drink. Just sit and relax." He spoke, before picking up the file and leaving.
He shut the door to the room, and took a slow breath. The thoughts he had before about her were fading away. She wasn't acting stupid. She was still unsure of everything that had happened, and didn't even remember her life before the accident. Maybe she had been drugged or something, because she really didn't seem like the person to try and bomb an airport.
///
She sat on the floor of the interrogation room, rocking back and forth as her mind hurt her more than anything else had. The door had opened several times, and an agent brought in tea and a small sandwich, but she could barely eat without feeling ill.
But this time, the door opened and the dark haired agent stepped in.
"We got a hit on your finger prints." He spoke, as he sat at the table, and watched the woman eyed him from a distance.
"Do you want to know?" He mused, and she nodded slowly.
"Yes." She whispered, and he stood up and walked towards her. He sat down on the floor next to her, which is something he'd never do, and he opened the file that held her information.
"You're Detective Olivia Benson from Manhattan."
"Am I a dirty cop?" She questioned eagerly.
"No, you aren't. You work for a special squad. You have a husband and kids."
"Kids?" She whispered, and as the man spoke again, everything came back.
"Yeah, three kids. A boy and two girls." He spoke, and then he looked into her eyes and saw more tears, and pain.
"I remember why I did it." She croaked out, before standing and starting to pace again like she had before.
"Why did you do that, Olivia?"
"A man is holding my husband and kids hostage. He said if I didn't do what he said, he'd kill them. He already killed my mother, and I couldn't lose my kids too." She whimpered, and the agent frowned.
"Who?" He breathed.
"His name is Marcus. He sells drugs and he also traffics women. I caught one of his men, and they got life in prison. He hated me, so he took my family, and he took me and my mother when I was with her. He killed her in front of me, and threatened to do the same, so I told him i'd do anything to save their lives, even if mine was taken." Olivia whispered, as she ran her hands through her hair.
"Okay, so it was forced." He spoke, as he stood and put the file on the table, and sat on the edge of it.
"I did it because I couldn't stand the idea of my family dying. My husband is such a good man, and I love him so much. My son is adopted, and he's never did anything bad, he was hurt from the moment he was born, and then we got him. Our girls are only 2 and 6 months. They haven't lived. They didn't deserve to die, so I guess I'm willing to lose my life or go to prison, as long as they are released."
"We will find them, Olivia. I promise." He spoke, but her eyes were wide and full of tears.
"If they know I'm working with you, they'll die. Please don't. Let me go, and I'll deal with it!" Olivia cried, and the agent shook his head.
"We'll get them back, and then I'll bring them back here. Just have faith in me."
"How can I do that? I'm going to prison!"
"You are not going to prison. Just go back to your cell, and everything will be alright."
///
Hours went by, and Olivia continued to pace her cell. Her body and mind were on overdrive, and she didn't know what to think let alone expect. What if they came back and said her children were killed? That she was going to prison for the rest of her life?
"Olivia, please come here." One of the guards spoke, and Olivia walked towards the cell door. It was opened as she approached, and he grabbed her arm and led her from the room.
It was a few minutes of walking the halls, and then she was put into a room, and she thought that someone was going to shoot into the room and kill her, but instead, the door opened, and four people spilled in.
"Momma!" Noah screamed, and Olivia turned around and knelt down and hugged her son as close to her body as possible. She looked up and saw Elliot with their daughters, Mae and Bella. Olivia picked her son up, and walked towards her husband and daughters, and Olivia wrapped her free arm around her husband as they stayed in an emotional embraced.
They had survived, and it was all because of her strength.
Hey guys! Thanks for reading! Please vote and comment all of your feedback below! :D