Over Her Head 2

1.Surviving

First, I want a start off with one thing; the updates for this will be s-l-o-w! I may get a couple out, back to back but don't expect it, my memory is basically still a mess so I'll need time to get stuff in order so please don't hold that against me. That being said, here's the sequel to Over Her Head, and I hope you enjoy!

Dick Wolf owns the SVU characters.

"Why isn't he crying? I can't, why isn't he crying?" She asked frantically as the doctor cut the cord of the baby and handed him off to the nurse.

"Olivia, I need you to calm down." The doctor said in a tone that was meant to soothe her but just made her more nervous as her contractions continued to help her deliver the second baby.

"No, what's going on? What- oh god!" She cried, breathing through the pain, and out of her mind with fear! "David..."

"You're doing fine Queenie..." He said as he looked nervously over to the table where the baby was.

"David why isn't he crying? Something's wron- ooohhhhh!" She screamed as the second baby was making its way out of her. "God it's coming!" She put all her strength into pushing when she heard those words from across the room, low and sad.

Time of death, 3:27pm.

"Nooooo!" She cried as she thrashed about. She was at home, in her bed and in the throes of another nightmare. David quickly woke up, turning on his bedside lamp and went to wake her.

"Queenie baby it's alright; it's alright!" He said to her softly as she woke up, quite disoriented. "That's it baby, you're okay." He said as he took her into his arms. "It's okay."

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" It came as a whisper into the crook of his neck as she held on to him in tears, breathing hard with her large belly stretched taut across the purple, satin nightgown she wore.

"Shhh, it's alright, I've got you now."

"I don't know why I..." She cried. "I woke up again, before the other baby could..."

"It's just a dream. That's all baby." He said as she struggled to get out of bed. "Where are you-"

"To pee." She kissed his cheek after she got up. "Go back to sleep, I'll be fine." She said as she waddled into the bathroom and shut the door, leaning against it and breaking into silent sobs. It had been four months since she lost the other baby; this baby's twin, and time didn't seem to make it any easier. Every day, she thought about him, dreamt about him and sometimes, she swore she could feel him moving inside her. Her therapist said it would take time for her to come to terms with it, but when and how long?

David sat up in bed, wanting to go to the door of the bathroom, to take her in his arms, but he knew that she would just pretend that everything was fine, when in reality, everything was anything but fine.

.

Eight months, one week, four days and 14 hours. That's how long I've been a prisoner here; a sex slave, catering to the very richest in the world to play out their most perverted fantasies and I've more than happily done them all. Well, depending on the people in charge; happily. Ask me, and you'll get a different story, one filled with heartache and a desperation to be back home!

The moments I had where nothing was expected of me, I'd sit and try to imagine my old life. My friends, the people that loved me. They all must think I'm dead! I'd often think, never giving any outward signs that I was thinking of them. No, I'd learned a long time ago to cry inside while smiling outward, no matter how much my situation ate away at me. I'd save my tears for those nights when I would finish a party and be so bruised and so sore, I'd lie there in the infirmary and wail, ice packs often needed to soothe the bleeding and swelling down below while I'd have my wrists treated for the ropes that dug in too deep while I was subdued during rough sex, or the horrible welts to my entire body from the whips that they so loved to use on me for their idea of play.