I'm back again, with yet another fic! This one is a little different than anything I've written so far, but I hope you'll enjoy it.

Thanks to Oz for the beta, and to Kait, Heather, and Emma for being so supportive of my idea.

She exits the bathroom, her wet brown hair dripping onto the carpet. He spies her from his prone position on the couch, and sees that she's been crying. Again. Elliot sighs without thinking, and all too quickly realizes his mistake. She stomps across the room towards him, dressed in her short robe with the pockets full of Kleenex, a reminder of all they have lost.

I used to love that robe, he thinks. The way it would never stay closed, as if even the soft checkered fabric understood her body was too beautiful to be covered up... She stops a yard away from him, halting in mid-step.

"Look, I'm sorry if I'm not handling this the way you think I should. I'm sorry if you think I should be stronger, get past this, stop crying. I'm sorry I can't behave like a cop in this situation, but dammit!" Her voice breaks on the curse, the next words coming out as a whisper. "You're supposed to understand."

"I don't know what to do, either, 'Livia," he says. "Jesus, baby—" He stops cold after uttering the term of endearment, the pet name she used to secretly enjoy but now starts a fight.

"What did you say?" she seethes.

"Honey, I'm sorry."

"What. Did. You. Say."

"Olivia, you know that's not what I was referring to."

"I know I'm a failure, Elliot. I know I can't give you five perfect children, hell, I can't even give you one! But you don't have to constantly remind me of that fact." Her face is stone-cold, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

"Kathy was a lot younger…" He stops talking when he realizes he just put his foot in his mouth. He knows he has to get his hands on her, settle her down before she explodes, but she is pacing the room now, her eyes angry and betrayed.

"Liv, I didn't mean to say that." He follows her path across the rug, and when she spins around to retrace her steps he is there, and he wraps his arms around her as tightly as he can. "You've got to know that's not what I meant to say."

She fights him for a second, more startled at this tactic than upset. She relaxes, her arms uncrossing to wrap around him, grabbing fistfuls of his sweatshirt. They hold tight to one another, fighting the gap this situation has forced between them.

Both murmur apologies, both feeling responsible for a situation so far out of their hands. They make promises they can't keep, knowing this may never get better, knowing the love they share might not be enough this time.

He watches the clock for just over fourteen minutes before he feels her sag against him, her breathing even. He bends down, grabbing her behind the knees and lifting her into his arms. He carries her to their bed, tucks her under their sheets, and crosses the room. He sits on the armchair they've made love on so many times, and begins his vigil.

--

She wakes up with tears in her eyes, as she has every day since she lost him. She thinks it was a 'him.' He felt like a 'him.'

The early morning sunrise burns her reddened eyes, and she closes them, the tears she'd held back now cascading down her face. She doesn't bother to wipe them away, instead letting their tracks mingle with all of those that have come before.

It's after she shuts her eyes she realizes what she saw. Her husband, propped up in their striped chair, fully awake. She knows he's worried about her, but she doesn't remember how to worry about him.

"Elliot." Her voice is quiet, scratchy, but she knows he hears her. She reaches her hand out to him, her palm uncurling in invitation. "Come to bed."

Olivia doesn't bother to open her eyes. She knows every inch of his body, this room. He slowly rises from the seat, traipsing across the carpet. He grabs her hand as he settles, but that is all that touches. He doesn't pull her to him, nor does he cross the invisible middle line. He just holds her hand, closes his eyes, and gives in to rest.

--

He opens his eyes, the bright light of midday filtering through their blinds. They never have gotten around to buying curtains. They never make the time for themselves.

Elliot wants to touch her, to kiss her all over, to tuck himself into her strength and cry for all that's lost, for all that may never be found again. He shakes his head, knocking that idea right out of his thoughts. He won't fail her now. She needs him and he won't let her down.

It's cold outside now, but she still gets warm when she sleeps. She's shoved her covers down to her knees, and he can see a sliver of her stomach. He shifts closer, softly, silently, untying her already lose robe, just enough to place a kiss on her empty stomach. A sob shoots through him, the vibration touching her skin.

Her right hand comes down from above her shoulder, cupping the back of his head. She scratches him gently with short nails, sending shivers down his spine. He nuzzles her hip bone, scooting himself downward, ready to reconnect. She is nearly naked now, her robe lying uselessly on either side of her body.

Her fingers tighten in his hair, but she makes no move to stop him. He begins to lick and suck at her, his hands sliding over her hips to gently rest on her backside. He works her slowly, giving her a chance to stop him, something she hasn't failed to do every time prior to this morning. The muscles in her legs tense, but she holds him there, not pulling him away, seemingly not denying herself this one small pleasure amidst a world of pain.

She lets out a strangled cry as she comes, goose bumps covering her now chilled skin. He slides up her body, covering her with the navy blue sheet as his head arrives at her pillow. He gathers her up in his arms, neither one willing to break the spell with words.

It is then that he notices her eyes are a little bit brighter, that for once she doesn't seem to be crying, and he thinks I can do this. I can keep her happy, I can save us. He tucks a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, and then he begins stroking her jaw line with the rough pad of his thumb.

He wants to tell her how much he loves her, that he's hurting too, that they can try again whenever she's ready, but all the words die out before they ever reach his lips. He moves his hand back into her hair, massaging her scalp as her eyes close sleepily.

His eyes drift south, and he is staring at the slight scar on her neck. He realizes not only how much they have already lost, but how much they could have lost without each other. He makes a silent pact with her, to fight for her, to save her even at the cost of himself.

--

She's been awake for a couple hours now, sitting silently in the kitchen. She ordered a large pizza with the works, Elliot's favorite. She's not really hungry, but she knows he will be, and someone needs to take care of him.

He wakes up when it arrives, and they eat together, the wood of the table serving to distance them once again. She needs him now, to be close to her physically, emotionally. She just doesn't know how to say it out loud. She swallows her last bite of crust, realizing only then she ate all three slices he'd placed on her plate.

Her bare feet seek out his below the table, and she tangles them together at the ankles. His eyes seek her own out, and she can see the tiny crinkles form, as if he is about to smile. It's been far too long since he's smiled, she thinks. She loses herself in his slight hopefulness, realizing that it can be this simple. She can make him happy again.

Suddenly she is up and around the table, kissing him fiercely. Her hands are grasping his broad shoulders tightly, mouth pressed against his. She slips her tongue into his mouth, only to be rewarded with his soft moan. They battle back and forth, not for domination, but for each other.

Sooner than either partner wanted, they are panting for breath, her forehead resting against his. She rubs her nose against his, gently, and he pulls her to sit in his lap. She grabs his hand, places it over hers, on top of her now barren stomach.

"I miss him," she says simply.

He kisses her cheek, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Me, too."

TBC.