He stood, hunched over, breathing heavily with his palms flat on the sink. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. It hadn't worked earlier. He'd been counting all day. He walked into the crib and shut the door behind him. He found her sitting on the bed and what he saw would linger in his mind forever. Beyond this morning, beyond today, beyond tomorrow it would remain.

She sat on the bunk, leaning against the wall for support. She'd paced a rut into the floor and finally gave up. They'd fought before, but this time was different. There didn't seem to be any fixing what they'd done. What he'd done. The words were still fresh in her memory and she couldn't staunch the flow of tears that came from the recollection of them. How a strand of words, when in the right sequence could cause so much pain, she'd never know. She looked up at him as he stood there. She couldn't detect the expression on his face. She used to know every one by heart. A shiver went through her body and wetness ran down her hand. She'd never felt more cold.

I thought you had my back.

I did.

Well I sure as hell didn't see you behind me.

You didn't even know I wasn't there, Elliot.

If you had been paying attention I wouldn't have been ahead of you.

He threw me onto the ground, damnit! I still had you. I helped you cuff him, remember?

Yeah.

So, what's the problem?

He took a step forward. She'd gotten a ride to the precinct with another officer on scene. He meant to apologize. It never came. He'd started in on her. Like so many times before, he had dropped the ball. On them, their friendship, everything. He walked slowly to the cot where she sat and kneeled before her, eyes locked with hers. It was then that he saw what he'd missed earlier. He failed to notice the tear tracks she rarely let show in his presence. If he'd looked a little harder, he'd see that the hand holding the ice pack to her temple was shaking, ever so slightly. If he'd listened more closely, he could have heard the cracking of the foundation of her heart. He breathed heavily, hoping to expel the anger once and for all. He wasn't even sure why he was mad. What was the problem?

She felt a hand on the side of her face below the ice pack, and another take hold of her head from the other side. She heard him gasp as he pried her frozen fingers off of the pack and pulled it away.

He stifled the anger once again. How had he missed it before? The term 'blinding rage' had never made more sense to him. He set the dripping pack on the floor and grabbed a piece of the blanket. He tilted her head so he could see in the light, and began wiping off the moisture from her face. He tended to water that ran down her arm and what remained on her hand, raw from the cold of the pack. He set the fabric down and took her hand in his, creating friction and warmth.

She watched him in a daze. The gentleness of those hands amazed her. A familiar expression in those eyes, telling her that the storm was over. They no longer pierced her soul. She blinked when she realized he'd said something.

"Olivia?" His hands were glued to their spot. They would not move without her permission.

"Wh…oh." She glanced down. He had a hold of the hem of her shirt. It was wet from the cold liquid. She raised her arms slowly and allowed him to help her. Her breath caught in her throat when his hands brushed her side.

"Almost done." He slowed his movements, deliberately taking more time than was needed. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. He pulled the shirt over her head, widening the top so it wouldn't make contact with her injury. He lifted her tank top and his eyes grew wide. He saw the deep, purplish hue on her usually unmarred skin. He questioned her with his eyes and she nodded in return, allowing him to touch it. His fingertips ran over the mark and he placed his left hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. He felt something shift under his fingers.

"Stop. Please." She could all but whisper, her voice laced with pain. She felt the grip on her shoulder keeping her in place. She clutched the hand, her knuckles white.

"Broken rib, Liv." He was relieved it was low enough to where it wouldn't cause her lung to be perforated. He stood and loosened the grip on his hand and pulled off his sweatshirt. He bunched the material up and put it over her head before helping her put her arms through the sleeves. He then studied her eyes. No concussion, thank God.

"Thanks." She mumbled the words, unsure of what else to say. He nodded in return and seemed to hesitate before speaking.

"What happened?" He sat and crossed his legs on the bunk. He hadn't concerned himself with details earlier. He should have. The moment it went down, because had he paid attention, he would have seen two things. She had his back. He never had hers. The reality was sickening and the urge to throw up made itself known. He swallowed, his eyes fixed on hers as she told the story. The story he should have known already.

"Uh…you told me to stand by the fire escape while you went inside. I went around and he was already there. I yelled at him to stop. You must have still been outside. I didn't have time to pull out my gun. He saw me and charged. I felt a gun under his shirt. I turned my head to the side before I hit the pavement. He kicked me in the side and ran. I heard you call out to him. You started chasing him. I got up and followed. You didn't know he was armed. I caught up with you when you tackled him. He was going for the gun and I cuffed his free hand so you could get the other." She told the story in fragments. At the time, she had been dazed from hitting her head.

"You had my back." He hoped it didn't sound like a question. He'd misjudged her. He thought she hadn't been in position. While he was chasing the suspect, he had wondered where she was.

"You know I do. At least, I thought you did. I know how to do my job. You told me to catch him when he came down. I was in place." She knew he wanted to know where she was. She hated the position she was in having to defend herself.

"I know. I know that. I just…I don't know. It's like when you're scared out of your mind about something. Then when it's over, you're angry at the situation. I was angry. All I could think about was that I had chased that asshole down that damn alley and I wasn't sure where you even were. When we got back to the station, I was so mad at myself for not checking on you. We weren't sure the guy did it; we were just questioning him. I should have gone back and I didn't." He shook his head at the gravity of the situation. He couldn't believe he'd reamed her out. She was hurt and in pain and he never even saw it. He never even asked her what happened, he'd just assumed.

"I was angry, too. I know you've said in the past that you feel like you have to watch my back more so than anyone else. I can't help how you feel, but I guess I thought even when you said it you still knew that I was capable of doing my job. I can't control what people do. He would have gone after you, had you been in my position. You know that, right?" In the back of her mind, she'd thought that maybe he felt like he had to protect her because she couldn't protect herself.

"I know that you can protect yourself, but it doesn't stop me from worrying. I was so scared when I didn't know you were. I'm not the best at conveying that, though. I guess I blew a gasket. I owe you an apology. I'm sorry, Liv." He let out a ragged sigh. Silence seemed to stretch on.

"What do we do now?" She couldn't stop the words from coming out as a sob. The day's events were hitting her. She was exhausted and she just wanted to be a woman. It was so tiring having to put on a brave face all the time.

"We start over. Before I turned into an asshole. Yesterday, the day before, whichever time. I start appreciating what I have before it's too late. I already lost my wife and my kids. I don't want to lose you." He stared into her eyes. They glistened with moisture.

"I uh…I was wondering what it was going to look like when I went down there with your shirt on." She smiled, realizing they were on two different pages. Par for the course.

"Oh. Well, I can fix that. Your shirt was ripped in the scuffle." He grabbed the shirt she'd been wearing and pulled the fabric as hard as he could until it ripped.

"Elliot!" She grabbed the shirt and held it up. She looked at the back and couldn't see any damage. As she turned the shirt around, she saw his eyes had gone misty. She turned the shirt around and held it up to the light. She realized why he reacted the way he did. The fabric was missing over where her heart would be. She lowered the shirt and saw him give a nod.

She followed him and as they neared the door, he slowed his stride so that they were side-by-side. They stood there, staring at what lay before them. The past put behind them, they were ready for their future.

Before they walked out the door, Elliot took the shirt from Olivia. He balled up the torn shirt and threw it into the trashcan and along with it all the memories of the day. The sight of the tears on her face. The feel of her cold hands. The sound of her heart breaking. Seeing her that way caused his own heart to crumble and fall in shambles. For the first time in a long time, he experienced her pain.

So don't start crying
I'll start crying
My heart's broken too

Lyrics are "My Heart's Broken Too" by Sugarland