(Disclaimer: They're not mine. Dick Wolf, NBC, Universal Studios... they own 'em. Suing this poor kid from a little town somewhere in the East would be a serious waste of time, since I own nothing worth taking.)
"Olivia," I try to catch her attention as she hurries across the precinct's parking lot, trying to escape the cold air.
She turns when I say her name, her scarf and hair being tousled by the wind. "What, John?" She looks at me, her dark eyes huge and sad. Seeing that expression in her eyes would normally make me want to know what's wrong in her world, but I already know. It's him. A man she used to be able to love is tearing her apart.
"You can't live like this, Olivia. Why do this to yourself?"
She shakes her head. "And do what? Leave him to fall apart? I can't do that to him."
"Look at what it's doing to you. When's the last time you were happy with him?"
Olivia closes her eyes and sighs. "I'm not doing this, John. Not now. I can't just walk away from him. He needs me there."
"Can you give the selfless hero crap a break for once? I'm just asking you to think about yourself for a second. Is that so hard for you to do? Look at yourself. You're not happy there. He's not helping."
"And I'm just supposed to turn my back on him? Is that what you think I should do?" She glares at me. "I can't do that."
"You deserve to be happy, Liv. He doesn't even know what he has. You don't deserve this." I step a little closer and reach for her gloved hand.
She sighs and pulls away, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. "Don't. Just – don't. Leave me alone." She turns her back, walking across the asphalt, toward her car.
"Olivia… damnit." Frustration fills me as her car's engine sputters to life and then suddenly goes quiet. She tries again, getting a few more sputtering sounds as she tries to make the engine turn over and start.
I make my way over and she rolls down her window, sighing. "It's the cold. It's not starting."
"I heard," I comment. "You gonna call a tow?"
"Your car's here?" She asks.
"Yeah. I actually drove myself to work," I joke and she smiles, slightly. It's the first time I've seen her smile at all in months.
"I've got jumper cables in the trunk. Wanna try and give it a boost?"
I blink. A woman, born and raised in Manhattan has jumper cables? "You live in a city this size and you just happen to have jumper cables in the trunk?"
She shakes her head. "My friend's father was a mechanic. He insisted. When I bought my first car, a set of jumper cables was my birthday present." She smiles at the memory and I fish my keys out of my pocket.
Four attempts at boosting her engine later, Olivia throws up her hands in defeat. "I'll leave it. Have it towed in the morning."
She gets out, slings her bag over her shoulder and locks the doors, slamming the driver's one closed. She pulls her phone from her pocket and presses one button – a speed dial, I realize. She leans against the side of her car, pushing her hair out of her face. "Goddamnit, Elliot. Answer the phone," she mutters, anger in her words.
She gives up, again, snapping the phone closed and slipping it into her pocket. "Thanks, John. I'm just glad it didn't die on me on the way home," she says, tucking her long hair back from her face. "I think I'll go get a cab"-
"Like hell you are," I cut her off, quickly. "I'm not letting you get a cab – do you have any idea what time it is?"
She sighs. "You remember what happened the last time one of you guys decided it was your responsibility to take care of me?"
She's referring to the relationship between herself and her partner. The man who used to be her partner, in every sense of the word. They were closer than most. Or at least more obvious about it. We all chalked it up to a solid friendship between them. Something outside the job that connected them.
And then the inevitable happened, in this job. Her partner's marriage fell apart, like so many do. When she got him to stop pushing her away, she never left him alone. She didn't want to see him fall apart. She did what any friend would do.
She broke through to him. Gave him her shoulder to lean on. And we all knew when they walked into the squad room one morning together, but not speaking. We all knew what had happened. What so many of us had been betting on since she was the new kid fresh off the street had finally happened.
She's been by his side for about a year now. And right now, she's killing herself for him. They were happy, early on. That shadow in her dark eyes that had always been there seemed to disappear. They laughed more often and they talked instead of fighting.
But over the last few months, things have changed between them. The shadow's returned to her eyes. They don't come in together in the morning and they don't leave together at the end of the day, like they used to. They're fighting again and it's gotten worse than it was.
After another one of their fights in the middle of the squad room, I found her on the roof. She was losing him, she told me, refusing to look at me. He was pushing her away. Getting distant on her again. She thought it was her fault. That there was something wrong with her; something she was doing that was driving him away.
When I heard her say that, something in me snapped. She was blaming herself because he was too blind to see what he had in her. I turned her around and I kissed her, because she didn't do a damn thing to deserve what she was going through with Elliot. But it surprised us both.
She lost herself, for a second – and then she pulled away, shaking her head. She wasn't going to do that to him, she said.
So I let her go. And now I have to see her suffering. He's so distant from her now that most nights she stays in the crib. I don't know what the hell the man is thinking, but he needs a wake-up call.
"Liv?" I question, quietly, as she slips into the passenger seat of my car.
"Yeah?" She glances over at me.
"You figured out what's eating Elliot? Why he's doing this?"
She sighs and drops her head back against the seat. "I don't know, John. But he did have wedding pictures out when I got up this morning."
Having just pulled into a line of traffic, I turn and look at her. That had to be an insult to her – and yet another blow. "Liv…"
She shakes her head. "I can't do this. You're right. I can't live like this. Can't let him walk on me. But if I leave him, too…"
I shake my head. "I'm not gonna tell you what to do, Olivia – I don't want you to bite me. But sometimes you just gotta give it up. You can't save everybody. You might just have to let him go."
She sighs. "I didn't expect him to just forget about her, John – I didn't. I wasn't stupid enough to expect that. But he can't let her go. It's almost like he can't decide what he wants – her or me. Even though the papers are signed."
She deserves a hell of a lot better than this. She deserves to be loved – not be a rebound girl to him. I'm sure he didn't mean it that way, in the beginning, but it seems like that now.
The building she lives in, with him, looms over the dark sidewalk, as we sit on the curb.
She checks her appearance in the rearview mirror and glances at me. "Thanks, John. I appreciate this."
I hold her eyes. "Liv – when you decide what you want to do, I'll be right here."
Olivia glances up at the building and sighs. "I don't think I want to go upstairs. It's just like being in a room with a stranger, most of the time."
Son of a bitch. He's staying with her because he probably thinks he'd hurt her even more if he left. But he's doing the most damage right now, by being so damned distant. It's just like a married couple who need to divorce, but stay together for the kids. Their staying together does the most damage.
"You don't have to go in, if you don't want to."
She sighs. "It's my home. And I don't have anywhere else to go."
"I've got a couch," I tell her, quietly. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself for him, got that? He's too blind to realize what he's got – and what he's doing to you. If you don't want to go up there… "
"So you're offering me your couch?" She says, quietly.
"It's open," I answer.
Olivia nods, looking grateful. "I owe you one," she says, settling back into the seat.
"No. You don't owe me a thing," I tell her, turning the key again.
She looks around the small apartment I moved into when I first came here from Baltimore. In the eyes of a life-long native New Yorker like her, this place is a decent size. But sometimes it feels too small, to me.
"Can I get you anything?" I offer her, taking her coat.
"Gentleman, aren't you?" She questions, smiling.
"I don't know about that one," I answer, glad to see her smiling again. "I don't think there's anything edible around here – cup of coffee? You want to help yourself to the shower?"
"Nah. I'm okay," she answers, as I motion her into a seat on the couch.
"Are you really?" I raise an eyebrow as I join her.
"Yeah. Just tired, that's all," she says, trying to stifle a yawn in the same breath. "I don't know why I let him put me through so much crap, John. I don't understand it. Normally, I would have just left – and I wouldn't have let a man ruin a year of my life."
"You loved him. Anyone could've seen it. You two were happy together. I can't say I blame you for not wanting to let go of that."
Olivia reaches out and touches my arm with one hand, the other rubbing her eyes, not caring or not noticing that she's smudging what little makeup she was wearing. "Yeah. It's not the way it was – I should have noticed that. Most of the time, it doesn't even seem like he's there. He's not the same guy."
The one time she really loved a man – and he can't make up his mind between her and his ex-wife. So while he's deciding, he leaves her alone. Gets so damned distant that she doesn't even want to go home. Lets it go so far that she feels like she's living alone. Something about that just seems wrong, to me, looking at her.
I have proof for what I've thought for years, now. She's too stubborn to give up on a relationship when it lasts. She wants things to work out. And even when they're not, she doesn't just give up and walk away. She hangs on.
She blinks at me, drawing me back to the present. And her, sitting on my couch. I lean in and kiss her cheek, softly.
"John… I can't do this to him. Let me end it and then…" She sighs, quietly. "Just let me end it with him… and then maybe."
I nod, understanding. For as much shit as he's put her through, she's still loyal. She doesn't want to hurt him, still.
"There's no hurry, Liv. Really. Let me get you a blanket – I think we're both about to fall asleep."
She smiles and nods, as we trade a look of silent understanding.