Her heart aches, but some part of her is glad that it does because it hasn't been able to feel any other emotion since that day and at least the ache there lets it know it still beats. Her head aches too, from overuse, from replaying and thinking about the incident over and over again. Absentmindedly she touches her hip where her badge used to sit seeking the solace and sense of security that it used to bring her. But all her fingers find is the cloth of her pants. Her badge is gone, her job is gone, her life is gone. Everything she loved – everyone – is gone.
Sure, her colleagues had all tried to visit her. Even Much and Cragen had knocked on her door, pleading with her to let them in. But, she has been numb, lost to the world. She is alone and the one person who could ever help her left her three years ago, never to be seen or heard from again.
Olivia sits against the wall, knees pulled to her chest and arms wrapped around them. She stares blankly at the wall across the room. She ran out of tears hours ago, but the salty streaks left on her cheeks still show. She doesn't know how long she's been sitting there. Days? Weeks? The only time she moves is to go to the bathroom and then she's back on the floor.
She's been sitting for who knows how long when the sound of knocking at her door breaks into her consciousness. She doesn't move at all, doesn't even flinch. She figures it's just a member of the squad again, attempting to check up on her, to make sure she's okay. She's not, she's far from it, and the knocking doesn't faze her. If she ignores them as usual, they'll eventually give up and leave.
They don't. The annoying rapping noise only increases and exacerbates the pounding in her head. Still she sits, unmoved by her unknown visitor. That's when she hears it. Her name. She must be going crazy, hearing things from her lack of sleep, her lack of nourishment. It just isn't possible.
"Olivia." It comes through the door again, sounding strangled. Surely this is not happening. And yet, she feels that pull, the force that had always been there. She's standing and walking to the door before she can stop herself. Her hand is on the doorknob, forehead resting against the wooden door. She knows if she opens the door and he isn't there, if her mind is playing tricks on her, she's going to go crazy. The pain of imagining him there will be too much on top of everything else.
The knocking has stopped and yet she lingers, still pressed against the door. She swears she can feel his presence on the other side of the wooden barrier. A few moments pass and she's almost ready to give up, to resume her place against the wall without opening the door, when it happens a third time. She hears her name, spoken so softly and sounding so broken, that it's barely a whisper when it reaches her ears. Her fingers curl around the doorknob and turn as she backs up a couple steps to allow the door to open. If she's hallucinating, it's strong, for her eyes take in his form for the first time in three years.
There he stands, no more than two feet in front of her. Surely she is dreaming, having fallen asleep from exhaustion. But, he appears so solid, so real, that she knows it has to be him. No words are spoken. They just take each other in. After three years, words can wait. They have much to say later, but in this moment all that matters is that he's here.
He steps forward and so does she and somehow Olivia ends up wrapped in his arms. "Elliot," she breathes, hugging him impossibly tightly for fear that when she opens her eyes he will be gone. He's holding her just as closely, pressing their bodies together and for the first time in days, weeks, years, the ache in her heart begins to lessen.