Memories

a/n Thank you to April and Gena for checking out the story and helping to fix it.

Olivia's POV

I heard a knocking on my door. It had to be Elliot. Who else on this earth would care that I had just captured the asshole that had been abusing his sweet little girl for years, yet had left in a hurry so no one could see my tears. Elliot saw them, he's the only one who really knows me, knows my past. But even he doesn't know the intimate details.

"Olivia, let me in! Come on Liv, let me be there for you." He knew better than to say the word help. I always insist I can do things alone, as I always have, but with Elliot there to lean on, I can do them so much better.

"Don't break my door down." I said as I let him in finally, then turning around to sit on the sofa in the living room. "Geesh, the way you're carrying on, you'd think I was about ready to blow something up. I'm a big girl El, I'm not going to harm myself or anyone else."

Elliot walked over to me on the couch. "Liv, I know you can handle whatever comes your way, but do you want to talk about it?"

Talk about it? No, I didn't want to talk about it. I never wanted to talk about it, but somehow I always found myself pouring out my soul to Elliot. "Fine," I sighed letting him keep the hand on my knee that he had just placed there. "Once again, things just hit too close to home. You'd think it wouldn't be any big deal, I mean, that's why I joined this squad, to right the wrongs that have been done to my mother and me, to change the world for the better and heal at the same time. Instead, each case seems to tear the wounds back open and shove the knife right back in."

My partner stared at me for a few seconds before asking me his next question, the one thing I didn't want him to ask. "What about this case reminded you about your past?"

"Other than everything, El, I've been through it all! I know how that little girl felt when she was running from her father who was chasing her with a knife. My mother did that to me. She ran around the apartment screaming at me that I was a bitch, and didn't deserve the oxygen I was breathing. I remember another time, her yelling at me about some stupid thing, and me and my big mouth calling her a slut. Right after those words left my mouth, I saw something in her eyes that I don't think I have ever seen before. It was pure anger. Anger so deep, I was afraid for my life for the first time ever. I mean, she's hurt me before, but this time I don't think I could honestly say it was the alcohol that was to blame. I had hit a nerve so deep, and when she came at me with that look in her eyes, I was sure it was the end for me. I screamed for her to leave, to just go away, and to my astonishment, she did. This poor eight-year-old girl knows exactly what I went through. But she is so much stronger than I was. She told someone finally. She broke the silence of all that pain and torture and came to us for help. We were able to take care of things, so that she wouldn't have to ever suffer like that again. Maybe she can heal faster, and move on with her life." Wow, I didn't know I could say all that in one breath. It was certainly a lot more than I had planned on releasing.

I began sobbing and Elliot took me into his arms and held me until no more tears could fall. I had cried for all the times my mother hurt me, and I had never told anyone. All of the times I had hid in my room, terrified she was going to come in and start something. I had spent most of my childhood hiding. When I wasn't opening my all too big mouth that is. I can't count the number of times I said something that just egged her on. But it was the silent times that bothered me even more. Would it have ended for me too, had I said something? Very rarely did I have a bruise that couldn't be covered up and hidden. No one ever had a clue that something had happened to me, so I was never put into a position to betray my mother.

Elliot finally broke the silence. "Liv, there is a big difference between telling someone that they should seek help immediately if something bad is happening to them, and being the one in that position. You loved your mother despite everything she had put you through. She was transferring her hatred of what had been done to her, to you, the most innocent of it all."

"Since when did you become a psychologist? Been hanging around Huang a little too long?" I laughed in spite of myself.

"Sometimes I think so." He chuckled. "Maybe you should write about it? Even if it's just something for your eyes only, it might help to get these feelings out on paper. Doesn't even have to be a 'true' story either. You can write a fictional story about someone that goes through what you have, and how they felt."

I looked at Elliot strangely but then realized that it definitely couldn't hurt anything. I walked over to my desk and grabbed my laptop. My thoughts flowed through my fingertips like a rushing river, not being able to stop. Finally I was finished. Poor Elliot had fallen asleep and I realized I had been writing for three hours straight. Wow, I hadn't expected that! I put a blanket over Elliot and wandered into the kitchen. Elliot would be hungry when he woke up, plus, he had a lot of reading to do.