Call
Elliot doesn't know how it happens, how he's stupid enough to let her go to a suspect's house alone.
But when he gets the call over his radio, it's the last thing he expected, and he makes a mad dash for the door. Somehow, John beats him to it. By the time he's pulling out of the parking lot, he can guess that John's already halfway to the crime scene, half way to her. And when he flips his phone open to dial 911 as he weaves frantically through traffic, he knows the paramedics have already been called. By John.
And now Elliot knows for sure now that he cares, John Munch really cares, because when Elliot pulls up into the perps driveway and stumbles through the freshly kicked open front door, John's the one kneeling, putting pressure on her wound with one hand, and cradling her to his chest with the other, murmuring fearfully, "It's going to be okay, Liv. You're going to be okay."
He listens to his colleague repeat this to his half-unconscious partner over and over until the EMT's take her away. And as he watches a lone tear begin it's lazy trail down the older mans cheek from behind dark, worn in glasses, he feels like an outsider.
An intruder.