The silence in his head is too much…

It envelopes him and holds him in an iron clasp that sucks every breath from his rapidly expanding lungs.

He finds himself willing the lonely solitude away in return for the jumble of jubilant thoughts that once filled his head.

In the past eleven months he has lost more than he could ever imagine in his wildest nightmares.

He has lost: his friends, his family, his sanity his…Olivia.

Olivia Benson the domineering detective with the heart of a lion who put emotion devoid men behind bars for life without even batting an eyelash, the woman who has stood by him through every hardship, the woman whom he betrayed.

"El?"

His head whips in the direction of the light wispy soprano.

He tugs the heavy fleece of the comforter up to his chin. "What?" He grunts.

His wife detaches herself from the doorway t perch her small frame on the foot of the bed.

Anxiety pinches her small feminine features into worry filled empathy.

"What's going on with you?" she asks, slinking up the bed so that she can be closer to her husband.

Albeit reluctantly, he scoots over to make room for her.

"El?" Her annoying persistence reminds him of her presence.

He just shakes his head, unwilling to speak a word of his troubles to her. "You wouldn't understand." She couldn't.

"Well," she stays, burrowing her face into his sweatshirt clad chest. "I could try."

He chuckles ruefully and says, "If you knew what I was thinking, you'd be horrified."

She cocks a golden eyebrow and closes her eyes. "Well, then I guess we'll just sit."

He swallows thickly, wondering if she knew how badly he wished that he was holding his ex-partner in his embrace instead of his wife.

"Guess so."

"The moon is beautiful, this time of the night."

She lifts her head from his bare chest, her chestnut hair partially sticking to her face. "What the hell are you talking about?" she chuckles.

He laughs with her and wraps his arms tighter around her naked body. " I don't even know, I just looked up and saw how pretty the moon was."

"Uh, okay, you'd better be lucky that I love you," she says, planting a kiss to the edge of his chin.

He nods, willing himself to repeat her words but his mouth feels glued shut.

The tip of is tongue tingles, he wants to ask her so badly.

His face must have given something away because she looks up at him through her hood of thick eye lashes and smiles contemplatively.

"What?" She asks.

The moment that one word left her mouth her feels all of his courage furor upward and suddenly the words are spilling out of his mouth before he can stop them. "Who's Elliot?"

She gasp audibly but almost immediately afterward quashes the ticks and tremors that she feels desperately trying to escape. "Uh, where… did you hear that name?"

He swallows the emotional lump that is halting his speech and says, "You called it out just a couple of minutes ago."

Her mind is suddenly a mass of 'what if's' and 'how's'.

She finds no other way to cover her blunder except to deny it. "No I didn't" she whispers so imperceptibly that it is almost inaudible.

A maniacal chuckle escapes his throat. "Liv, please," he says pushing her off of his body. "Don't insult me by lying to me right now, we are getting married in eight months and I need to know right now if you are hiding something from me."

Her teeth clamp down tightly on her bottom lip until she taste blood.

Dying to catch her breath she sits upright and swivels her feet onto the dirty hardwood.

She grabs her blue NYPD shorts and T-shirt of the floor and quickly slips them on. "David," she whispers, walking to the bathroom. "You wouldn't understand."

When he speaks his voice is horse, gravely ….pleading. "I could try."

She shakes her head remorsefully. "If you knew what I was thinking I think that you would be horrified."

He nudges the air playfully with his humorous and says, "Liv, c'mon I've worked sex crimes I think that…."

His sentence is abruptly amputated when she turns to look at him.

Something about the way that her chocolate eyes glimmer, look as if she could be crying.

Her body hunches forward and she chokes on a sob. "David," she whispers. "I can't nor will I talk about this."

He runs his hands through her gel spiked hair. "Well, then I guess that we'll just sit, in silence."

She nods in approval and slides down the wall. "I guess we will."

A/N: So, what's are they togather? If you want the answers just do the litttle clicky thing and leave a comment ;D

A/N: Okay so first off, if you'd like to review one thing if you don't like me…then why are you reading my fucking stories. And two if you don't have the balls to sign in don't waste either of our time by reviewing.

People, If you are going to be petulant go to K not mature .

Anyway, now that you think I'm a bitch, sorry I had to go there.

This is not addressing everyone, just hater go on and hate but in your own personal monologue!

A/N2: Momentarily I don't really know where this story is going but I promise you it won't be all over the place like my other story 'Sex' *sighs* yea, I just lost a hold of that one. Hopefully this one will stay with me sorry for my relentless rambling I just have so much ADHD and make no effort to control it. So no, I'm not high. Just uber hyper.

Sorry for the shortness of this but its kinda of like a preface, prologue thingy.

Also, a review would be amazing as I mentioned before.