Scars
The bedside lamp was on as she was quietly reading her book, she was flipping through the pages absentmindedly, as it was her favorite book. Victor Hugo was partly the reason she had always wanted to visit Paris, though a lot of places he describes in „Les Miserables" are now long gone. Olivia was fascinated by the way all stories come together and how Cosette managed to maintain her innocence and even Javert managed to win her sympathy. A true masterpiece in her opinion and even Elliot promised to read it once he has time, or watch a movie.
She put the book down and decided to call it a night. She heard the door unlocking and someone entering her apartment – her hand instantly flew to her gun on the bedside table, but when the intruder identified himself, she relaxed – Elliot.
He showed himself a moment later, standing at the bedroom doorway.
"What a day. I'm so tired," he said exhaling deeply.
"Yeah," Olivia agreed. "What happened to your face?" she asked, referring to a nasty cut on his cheek, surrounded by red spot.
"Oh, it's nothing. Perp thought he could escape the punishment if he just takes me down," Elliot explained, running his fingers over the cut.
Olivia winced a little and looked at him compassionately.
"I missed you at the precinct earlier," he said, stretching out his hands, holding the doorframe.
"Cragen sent me home, wouldn't take no for answer," Olivia said simply.
They had their perp and Elliot was interrogating him, while Olivia finished her DD-5 as Casey wanted that as well as the defense attorney. When she turned it over to Cragen, he saw right through her exhaustion and sent her home, knowing well enough that she had pulled an all-nighter previous night and barely slept the night before. Some would call it insanity, she calls it dedication. That's how she ended up with a free night, while Elliot had the chance to get their confession out of yet another perp.
"For once I think he did the right thing, though I thought you'd use the time to catch up on some sleep," Elliot said, glad, that Olivia wasn't there to hear the confession.
"Guess I wasn't that tired," Olivia said with a shrug.
"Go figure," he chuckled.
"So, did you get your confession?" Olivia asked, unable to tune off work.
"Yeah, he gave everything up, even all the victims we didn't know about, but I don't wanna talk about work anymore," he said with a heavy sigh.
"Agreed," Olivia replied.
Elliot finally moved from the doorway and sat down by her side at the edge of the bed, leaning on his hand on the other side of Olivia, trapping her in a way. He leaned down to press his lips to hers, savoring the feeling as if she was going to disappear.
They broke apart, but maintained the close contact, as Elliot put his head on her chest and wrapped his arms around her. She caressed his short hair lazily, content with the current situation.
"Next time you leave without me, let me know, so I don't have to worry about you disappearing or anything. I can focus much better, when I know that you are safe," he said, having all kinds of thoughts running through his head, when he realized, that she was no longer sitting behind her desk and apparently he had no idea where she was.
"I promise, next time I will. I would have told you, but didn't want to pull you out of interrogation, Cragen informed me of the progress you were making," Olivia said, giving him her reason.
Elliot mumbled into her shirt, closing his eyes. He felt his eyelids getting heavier by the second, but he didn't want to move.
"El?" she asked finally.
Elliot just mumbled something again, shaking his head.
"As much I love you here, you need to brush your teeth and change. We'll both regret falling asleep like this," Olivia said softly.
"Mhm, I'm going," he said, but made no attempt to get up, Olivia was way too comfortable to leave, ever.
She nudged him with her shoulder, shoving him with more force as he didn't respond.
"I'm going, relax," he said finally. He kissed the valley of her breast through her white cotton shirt and got up.
He kept on looking at his reflection through the mirror as he brushed his teeth. His eyes focused on the cut on his cheekbone. He failed to tell Olivia, the whole story, but he knew it was better that way, still he couldn't get those events out of his head.
"You're partner's hot, I'd totally bang her if she wasn't so damaged, you know. The way she talked to the sweet Melanie, I could tell she wasn't lying. It's just a matter of time before she ends up like her, you know, banging some old fart from the office and violates that soft tanned skin of hers. It's such a pity," Colin, the perp, kept on talking.
"Don't talk about her like this," Elliot hissed.
"Oh, now I hit a nerve, detective, so if you are the old fart, she's banging I wouldn't blame you. She does have nice ass and those breasts…" he started, but was cut off by Elliot's fist colliding with his face.
What went down next happened too fast for Cragen and Munch to respond from the other side of the interrogation room window, because Elliot and their perp Colin Mason were trying to beat each other into oblivion.
They did ran into the room and separated these two, but not before it was too late. Elliot got ice pack on his fist and doctor examined his wound, while Munch got the confession.
Elliot left the bathroom, coming back to the bedroom and closing the door after him.
Absentmindedly he took off his clothes, still running the events of their case through his mind. Their assault victim tried to commit suicide, but they had Olivia to calm her down. It was not the case that was that much in his mind, but what Olivia had said.
Clad in his boxers, he climbed to the bed. Olivia rolled to turn off the bedside lamp, but he grabbed her hand, stopping her. She turned her eyes to him with curiosity. Elliot stayed silent for a minute, avoiding her look, preparing himself mentally for answers she'll give.
"About the things you said to Melanie today…" he started weakly.
Olivia had a pained expression on her face – of course he will bring it up.
"Yes?" she asked, waiting for a question.
"Is it true?" he asked bluntly.
"El, you know me better than that, I wouldn't lie to a victim," she replied as if it was obvious and he knew it. She could lie to the perp, but not to the victim.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
"Never came up," she replied vaguely.
"Liv…" he said quietly.
He took her hand gently and traced the soft skin with his fingers, feeling the faded scars along the way. Never before had he asked and she didn't tell. He always figured she had a wild childhood and if it was serious, she'd tell.
"When did it start?" he asked.
"I was 15 or maybe 16, it was long time ago, so I don't really remember," she said honestly.
"After your mother told you about your father?" he asked, even though it was more of a statement than a question.
Olivia nod nevertheless.
"Have you told anyone before?" he asked, moving his hand up on hers, lifting her sleeve and finding more scars, some still pink.
Olivia simply shook her head.
"Why? You could have found help," he reasoned.
"El, it's not a thing I'd regularly advertise," Olivia argued.
"I know this is difficult, Liv, but hiding it won't make things go away. To really deal with everything that has happened and that drove you to hurt yourself, you need to face your problems," Elliot said softly.
"I wasn't that much hiding, I just didn't tell anyone, because after that people start treating differently. Just like you are," Olivia explained.
"Liv, I'm just concerned," Elliot said honestly.
"I'm not suicidal, never have been, so you can stop treating me like a victim," Olivia was firm.
"I'm not treating you any different and people, who are hurting themselves, are considered to be at suicidal risk, it's a small step onwards," Elliot protested.
Olivia brushed his hand off from her shoulder and took a moment to breathe.
"Elliot, I'm gonna give you a quick tour to cutting. I think that there are 3 types of people, who pick up the knife or razor or anything else sharp enough. First type are attention seekers, they probably cut at their forearms, probably not even near veins, because it is a more painful and not that visible, but back of the hand is, plus drawing blood hurts the less. Then there are suicidal people, who attempt to cut their veins, they probably know where to cut and how to cut. These people need to be on suicidal watch and considered danger," Olivia said, pointing on different locations on her arm as she explained, coming across scars along the way.
Elliot stayed silent, waiting for her to go on and watching her movements, wondering how many scars she really has.
"And the final type are people, who feel numb all the time and cutting allows them to feel anything or then they feel angry or depressed all the time and want to feel anything else. They usually start with forearms, but after awhile it's not enough, so they move to other sensitive spots, most commonly to lower abdomen, as there is sensitive skin. As they gain experience, they avoid forearms, as this is most visible place and they don't like to be asked questions," Olivia ended her explanations.
Elliot slowly moved his hands to the hem of her shirt and lifted it, moving his hands to her abdomen, where most of her scars were located. To his great surprise, she didn't protest or push his hand away again.
"Liv, I'm so sorry you had to go through it all," Elliot said sincerely, wincing every time his fingers found another scar.
"Yeah, well, it is what it is. Can't take it back and if I could, I'm not sure that I would. You heard, what you wanted to hear, it's up to you how you deal with this information. If you want to go, I don't blame you, but I'm going to sleep now," Olivia said, ending the conversation as she felt tears in her eyes and she was not about to cry in front of him.
She turned off the bedside lamp, scooted on the bed, successfully getting rid of his hand on her abdomen. She pulled her shirt down and rolled to her ride with her back towards Elliot.
"When was the last time you hurt yourself?" Elliot asked, refusing to let the topic slide.
"It's been months. Not since you ended up in my bed," she answered with a wince, knowing she doesn't want to hear his response.
"It has happened, while we were working together and I missed it?" Elliot asked, though the question was directed more to him than to her.
Olivia shifted uncomfortably. She should have decided to avoid the subject all along.
"It's not about you," Olivia said bluntly.
"No, it's not," he agreed. "But you are part of my life and everything about you becomes my responsibility. I'm not running from this. I'll be by your side, whatever you need."
She responded with a quiet thanks and "I love you", allowing herself to relax a little. He came close to her, tugging on her shoulder gently until she rolled over again. Elliot pressed a kiss to her forehead, and pulled her against him. He wrapped his hands around her, promising himself never to let her go.
"Liv, I mean it. I'll be here for you. If you have a bad day or something hits little too close to home, don't go to razors, come to me. I don't want to see you in pain, I want to see you happy. I wanna be there, when you feel the need to cry or if you wanna smash something or whatever you need. I'm not running," he whispered gently.
He felt Olivia shaking lightly against his chest and her tears landing on his bare chest. Elliot let his hands run circles on her back, comforting her. Knowing her, she didn't want so approximate contact, she wanted to be left alone to deal with her demons, but now more than ever he was not willing to let her go. He wanted her to learn to trust him with her demons, she was no longer alone and he was there to help her with whatever she needs, because she probably didn't know it, but she has been his rock for a long time. She has made him a better person over a long time by just being there and refusing to let him bury himself. She has been his savior and now it's his turn to return the favor. He could only wish that she'd let him in and let him really be there for her.
"Shh, it's okay. I'm here. It's okay," he kept on whispering as she cried.
Her sobs quieted down soon after, followed by evened out breathing as she let dreams claim her.
She opened her eyes
And found relief in His life
And put down her knives
Between the trees – "The Way She Feels"