A/N: After hours of research for accuracy, writing, crying, and throwing things, this story is as best as I could get it. It's a two parter, and that's all it's going to be. Boom. Idea from my beautiful lovie corimariee on Tumblr! Go give her a follow, and blame all of this on her. ;) Thank you for those who waited patiently for the last few days on Tumblr for this story. (I'm oliviatlantis, in case some of you guys want to come yell at me. Let's be EO shippin' miserable friends.) Thank you to my beta for catching all my mistakes that my computer missed! I hope this was worth waiting for.
It's Friday evening, and he's sitting as his desk with a mountain of paperwork in front of him. Detective Amaro runs his hand down his face and groans. The empty desk across from him irritates him. His partner left on Wednesday morning, and he hasn't heard from her since. It's unlike her to take a sick day, or even admit she's sick, so she must've been really feeling it. His desk phone rings.
"Detective Amaro," he answers automatically.
"Where's your cell?" his partner rasps from the other end of the phone. She sounds awful. After days at home she should be feeling better, not worse, and his concern rises immediately.
"In my locker," he answers quickly. "You okay, Liv?"
He hears her put her hand over the phone and she's coughing.
"I was actually wondering if you could take me to the hospital," Nick swears. Olivia audibly winces, and tries to continue, but falters. She coughs quietly and whimpers.
"Liv," his panic ebbs at him. He stands immediately up out of his chair, grabbing his coat.
"Nick, calm down, okay? I'm fine. Just need a ride."
"I'm on my way," he assures her and sets his phone back down on the hook. He throws his coat over his shoulders and heads toward his captain's office.
"Cap," he stands at the doorway into Cragen's office, his hands on the doorframe.
"What's goin' on?" Cragen looks up from his papers in front of him.
"I gotta take Liv to the hospital," he notifies. Cragen's eyes widen and he raises his eyebrows.
"She okay?" He asks, wholly concerned. "That's not like her. Go ahead, and keep me informed." Cragen points his pen at Nick and locks eyes with him.
"Yeah, I know," he agrees. "I'll call you."
Olivia sits up on her couch, her right forearm pressed into her chest as her hand grips her left shoulder. She tries to cough again, and the immediate following after sends shooting pains into her chest, and bites her lower lip, squeezing her eyes shut. She needs to clear her throat of the crap, but it's excruciating.
She's never been sick like this. She's had colds over the years, but none compare to this kind of congestion, and these kinds of pains. She can't take in a deep breath to calm herself, and she's it frustrates her.
Her head falls back to the cushion on her couch, and she takes in short, staccato breaths just to keep breathing without feeling like her chest is being torn open.
Two pounding knocks on her door have her head raising back up, and she's aching. All over. Olivia brings herself to her feet, and shuffles to the door. Exhaustion pushes down on the top of her head, and she wants to drop back on to the couch.
She lets Nick in and he shuts the door behind him. Olivia grabs her coat off of the rack beside him and gives him a half smile and an apology with her eyes. She struggles to put her arms into it, and doesn't even bother to button it.
"You look bad," he shakes his head and looks her over as she's trying to regulate her breathing and slip her shoes on.
"Thanks," she chuckles.
"How long you been struggling like that?" He's watching her shove her heel into her shoe. He bends down, and pulls the back of it out for her, and it slides on easier.
"All day," she admits. "Sorry for making you come play taxi. I would've driven, but I don't think I can."
Nick reaches out for the door and opens it for her while she grabs her purse from the countertop.
"It's okay, I was headed out soon anyway," he acknowledges. "Let's go."
Nick rests his hand on her back, and they walk from her apartment.
Olivia sits in the passenger seat of Nick's Jeep. Her breathing is rapid, and he's watching her from the corner of his eye. Her hands are resting in her lap, her face is pinching up. She's showing that she's struggling, and he knows it's against her own volition. If she could help it, she would be. Her chest is jumping slightly with the coughs that she's not letting out.
"You havin' problems breathing?" he presses. Her head lolls as they hit a slight bump, and she looks at him with a pained expression.
She nods and pushes her eyebrows together. "I'm not dying, but my chest is about killin' me," Olivia affirms.
"And you don't see a doctor?" Nick inquires. "You should'a done that as soon as you felt sick, Liv."
She glares at him and adjusts her position. "I thought it was a head cold."
Her arm crosses over her chest by reflex, and her other hand forms a fist to cover her mouth, and she leans her body forward. A wracking choking noise expels from her body, and it's horrible sounding. He hears the phlegm crawl up her throat and fill her mouth. Nick rolls down the automatic passenger window from his side, and pushes the gas a little harder. Olivia stays hunched forward, holding her arm to her before she leans and spits out the window.
Her hand rests on her chest as she rolls the window back up. Nick shoots her a panicked look and she frowns. He's speeding, and overreacting. Her head shakes, and she tries to maintain her quick-breathing so she doesn't have to gasp for air deep into her lungs.
"I'm fine," she tries to reassure him. "Just drive." Olivia makes a motion with her hand forward.
Olivia and Nick walked into the emergency room to the front desk.
"What can I help you with?" the tired looking woman responds to the detectives' presence.
"Detective Amaro," Nick flashes his shield. "This is my partner Detective Benson."
"I'm having some problems breathing," Olivia explains with her hands. "Sharp pains in my chest. I've been sick for a few days."
"Okay," the receptionist hands Olivia a file with papers inside. "You can wait in exam room three, around that hallway, it's the second door on your left, and fill out these papers. Someone will be with you shortly."
"Thanks," Nick nods and turns with Olivia. She coughed the entire ride to the hospital, and she's paling over the last few minutes.
"You, uh," Nick gestures to the hallway with the exam rooms. "you good? Anyone I can call?"
"No, no," she sighs. "Do you mind," she pauses. "You don't have to stay, but I," she presses her lips into a line. She flattens her hand against her face and shakes her head. "I hate hospitals." Olivia tries to laugh, but it causes another coughing fit.
Nick watches her, helplessly. He knows she hates hospitals. His hand squeezes her opposite shoulder and he waits for the attack to subside.
"Sure," he nods. "I don't got anywhere to be. And I could use the hazard pay," he jokes.
"Gee, thanks," Olivia chuckles and walks in the direction of the hallway with the exam rooms.
Pneumonia, pleurisy. Nick sits in Olivia's hospital room, where they admitted her two hours ago. She's sleeping. They'd given her antibiotics and she's hooked up to oxygen, because her levels were far from what they should've been. She was livid. She made it clear she didn't want to have to stay overnight, but the doctors insisted.
"Snot slingin' bitch," Olivia mumbled about twenty minutes ago. Nick laughed. She was referring to the woman they brought in over a week ago. She was arrested, and during interrogation, Olivia had gotten close to her face, and the woman had been coughing the entire morning.
He gets it. She's frustrated. She hates hospitals, and she hates relying on other people. More than anything, she hates being vulnerable in any circumstance, and this is definitely one of them. Luckily, the medication helped her slip under.
His phone vibrates in his jacket pocket.
"Amaro," he answers quietly, standing up to walk from Olivia's room.
"Nick," his captain's voice fills their ears. "How's Liv?"
Nick closes the door as quietly as possible behind him and walks out into the hallway. "Pretty rough. She's got pneumonia, and they admitted her because she's got pleurisy underneath, and it's beatin' her up pretty good. She's been sleepin' for the last fifteen." He relays everything he can remember.
"Well now that she's asleep, I need you here. We got an Amber alert out on a missing girl, she's 4."
Nick sighs into the phone and looks back at his partner's hospital door, "I'll be there soon." he offers and ends the call.
He hears Olivia start coughing, and something falls. He hurriedly opens her door. She's sitting in an upright position, her oxygen unhooked on one side. She clutches at her chest, and her hand fumbles for the container on the roll-away stand.
She grabs at it picking up a cold, wet rag, and she coughs the heavy matter from her lungs and throat. Nick walks over and picks up the box of tissues from the floor, and her cell phone. The coughing rips through her, and he puts his hand on her back until she settles.
Olivia throws the rag back in the container, and rips the oxygen off of her nose to readjust it.
"Cragen called. There's an Amber alert out for a 4 year old girl, and they're calling in everyone they can," Nick tells her begrudgingly.
"Okay," she nods. "Keep me updated on it."
"You need anything before I go?" he pushes. Olivia still hasn't resumed her regular breathing, and he's eying her suspiciously.
"Grab a nurse out there," she suggests. "Thanks for staying with me, Nick."
"What are partners for? Get some rest." Nick smiles and pats her leg on the end of the bed. She smiles in return, and he walks from her room.
He makes his way to the nurse's station and the woman smiles. "She okay?" He likes this nurse. Cori. She'd been checking up on Olivia every half hour, and acted very kindly to her, despite Olivia's stubborn attitude.
"She wanted me to get one of you. She was just coughing a lot, and looking a little off."
"All right. Do we have a number to reach you?" the nurse asks, as she steps out from behind the desk.
"My number?" Nick asks. A beeping sound interrupts the nurse before she can respond. The nurse looks back at the screen, and walks quickly to Olivia's room. Nick follows behind her, closely.
"Miss Benson?" Cori questions as she walks into her room. Olivia is sitting up with her forehead tight, and her eyes pinched shut. Her arm is once again across her chest, and she is clutching at her shoulder.
"Are you feeling some discomfort?"
Olivia nods and her hair falls forward. "My shoulder," she grates. Cori comes to Olivia's left side and puts her stethoscope to her ears, and on Olivia's back.
"Can you try to breathe in for me?" she requests. Olivia's chest rises halfway and she winces. Cori nods, as Olivia tries to inhale several more times.
"Okay, Olivia. We're going to get you down for a chest x-ray. It sounds like there's air where there shouldn't be." She moves to walk out of the room. "I'll be right back,"
Olivia shoots Nick a worried look, and he softens his expression.
"Don't think ahead, Liv," he advises her softly. He watches her teeth start chattering behind her closed lips, and her eyes dart down. She breathes in and out in tiny puffs of air, but doesn't otherwise move. He takes a step toward his partner. "Hey, Liv," he shakes his head.
"Go ahead. I'll call you when I'm outta there," she cuts off in a small voice. Her head lies back against her pillow.
Cori comes back in the room with another nurse and a wheelchair. Nick nods once, and walks from her room.
Olivia is lying uncomfortably back in her hospital room, and it's ten till midnight. The chest tube under her arm is excruciatingly painful, and her head tilts to the side, quietly, tears drip down her cheek and onto the pillow. Her teeth are chattering. It hurts. The tube is thick, bendable plastic, about an inch in circumference.
She's scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning at 8, and it's going to put her out of commission for at least six weeks. Six weeks.
Her lung is 60 percent collapsed, and there's thinning tissue that needs fixed. They have to break a rib. She has to be on respirator for the operation.
They'd taken her off the nose oxygen, and traded it for a mask. The green elastic bands on the side of her face irritate her. It feels unnecessary. She's never been so uncomfortable in her life. She reaches over weakly for her cell phone, and turns on the screen.
Olivia taps on her captain's number, and puts the phone to her ear. She flicks the finger monitor off of her hand, and holds her cell easier.
"Liv," her captain answers. "How'ya feelin'?
Olivia sighs slightly and oxygen sprays into her mouth and nose. "I've had better days," she clears her throat. "I gotta take medical leave. Surgery tomorrow. I'll be out for four to six weeks."
"Jesus," he sighs. "You got anyone there?"
"A good nurse," she answers. "Any progress finding the girl?"
"No, not yet. We got Brooklyn SVU working with us. Need all the manpower we can get our hands on."
"Well, I could—"
"No, you couldn't. You're not on this, Liv. We got it covered. You focus on getting better," Cragen reassures her. She hears a door open in the background, and his hand covers the phone, muffling the voices.
"I gotta go. You call if you need somethin', you hear?" her captain insists quickly.
"Yeah," she offers, and ends the call. She drops her phone beside her, and rehooks the monitor to her finger.
Her IV pulls at her arm, and her nurse walks in.
"Olivia," Cori smiles and pulls the curtain back. She walks over to the monitor and looks back down at Olivia's hand. "I'm gonna need you to keep that on, okay?"
She pulls some of Olivia's chest tube up, and tilts it. The blood travels down it, and into the collection. Liv turns her head away from the sight of it.
"What's your pain level on a scale of one to ten?" Cori questions, writing down Olivia's fluid levels.
"Eight," she admits, her voice crackling. "Is this totally necessary? I won't be able to sleep with this," Olivia motions her hand to her face where the oxygen mask covers her mouth and nose.
"I'm sorry, I can't give you the other one right now. This is what's going to help you the best," Cori places her hand on Olivia's arm and gives her a sympathetic smile. "I'm gonna grab another drip for you, I'll be right back."
Olivia nods, but otherwise ignores her and closes her eyes. She listens when the nurse pulls the curtain, and opens the door.
"Oh," Cori startles. "Excuse me, detective."
"Sorry," Nick's voice says in a hushed tone. "She doin' okay?"
Olivia hurts. She quickly wipes her eyes, and lifts her oxygen mask to wipe the back of her hand across her nose.
"She's stable," the nurse assures him. "She's got quite a bit of pain, and we put in a chest tube a few hours ago. She's has a partial collapse of the left lung. They're going to go in and repair it tomorrow. Very routine. Nothing too serious."
Olivia hears Nick let out a loud breath. "Okay, thanks."
Two sounds of footsteps move, and the heavier toward her. She wants to sit up, make conversation, but she's exhausted, and in decent amount of pain, so she stays leaned over.
Her hair is splayed over her right shoulder and arm. Nick opens the curtain and stands at the end of her bed.
"Hey, partner," he pats her foot. "Heard you popped a lung." He sits on the chair beside her bed.
"Your fault. You made me yell at you last week," she tiredly teases him. "We're not even until I put you in the hospital."
Nick chuckles and rubs his hand on his lips. "I uh, you know, if you need anything," he trails off into silence.
Olivia nods and tries to move to a more comfortable position, whimpering with the attempt. She feels the tube slightly tug, and she groans, closing her eyes. Nick's hand reaches out and squeezes hers.
"What do you need?" He asks, panic dripping into his voice. Olivia feels an uncomfortable feeling building in her chest, and she reaches for the pillow they'd given her to push into her torso. She shakes her head, and pulls the oxygen mask off her face, clutching the lung shaped pillow, and pulling one of her knees toward her chest. Her hand grabs a rag from the stand, and she weakly releases air and phlegm. Nick is standing above her, worriedly. She coughs as softly as she can, the searing pain shooting through her shoulder and lungs. Olivia bites the rag, and groans. Her partner bows his head, shaking it.
"Liv, there's gotta be someone I can call," he whispers. "I gotta go back out on the field in ten. Anyone?" Nick kneels in front of her.
She leans back again, and puts her leg flat against the mattress again. She tosses the rag into the plastic bin.
"No," she mouths, squinting her eyes. "Don't worry about it. It looks worse than it actually is," she reaches for the oxygen mask and tries to secure it around her face.
Her head leans back into the pillow, and Cori returns with an IV bag, and a plastic cup.
Nick steps aside from her, and the nurse writes down Olivia's stats.
She's alone. He's watching her look like she's dying, and she's sleeping here by herself. The woman who's been his mentor for three years, and his friend. She's fragile, and in pain in front of him, and there's nothing he can do.
"I'm gonna give you a sedative, okay?" the nurse hands a small white pill to Olivia, and her water cup, and turns to replace the bag of fluids hanging on the IV rack. "You should be a lot more comfortable in a few minutes."
Olivia nods and puts the water back down, resting her face in her pillow.
"Nick, go. I'm good," her voice sounds covered through the oxygen mask. "Thanks for checking up on me. Let me know if you find her." She's slurring, and the medication is already taking effect. A little of the tension in his shoulders is easing; especially when she closes her eyes, and he watches her eyebrows relax.
The nurse motions to him, for them both to leave the room and allow her rest that she has yet to have.
Nick motions for her to move first, and he slides Olivia's phone into his hand, undetected.
He's nervous. He feels the overwhelming urge to hit something to take the tension from his body. The other man had said he was on his way, and they'd meet in the emergency room.
Nick stares at the clock, and it's been twenty minutes.
He's about to stand up, to go back upstairs to the wing Olivia is in, when a voice calls in his direction.
"Amaro?" the thick Brooklyn accent questions. Nick raises his head up, and walks forward to meet the man with a handshake.
"Yeah. Stabler?" he asks to confirm, when their hands meet.
"Yeah," Elliot clears his throat and his hand rubs his jaw. He chews on the inside of his cheek, clearly uncomfortable. "Where's she at?"
"Fourth floor. 322." Nick scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip. He hands Olivia's phone to Elliot, and nods. "It was on her table."
Elliot nods and reaches for Nick's hand again. "Be safe out there." He offers. The men lock eyes and nod again, and part ways.
He's been sitting in this room for an hour. The nurse had protested, demanded to see his credentials. But she glared at him through squinted eyes, and let him into her room.
He wanted to punch the windows out, punch a wall, wake her up. Apologize a thousand times over. Holler at the top of his lungs, because he knows. He knows she didn't take care of herself like she should've been, and it's infuriating.
Elliot sighs heavily, swiping his hand over his face. "God dammit, Olivia," he whispers, clenching his hands on his knees.
She stirs quietly, and he sees a tear slip from her closed eye, and he glances at the monitor. Her heart is picking up slightly, and she groggily runs her fingers through her hair.
Olivia whimpers so softly, he can barely hear it, and her intake of breath is shaky. She wipes her cheek.
"I know you're in here," Olivia speaks steadily through the oxygen. She's lying on her right side, but in the dark and the angle he's at, she won't be able to see him at all. "Nick call you?"
His body reacts on instinct, on pattern. He pushes himself off the arm chair and stands. "Yeah," Elliot grates. Her eyes are closed as he moves. He knows she hears him walking around her bed.
And he's in front of her. He's standing over her, and her sleepy eyes lift to his. She does not cry. Other than the tear he saw a moment ago, she is composed. Her hair is wavy and sprawled onto the pillow, her shoulder, her arm, and she's not shaking. Not anymore.
Elliot kneels down in front of her, his knees making a cracking noise. The relief of him being near her is so visceral, that she reaches for him. Her hand lands on his shoulder, and she grips the leather of his jacket, bunching it in her fingers. His breathing speeds immediately, and she thinks that's wrong because her body is so sickeningly content. She's drowsy with relief, and an absence of pain, that she forgets she's in a hospital and why.
His hand reaches to his shoulder, and covers hers.
Olivia breathes in heavily, and deeply, without thinking, and rips her hand from him, cries out in pain, from the stabbing in her chest. She breaths short, rapid, small breaths, and squeezes her eyes shut to regulate herself.
Elliot panics. He shoves her rolling table away, and she leans forward, her arm around the pink, stiff pillow, clutching it tightly to herself.
"What, Liv? What can I do? Do you need a nurse?" he stands quickly and is about to head for the door.
"Elliot, no," she flinches at the sound of his voice on her lips, her tongue. "No, it's okay," she looks up at him, and nods her head, reassuring him.
He's big. She didn't remember how broad his shoulders were. How intensely strong he looks. He's twice Nick's size, and it hurts her deep in her gut. She'd forgotten him. She tried so hard not to forget him, and she had.
He is breathing hard, and one of his hands is rubbing his temples, and he lowers himself back down in front of her.
"Jesus Christ," he growls almost indiscernible. His voice rolls around in her ears, and he's still as intense as ever. Her constant feeling of homesickness finds its definition, and she curls her fingers into the palm of her hand.
"So if I'm nearly dyin', you come see me," she smiles so small, she's not sure if she meant to. He whips his eyes to hers. The color drains from his face, and his eyes darken. She puts her hand flat on her bed, and raises her head up slightly. Her attempt at a joke falls on deaf ears. "I was kidding," she whispers. Her heart flutters in anxiety, and she needs painkillers. The aches are returning.
"I know," he grunts, keeping his eyes on hers. Olivia's eyes are filling a little, and her jaw is trembling beneath the plastic on her face.
His hand slides into her hair, and he tangles it in between his fingers. She moans quietly, and he rests his forehead against hers.
Her hand reaches out, and she grips his coat as tightly as she can, and her chest rises and falls a little faster. He gently tightens her hair in his grip. "El," she whimpers. He hears her teeth chattering.
"I'm here," his throat is thick, his accent dark, heavy. She nods slightly against his forehead.
