I don't need him. I don't need him. I don't want to need him. The thoughts raced through Olivia's head, but she knew she was fighting a losing battle. She wanted…needed to see her partner.

She thought about this as she washed the blood from her hands, shaky and feeling ill. Her thoughts jumbled together inside her brain as she remembered the events from the last few days. TV Crew. Alicia Harding. Elliot. Dead, frozen teenagers in the park. Elliot. Sonya. So much blood. Elliot. She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to focus on the case, on anything but the images of the scarlet splattered bathroom emblazoned into her brain and the fact that Sonya was gone. They had never been friends, there were times she even despised her…but they had come to a peaceful co-existence. And it didn't matter who or what or why…no one deserved to die like that. No one deserved to be so tragically and brutally murdered. Olivia had seen plenty of death…more than any ten people off of the street would ever see in all of their days. It didn't matter. Seeing someone that she'd known in life, talked with, worked with…it was something she would always carry with her.

She was still trying to sort out the mess of thoughts in her head when she saw him. She had the brief thought that she'd never been so grateful to see him as when she rounded that corner. Maybe it wasn't true. There had been several times in her life that she'd been just as grateful to see him. The day she had rounded the corner in the forensics lab and saw him strapped to a chair, bleeding, but very much alive. The day she had helped to bring little Eli into the world and fought alongside rescue workers to save his wife. The day she came back to work after being in Oregon. She could have listed many, many more events in her head, but in a matter of seconds, all of these thoughts were gone as she went into his arms. "I'm so glad you're back." She said, hating the way her voice sounded, needy. Needing him, needing to feel something, needing to know she wasn't alone in the world.

"I should've come back sooner." He answered, feeling her hair, her breath against his face. She felt the words he wasn't saying. It could have been you, Liv. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'm here now. I'll always have your back. The tears she had squelched before resurfaced, and she felt irritated and impatient with herself for not being in better control of her emotions.

She pulled back, touching her cheek to his for a brief second, assuring him that she was fine. He studied her, knowing the things she couldn't say, not even to him. She wasn't fine. Each case took a piece of her. He knew that she had changed; they both had changed. He knew that this was a necessary, vital part of their partnership and of the job. They had to adapt in order to survive the lives they had chosen. Although he understood this, he sometimes missed who they had been before.

In a matter of seconds, Olivia was back to business, thinking about the next step in the case. He watched as she walked away, taking a minute before catching up to her. She put on her brave face, but she would cry when she was alone. Those brief seconds she was willing to let her guard down for him never lasted very long.

He drove her back to the precinct, not willing to leave her side and not ready to let her drive. He had seen her hands tremble as she'd pulled her coat tighter around her and he knew it had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Fin had taken the other car, clumsily patting Olivia's hand and mumbling something about seeing them soon. His words from a few days previous reverberated around Elliot's head. "I'm better, because I watch her back and not just her backside." Elliot pondered this. Olivia was attractive, no doubt, but he was a man very much in love with his wife. Fin may not understand his bond with Olivia, but it was deeper than physical attraction, deeper than friendship…hell, even he didn't understand what it was. It just was.

Olivia, in the seat beside him, was still and silent and he found himself glancing in her direction far more often than usual. After several long moments of silence, she sucked in a deep breath and muttered, "I'm fine, El."

"Liv," He began, but she said the words again, forcefully, coming from somewhere deep inside of her soul and he knew that for the moment at least, the subject was closed. He let it go, but he worried. The last few months had not been kind to her. He had watched her grieve the loss of Calvin for weeks. She still missed the little boy. She had wanted to be his mother. To be somebody's mother…

He heard her draw a shaky breath, and he glanced at her again. She didn't even try to hide the lone tear that slowly trickled down her cheek. He didn't speak. Sometimes their partnership was beyond words. They felt these things together with one mind, one heartbeat, and these things did not need words. He had not been there when Sonya took her last breath. She had not been there when he had discovered O'Halloran bleeding on the floor. But the impact of these and others resonated deep within them, hung between them somewhere in the balance of who they were combined. They both felt it. It was inexplicable, but it was real. It was part of the glue that held their partnership together. He felt what she was feeling. With one hand on the wheel, he reached up with the other, affectionately squeezing her shoulder. He didn't speak, and she didn't move. The silence roared louder and faster inside the sedan until he had to say something, anything to break through it.

"Captain going to make you meet with Huang?" He knew the answer to this. It was a ridiculous question, really, but he needed to fill the void.

She nodded, finding her own voice to admit, "I haven't spoken to him, but I'm sure he will."

"Might be a good idea." His voice was light, belying the heaviness he felt inside. He took his hand off of her shoulder and placed it back on the wheel, turning the corner. He was wavering somewhere between feeling that this was the longest drive of his life and wishing he could stay in the car all night with her, if only to make sure that she was alright. The silence was killing him, reminding him that she was not alright.

"I…I'm not sure how much more of this I can take." She blurted suddenly, never moving her eyes in his direction. He waited, knowing she would spill when she was ready. She trusted him, trusted who she was when it was just the two of them together. He knew her as well as she knew herself.

She reminded herself to breathe, willed herself to not allow the tears to flow again, and continued. "What holds us to this job? What makes us come back?"

He mulled this over as he waited for her to say more. It was a discussion they'd had in the past. It always ended the same way. They couldn't just walk away. The reasons were piled up under the years of holding victim's hands, telling parents their child was not coming home, seeing their friends lying in pools of their own blood. They'd lasted years longer than most in the unit. They kept coming back because it was an everyday part of who they were. Brush their teeth, take a shower, be someone's hero…it was instinctive, as natural as breathing. Although there were many nights they lay awake trying to forget, there were also beautiful, unforgettable moments, and neither of them had ever been able to leave for long.

Some days the beauty in it was hard to remember. Elliot shook his head, vaguely wondering if Olivia was waiting for an answer. He glanced in her direction again, and the look on her face terrified him for reasons he could not explain.

"Olivia." He whispered. Her whole name, Olivia, not Liv…he rarely called her Olivia. The name rolled off of his lips, landed somewhere in the atmosphere between them, waiting…waiting…

It seemed like many moments went by before she shook her own head, whispering so low that he almost missed it, "Why should I come back tomorrow?"

He reached for her hand, then, needing to feel her, needing for her to feel him. He squeezed it gently, trying to get her to look at him, but her thoughts were far away and he suddenly missed her even though he was holding her hand. They were always in rhythm, always in sync, but what she had been through tonight was weighing so heavily on her that he was afraid of where her head was. He was afraid of her next move.

In the next second, she dropped her eyes to his hand, still clasped around her fingers, unchartered territory for them. He abruptly let go, bringing his hand back to the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He said quickly, and just like that, the moment was over. She snapped back into reality, focused on the task at hand. She was stoic, professional, and ready to work. The change came not a moment too soon, as they were pulling into the precinct. She pushed aside her feelings, her concerns, and her tears and prepared to work. She glanced back at Elliot just once as she walked into the building, making sure he was coming along. He was just a step behind her, their footsteps in sync as they tucked the pain and sadness aside for later so that they could do their job to the best of their abilities.

It was what made them who they were.