Talk to the Wolf man if you'd like them to be mine. XD
She got him. She got him.
There must be something for her to do now because Sonya got him. DNA in the hair. Melinda will process it at the lab. Wait for a match, hope he's in the system… wait, hope…
Olivia can't wait. And she certainly can't hope.
She needs to do something. Put this to rest. There are too many ghosts in her head already to add another one now. She has to wash this blood off her hands. She has to get out of this bathroom. She has to get this out of her head.
The walls spin around her and she stumbles, disoriented. She can't see straight as she turns the corner of the hallway and then the sound of his steps breaks through the fog.
Their eyes meet and he runs to her. She doesn't mean to say anything. These moments between them defy language. But the words slip past her mouth without warning, without thought, the unintentional purest truth. "I'm really glad you're back."
She's held back too many tears so her voice cracks – betraying her neediness – and yet she doesn't care. She doesn't care because his arms encircle her and her face is in his neck. And suddenly he is all she knows.
The world stills. The noise stops. Her feet find the ground. The skin of her body that she didn't even know had become numb now ignites beneath his touch and comes alive. She feels the beat of his heart push against her ribs until it finds the beat of her own, echoes it, and then matches its frantic pace. She is no longer an empty shell; no longer alone.
He is her center.
"I should've come back sooner." Elliot says, but she doesn't hear him. The admission comes to her through his voice box; the vibrations that travel across their interconnected skin. It's what he says, but not what he means. And she hears that too. I should've been here. It could have been you. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'm sorry I wasn't faster but I'm here now. I'll always have your back, Liv.
Back. Yes, sooner. Or better yet, never gone at all. She can't focus when he's gone. A piece of her soul is missing. There's just this part of the world that only makes sense when they're together.
But she doesn't tell him that. His fingers dig a little deeper into her back. She doesn't need to tell him. He already knows.
She presses her cheek up to his cheek, so desperate just to keep this connection alive. It is the only thing that makes sense in her life anymore. And yet, it's just another thing that fuels her confusion, because he's her partner, and he's married.
The thought makes her stop short. And then she almost cries because just like that, the moment is gone. She pulls her face away, needing to put distance between them, needing to remind herself of the boundaries they have to keep. You can only be so close to the person you love but can never have. "I'm fine." Olivia says softly through the heartbreak. Because the more she says it, maybe the more it will become less of a lie.
But the strength of Elliot's arms won't let her go and she finds herself caught in the blue of his eyes. Kiss me, she thinks with his face so close to hers. She would close her eyes to hold the moment if it wouldn't make her lose this connection between them. She needs him like she needs oxygen.
"Yeah?" He looks her over, searching her body for wounds, her soul for the scars, knowing the truth without even trying: the truth of their want, the truth of their pain. "Like hell you are." Everything has changed again. How will they catch up when the punches never stop coming? Each case takes another piece of her and she never knows how much will be left when it's all over. She's always too scared to find out.
The fear is mirrored in his eyes; makes her pull away. She shakes her head and tries to remember only the details she needs to focus on in order to solve the case at hand. "Did you…" But she can't think. What was she doing before all this happened? "check the…" What was Elliot doing before this hallway run-in? "security logs from Harding's office?" Yes. That's right. Be a cop. Do her job. Make sure all of this wasn't in vain.
His breathing is fast, ragged. He doesn't know how to do this either – to keep plowing through the muck. He rubs at his temple with his left hand - she tries not to see his silver wedding band. He's just as lost in this as she is. "That's why it took me so long to get here."
They have to breathe. They have to get back in sync: melding the rhythms of their body to the pace of their jobs, the turning of the world on its axis. They have to get back to reality.
"I checked on every male who signed in the last six months. One name rang a bell."
Yes. This they can do. They always have. They have to. Right back into the flow. "Whose?"
And he's with her, just like always. "David Adams. But he doesn't exist."
Doesn't what? How? "So who's the ghost there to see?"
"Alicia Harding's assistant," he nods at her realization. "Rachel Gray."
And now she has somewhere to go, something to do, some reason to stand on her own two feet again instead of relying on Elliot to hold her up. In acknowledgement she pats him on the shoulder. It's a way of telling him she can take care of herself. It's a way of telling him goodbye without having to say the words.
She has to pull against his grasp. His fingers seek purchase so hard it's like he's massaging a knot from her back. But she keeps walking. The more steps she takes and the farther away she gets, the more she wants to cry. All she can smell is his aftershave. It's somehow seeped into her clothes and now she can't breathe without him. It's too much. Too much for this day that never should've happened to begin with.
So she walks. She walks and she prays she never has to stop. She can't stop or she'll turn around. She can't even glance over her shoulder. What if he's watching her? What if he's waiting for a hint, the smallest of signs in the pause of her step? What if that's all he needs to decide to follow her? What if all he's waiting for is the semblance of a reason? She wants to be inside the peace of his hug again, safe from the world. But she can't. They can't.
So she walks.
