Author Note – I want to apologise to those of you who follow me on Twitter and took part in the recent POV poll I set for this story. Olivia was the winner, but this flowed from Elliot's POV, I hope you'll agree. At some point I may add a second chapter from Olivia's POV. Enjoy. Spoilers for Paternity, Wildlife and Pursuit.
Disclaimer – I don't own, just borrowing.
Hug
A hug can be many things. A welcome, a goodbye. A celebration, a condolence. The reason doesn't matter because they all have one thing in common, you're wrapped around another human being. There's contact, chest to chest or a side embrace. No matter how brief or lasting, you're pressed against someone else. And that's the lasting memory, the physical one your body remembers even if you forget the circumstances.
You're not a hugger but you've lost count of how many people you've hugged. Mostly you were offering comfort, the act itself never provided you with any; you were too caught up with the why. What's strange to you is that you took them and what they meant to others for granted. You enjoy your personal space, you don't apologise for that, but you purposefully distanced yourself from others when you've needed comfort hasn't worked out well for you in the past. Sometimes you wonder if it would have been easier to let someone hug you. Truth is no one dared to encroach on your little bubble when you needed comfort. Not even your family. Of course there were people who wanted to help you, who you probably would've let in, but they had boundary issues of their own.
Not people, rather someone.
As a rule, you don't think about her. You break it every day. You don't mean to; you can't help it. You wake up every morning and you think that'll be the day when nothing reminds you and then you realise you've already broken your rule before you've had breakfast.
Today, you're not don't know why you are. That's not true, you figured out a long time ago the thought of her makes it easier despite the reminder that there's nothing you could do to make up for walking away without a word. It's another thing to add to your list of fuck ups. Right now, you're sat in the garden of Maureen's future in laws and everyone is hugging everyone else. You watch your eldest and her fiancé, they're always touching in some way; whether they are stand close enough for their shoulders to crush, their hands linger as they part. It's uncomfortable for you to watch but you're happy for her and proud of her for being able to express her feelings in ways you were never able to. Your other kids are around somewhere, along with Kathy and her new husband, they readily accepted hugs from the future in laws, and you're sitting alone on the porch thinking about your former partner.
You hugged her three times. You don't count the times you held each other when you were injured. The first time was all on you. You didn't plan it, just acted on impulse.
You left your wife's room, full of relief and the pride of a new father, to find her waiting in the hospital hallway covered in your wife's blood, dust, sweat and whatever else was left over from the crash. Her eyes glazed over as she stared straight ahead at the wall. If you had been thinking clearly you might have been worried about her being in shock but all that mattered was the last person she held was your new born son, comforted him as his mother crashed in the ambulance and, God, you needed to be the next.
She snapped out of her daze as you approached. Her mouth straightened into a line, pushed into her cheeks and she smiled with her eyes. They twinkled. She beamed and you knew she was hiding the toll the day took on her. She asked the questions she was supposed to ask, the ones anyone would and you answered as the new father you were, as if nothing was different, as if none of them could have died. She pushed off the wall and prepared to fall into step with you but you couldn't let the moment pass. You could've lost all of them.
Your hand wrapped around her wrist and you spun her around before she could do anything. You felt her crash into your chest and tense up and you thought she was going to deck you but you were resilient. You had to tell her everything you couldn't say. Then she relaxed into you. Your hands slid around her to pull her closer as you pushed your mouth into her neck and whispered, "You're okay."
You said it twice, once for her, once for you.
Your mouth lingered and you wanted to say more. But you swallowed any apology or words of appreciation. Nothing seemed adequate compared to everything she had done for you that day. So you held on and said nothing for as she let you. You can't remember who let go first but you can't forget the look in her watering eyes as you pulled away from one another.
God, you fucked up.
It was as intense as the look she had given you that day in the courthouse. Sad, raw, and vulnerable. Intimate. It was a mix of emotions she rarely let you see and then it was for only a second. It was goodbye to every chance you had and never acted on. You knew you made a mistake the moment you woke up in Kathy's bed nine months ago. That wasn't your life anymore, and you tried to sneak out before the kids realised what was going on because you didn't want to confuse them more than you had. You ducked Kathy's calls because you didn't know how to tell her you didn't want to move home. You finally wanted to move on. Then Kathy told you she was pregnant and you didn't have a choice.
Olivia saved you from an awkward silence and asked about the name. Your heart swelled with pride as you told her Kathy's idea and she made everything okay by mumbling some joke about the world and two Elliot Stabler's.
Number two was all her and if you hadn't been scared for your lives you would've been pissed.
You never had a moment alone after that to tell her and you were relieved because you didn't know what you would've said to her and would've made it a hundred times worse if you tried talking about your bare chests pressed together as you did your best to shield her from Bushido and his henchman. Luckily for you, you tore the stitches during the bust and the doctor who re-stitched the bullet wounds put you on the DL. She was notably absent from the hospital but Cragen was waiting for you when you signed the discharge papers. You weren't allowed near the precinct for at least a week after the doctor deemed you fit for work. You didn't question it because you knew he knew without him telling you he did and was trying to head off any disruption to his squad by giving you a chance to get your head together before the tension escalated. And it finally hit you that you and Olivia weren't the only ones who were affected by the fall-out from Guitano.
Then you remembered anotherconversation in another hospital corridor. You have a real knack for words. You were trying to tell her what she meant to you and somehow she thought you wanted to end your partnership. Next thing you knew some brash, burly cop from Brooklyn met you at a scene because Cragen was trying to teach you a lesson. Of course you let your anger take the lead. You focused on that only to be blindsided when she found you before you had a minute to look for her. You were stunned to silence when she turned up and commented on your shirt because not once in the previous seven years had she mentioned your clothes. Stunned is the wrong word, more too angry to talk. Your heart clenched as she uttered 'It was too complicated'.
You shake your head to clear it and take a sip of your drink. You're getting off topic. You can't go back in time and change things. You fought your way through. Literally.
You tend to focus on your regrets when you think about Olivia but someday you want to forget all about the tension, arguments and the mistakes and remember the times when it was you and her; when you were able to tell each other things that no one else knew; when you let yourself be vulnerable.
That brings you to the third and final embrace. The last one. That one, that was mutual.
And though you remember every detail you wish you were paying more attention because you feel like you missed something. If someone had told you it was going to be the last time you would have let it last longer than it did even in a deserted hallway where one of your colleagues could find you at any minute.
You remember pulling the door open with purpose after passing Melinda as she was on her way out with Sonja's body. She said very little but made it clear you needed to find Olivia. That was your goal anyway but you quickened and lengthened your stride and ventured into the building. You never cared for the recovering ADA but Sonja reminded her of Serena and you knew her death would hurt but that never prepared you for the way you found Olivia.
Tears streaked down her face as she looked up. For a second you worried she might turn away, instead she met you half way uttering the words you never thought you would here, "I'm really glad you're back."
Her soft exhale countered your sharp inhale as her body collided with yours. Your arms tightened on her as she tucked her head to your shoulder. She was shaking. Your normally composed partner was distraught and you were upset for her.
"I should've come home sooner," you whispered. It probably wouldn't have made much difference but you should've cut your visit short, maybe you could've saved Olivia from finding Sonja the way she did.
Olivia's cheek touched yours and lingered close as she sighed. Her breath touched your ear. "I'm fine," she argued hoarsely.
You didn't let her pull back completely only enough so you could watch her face. You didn't need to look at her to know she was lying. Her eyes avoided yours and your hands stroked down her arms. You'd gotten closer in the months leading to that moment and you couldn't let her brush it off. A lump caught in your throat as you looked at her, you swallowed it loudly and uttered, "Like hell you are."
She didn't argue, so you prattled on about the information you had about the killer, bringing the moment back to work, saving her from withdrawing like she saved you from delving further into an awkward conversation after Eli was born. You still don't know why you were afraid to press further. At the time you blamed it on focusing on the case, hoping catching Sonja's killer would make Olivia feel better.
Maybe because it was an honest moment and neither of you were hiding. Maybe because you could've acted on instinct instead of doing the right thing. Maybe because you were scared you would screw up another chance.
Yeah, you think about it a lot. You think about everything you could've done differently; about wishing you answered one call; about how she could've driven out to see you and railed at you for being a stubborn son of a bitch; about how you could've found her and apologised for being one. You wish you had been brave enough to. Maybe you would have held her more than three times, you'll never know.
Because sometimes a hug is just a hug.