She wonders, as she climbs yet another flight of stairs how it came to be that the elevator would break down on the coldest day in January when she had six bags of groceries and a fever of 103. It was seven days after New Years. She worked Christmas, she worked New Years Eve, and had it been England, she would have worked Boxing Day as well. Cragen sent her home because Lydia Knowles was in no way going to be found today. She hadn't been found Christmas, when everyone except she and Munch were at home with their families, and she hadn't been found on New Years either, when Fin and she worked a stake out and welcomed in the New Year with a fresh cup of coffee. She hadn't been found on Boxing Day, when Elliot came in at two with no shoulder tension, no headache, no sleep caught on the hard mattresses of the crib. Cragen sent her home seven days after New Years when he caught her losing her breakfast in the women's bathroom. Elliot had told her not to walk home as she gathered up her jacket, purse, and headed for the door. It was Munch who offered her a ride. Olivia turned around at the sound of a chair pulling back, and from the hallway, she watched as Fin called Elliot an ass and Elliot bristled but made no move to fight back. John put his hand on her back, led her to the car, and he turned the heat on high as soon as they pulled out.
"Liv?"
"Yeah John?"
Munch always looked lost when he had something important to say, when he was softer and kinder.
"Call if you need anything."
"Yeah, I will"
He looked sad. She wondered what kind of conversations Fin and he had about her when they were alone with hours to kill on a stakeout.
"I'll be fine John. Thanks for the ride."
"Anything for a beautiful lady"
"Shove it John."
"Take care of yourself Olivia"
She slammed the door, the elevator had worked then and she stood in the middle of it, not touching any walls because today they smelled like piss and alcohol. She fell asleep for the better half of the morning, but the afternoon arose and she went grocery shopping. That's when the elevator broke, that's when she almost passed out on the stairs, that's when she barely got into her apartment in time to throw up again. She put away everything perishable and then went back to sleep. Knocking woke her up at seven. Assuming her neighbors kid had just locked himself out again, she opened the door. She wished she hadn't. She was met with a dour Elliot storming his way into her apartment and grabbing one beer, not two, from her fridge.
"El?"
"We got him"
"Okay"
"He killed her"
She sighed. Of course. She had only been working this case practically solo for two weeks, and he was mad.
"Looked like –"
"Elliot, they all look like your kids."
"Shut Up"
"Get out."
He turned to her. He was all brick and concrete and squinted eyes.
"What?"
"Get out"
"What the hell Olivia?"
"If you're going to stay, don't yell at me, and keep your fucking voice down, I can barely stand the light, let alone you yelling."
His face softened. He hadn't seemed to have even acknowledged her appearance, the paleness of her skin, the shake in her hands, the exhaustion creeping its way from her eyes. Her hair was mussed, her arms wrapped around her, Goosebumps traveling the periphery of her skin.
She went and sat down. He made his way to her kitchen, put the kettle on. Opened his beer, rolled his neck and then went to sit on the couch.
"Sorry"
"Yeah"
"I just-"
"There was no way she was alive Elliot. We worked this case day in and day out for three weeks."
"You did."
"So did everyone else"
"But you never left"
"Are you just here to fight with me?'
"What do you mean?"
"You don't make any sense El."
"Yeah."
"She did look like Lizzie"
"Yeah."
"How long you been sick?"
"A while."
The kettle whistled, and he stood. Digging in her cupboards he found peppermint tea bags and a mug. He grabbed the blanket off the couch and threw it over her before handing her the tea, and then sat back down.
"You eaten?"
"No."
"Liv."
"Don't go their El. Please."
He stood again, his beer half gone, his rage tempered by the woman huddled into the corner of the couch, and he dug around her drawers for a take out menu. Picking up the phone, he ordered.
He stared at her from the kitchen. He was always staring at her these days, with sad eyes and a cocked head.
"What?"
"I'm sorry. You were asleep. This was your case and I wake you up and, Liv you look like shit.
"Thanks."
"I'm just…Sorta lost here Liv."
"Welcome to the club"
Olivia fell asleep before the deliveryman even rang her doorbell. Elliot paid, woke her up and forced food down her throat. She thought, as he left, that he was the most bizarre man she had ever encountered.
