Disclaimer – I don't own Law and Order – Special Victims Unit or any of the characters.
Painful Though Parting Be
"It's much easier to not know things sometimes. Things change and friends leave. And life doesn't stop for anybody."
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
The door slammed shut behind her and she couldn't bring herself to care about her neighbours complaining about the noise. She slumped back against the wood. Her hand lifted out of habit to the light switch, pausing before she flicked it. She had to stop doing that.
She sighed as she lifted her arm higher and her hand ran through her hair, fingers searching for her hairband as she pulled it out. She didn't bother running her hand through the mangled tresses as she rested her head on the door as her eyes slid shut. She emitted a sigh which came out as a whimper when she felt the tears prickling her eye lashes. She shed them once today and she knew they would fall again once she was in private, her tight rein on them slipping but she wasn't quite ready to let them flow just yet.
She was relieved to be paired with Fin today. His usual stoic silence provided a small amount of comfort when they were in the sedan earlier. He'd been waiting for her when she came out of the interrogation room and she expected him to ask about her red rimmed eyes. But thankfully he didn't and silently handed her a tissue which she used to wipe a stray tear before hastily tucked into her pocket.
Opening her eyes slowly she pushed away from the door and propelled herself towards the kitchen. Olivia didn't bother to turn on the light, she didn't need to. Without glancing around her living room she walked to the corner cabinet, reaching up as she opened the door only to find a blank space where the bottle of bourbon should be. She withdrew her hand stared at the space in confusion, glancing around the bottle of wine to see if she moved it without remembering. She wouldn't resort to the wine tonight, she needed something stronger.
She jumped and her hand went to her gun to draw it when something slid across the worktop behind her. Her body spun as she faced the person who had taken it upon themselves to break into her apartment. She instinctively relaxed when she came face to face with her partner as he emerged from the shadows, only to tense again when she remembered that he was her former partner.
Her eyes slid over Elliot's face, taking in his solemn stance. The stubble on his face was edging on a full beard and it looked wrong to her, almost like a mask that did little to hide his weary expression. Despite the lack of light his blue eyes pierced through her. They lacked their usual spark. He held her gaze for a long moment and she had no idea what to say, everything she had planned on saying to him on the numerous unanswered calls goes out of her head.
He deliberately drags to gaze to her gun which is still in her hand. Her hand tilted it to the side in apology and her grip relented as she replaced it in her holster. Her eyes dropped to her hands as they refastened the button. She took her time, stumbling as she used the moment to gather her thoughts and regain control of her erratic heartbeat. When she could no longer fiddle with it as a distraction, her hand ran along the edge of her jacket, tucking it over her holster to hide her gun. Giving it one last tug Olivia drew her gaze back up to Elliot's to find him concentrating on her intently.
It hits her that neither of them has spoken, she hasn't asked him to explain how he got into her apartment.
Why he never answered her calls.
Why he left her.
Why he let Cragen tell her.
Why he's here now.
"I used my key," Elliot says as he sees the questions flit across her face.
Her eyes flick in acknowledgement and she takes half a step forward. She's still on edge as he slides a tumbler across the counter towards her, her missing bottle of bourbon is in his other hand besides his own glass. He never liked bourbon, but apparently his usual brand of beer which resides in her fridge wasn't going to cut it with this conversation. They've never been the type of people who hung out at a bar after a case. It seems out of place that they're doing it now. It only happened on a rare occasion; he usually had to rush home to Queens.
The alcohol splashes against the sides of the glass as he pours her a healthy shot without bothering to ask if she wanted one. But then again she had gone straight to the cabinet where he found the bottle. Olivia doesn't grip her glass as he pours his own shot; her finger runs around the bottom of it where it meets the counter.
She takes in his appearance. His clothes are disheveled and worn, just like his expression. Her heart sinks as he lets out a sigh when he replaces the bottle on the counter with a thud. He doesn't grip his glass, instead braces his hands on the counter either side of it and bows his head to look to the floor. The muscles in his back flexed as he tensed, like he was fighting an impulse. She can see his struggle, doesn't need to hear the low growl he lets escape. Elliot's posture reminds her of her mother when she tried to go sober, and Olivia hopes he hasn't taken that route. He isn't drunk and she can't smell any alcohol on him, but he knows her history with her mother and she doesn't believe he would come to her in that state, no matter how he felt. Suddenly she doesn't need the bourbon.
"I'm sorry for coming by unannounced," Elliot says to the ground. He makes a strangled sound in his throat. "And I'm sorry for not returning your calls," he says lifting his head to look at her finally.
"It's fine," she replies out of habit.
His eyes flare angrily and he shakes his head. "No it's not." He huffs out a breath, he's still frustrated but it's slowly subsiding. "I just wanted to see you instead of doing this over the phone," he meets her gaze.
"Wanted to do what?" She queries.
"Cragen had to tell you officially, but I, uh," he falters and his words die on his lips as he stares at her. They both know why he's there, but Elliot needs to say it as much as Olivia needs to hear it. He shakes his head once again, slower, resigned rather than frustrated. "I didn't want to say anything till I knew what I was going to do."
"This was your decision?" She watches him closely for any flinch or anything to tell her he doesn't want to do this. He looks away, glancing at the front door and she wonders whether he'll storm out.
His throat bobs as he swallows uncomfortably. "It was," he says finally.
"Really? IAB had nothing to do with it?"
He shrugs and wipes a hand across his face. "They gave me some options," Elliot replied wearily but he doesn't elaborate.
Olivia gnaws the tip of her tongue with her teeth. His answer annoys her. He may have handed in his papers but they forced him into it. He's never given up before, always resilient when someone tries to force him to do something he doesn't want to do and she can't imagine he would want to give up this job for anything. She wouldn't.
"They cleared you," Olivia argues more calmly than she expected. "It was a good shot."
"Yeah," Elliot nods his head with difficulty, looking away as his eyes sheen over.
"Then why?" She asks her voice cracking, her own tears rising once again. His head turns sharply to her when he hears the break in her voice. His mouth drops open but he doesn't say anything, just stares at her, awestruck. He sniffs once, sighs and relaxes. She stares at him disbelievingly, unable to accept he's giving up, giving in.
"Why Elliot?" Olivia pushes because she needs to know, needs him to tell her, wants him to change his mind, and wants him to stay.
"They were going to split us up." He says it so quietly that she would have thought she was imagining it if she hadn't seen his lips move. Her eyes reconnect with his and he continues. "They went through everything. If I came back we would have been assessed, again. I didn't want to drag you into it."
"You don't need to protect me, neither of us did anything wrong," she replies harshly.
…..
Elliot wonders if she really believes that. The lines are blurred for him. While they've never crossed any lines, he's wanted to, he's thought about it too much. Elliot doesn't want that kind of scrutiny, never has. He understood the unspoken threat Tucker gave him when he outlined the conditions if he wanted to return to Special Victims. They would never have passed the assessments he wanted them to go through. He wants to save her from the kind of pressure he's been under for the last few weeks.
Elliot looks at her imploringly, silently begging her to understand and accept what he's telling her. She looks as tired as he feels. He hates the pain he's causing her, causing both of them. He came to say goodbye, give them some closure so they could both move forward. He didn't want to, but this is what was best for her.
"It's for the best," Elliot says steeling himself for her rebuttal.
"You don't believe that," she shakes her head on cue and there's a twinge in his heart because he knew she was going to say that.
"I do," he says. He does believe it. He wants nothing more than to take the pain in her eyes away. He can't. Elliot blinks slowly trying to forget the gleam in Tuckers' eyes as he told him of his decision. "I don't like it, but I do believe it."
He takes a step forward and is stopped by the counter between them. He wants to be closer but knows it's better this way. It's easier, less temptation to take her in his arms. He's allowed himself that comfort before. He's scared if he lets himself hold he won't let go. He needs to let go, walk away.
"You're giving up," her words are harsh and her temper flaring.
She's stating it rather than questioning. He knows she's trying to goad him into an argument because she's trying to detach, trying to protect herself. He wants to argue back; it's what they're both comfortable with. But doesn't.
"I can't keep doing this, I can't keep pulling that trigger," he says thickly.
"It wasn't your fault Elliot."
"It doesn't feel like it." He hasn't slept in a while; his attempts are haunted by the image of Jenna lying in his arms, her life slipping away as he held her. "She died because I made a mistake."
"She was a moving target," Olivia fires back. "There was no way-"
"Liv," he snaps, cutting her off. He doesn't want to talk about this; it isn't why he came here. He wasn't ready. He almost laughs when she snaps to attention in front of him. "I'm leaving," he says softly.
"I don't want you to," Olivia replies.
"You think I want to?" Elliot asks rhetorically. He waits a beat. "But I have to, I can't go back."
"Will you stay in touch?"
He pauses. He hears the hope in her voice and his heart wrenches. He wants to but he needs some time. He knows seeing Olivia after this will make it difficult to stay away. He wasn't lying when he said couldn't go back. He originally requested to work in the unit to stop the sadistic filth who perpetrated the disgusting atrocities they saw every day. It's under his skin, in his head, his nightmares. He doesn't sleep, just lies awake staring at the ceiling. He paces almost constantly, his fist clenching as he resists the urge to hit out.
He has a problem and he had to deal with it.
It's hard to admit, but he realized it a long time ago. He knows being in her life after tonight will lead him to asking about the cases, the reason for that faraway look in her eye. He'd be curious, he'd need to know, and he'd always worry about her. It would draw him back in. He wouldn't be able to get help if he didn't have a clean break.
"I can't." Elliot wants to look away but he can't. A lone tear escapes him as her lip quivers but she manages to hold hers in.
"I miss you," Olivia croaks out. "I don't want another partner."
Another tear escapes him at the thought of someone else watching her back. Elliot never thought it would come to this. "I never thought I would leave you."
"I mean, maybe under the surface, somewhere that's hard to see, I've known it had to end for a long time. I just never thought I'd be the one to end it."
― Susane Colasanti, Waiting For You