One – Shot: He Would've Known
Author: Dark Wings Of Imagination
Genre: Angst/Hurt
Summary: "Nothing would hunt her more than the way he responded when she mentioned Elliot's name.
And, perhaps that had been a mistake, but she couldn't help herself when that was the moment in his absence she needed him most."
A\N: it was inspired by the scene in S15 Ep. 01 when Liv says that Elliot would have known what to do with Lewis. No beta.
She couldn't sleep. She wouldn't, not when every time she closed her eyes she still could see that monster in front of her. She could not succumb to the tiredness in her not while she could still feel Lewis' presence around her. His voice still inside her head, deafening her, making her deadly silent room seem louder than a Metal concert.
His face still plagued her, also, and to her it will always – his face red at the edge of his anger, his eyes that read murder. Everything about him will always hunt her and have the ability to make her crawl under her own skin. But nothing about him could affect her more than his voice. Nothing would hunt her more than the way he responded when she mentioned Elliot's name.
And, perhaps that had been a mistake, but she couldn't help herself when that was the moment in his absence she needed him most. What William shouldn't have done, though, was think he could join her thoughts about Elliot, and claim that she still wanted her partner, as if he knew her, knew them.
Lewis should have never even thought about talking about her ex-partner, let alone to try and judge who Elliot Stabler was as if he meant nothing – because it didn't, not for her anyway; to Olivia he meant everything. One thing she was certain about, though. Elliot Stabler would most definitely have known what to do with a scumbag like William Lewis.
He wouldn't doubt himself – his actions – like she did. He would never have showed any weakness, not in front of that pervert. He wouldn't hesitate, once he was alone with Lewis he would punish him for the hell he had put Olivia through, she was certain of it. And after finishing whatever he would have done – and it is no secret what that would be – he would have known what she needed him to do.
He would have known how not to overwhelm her with questions, or unnecessary touches, one look would be enough for him to know she needed him to simply be there. Silently he would climb on the back of the ambulance with her.
He would sit impatiently at the hospital waiting room until she was cleared and he could see her. He would ask the doctor what the prognosis was and would stick with her until they could finally go. He wouldn't ask where she would rather stay – he knew she would have preferred her apartment – he would take her straight with him to his place, though – even if it meant she would be in the same house his family lived in, and all of them would welcome her, if that was the case – and if it wasn't, and if he had been staying at some one bedroom apartment, he would've given her his bed against all of her arguments of "there's no need'.
In his own way he would take care of her until he was sure could walk alone once again, and then he would help her slowly put her life on track again. He would be there every step of the way, even when she didn't need him nor want him there.
He would.
If he had been there.