He took a deep breath before he knocked. His insides were fluttering, jumping around almost and if he had food in his system he's sure it would have come up by now. Nervous. Why was he so nervous? It was Liv. He rolled his eyes. Yes, the same Liv he walked out on without a second glance back at. If only she had known what was going on in his head. Fuck, he didn't even really know. In the marines they had taught him to be aware of IED's. You never knew that the other side had up their sleeves when you were on the ground. He felt like that shit was in his mind. His mind was full of IED's that he had to carefully tread across, and killing that girl had started to set them off one by one. He was unravelling, and he didn't want to drag her into it. Then it became easy to ignore her calls for a few weeks, then months, and here they are a few years later.
He had gotten a call from Cragen that afternoon. Truth be told, he probably wouldn't have answered if he knew it was him. He was still trying to work his way through how to reach out to his former colleagues and ease back into his former life. It's just that Cragen called from his girlfriend's phone and he didn't recognize the number. Elliot smiled. The old bastard had a girlfriend. Good for him. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was the man who put his ass on the line way too much and too often for him. For all of them, really.
Cragen didn't mince words. He said laid it all on the line. Liv had a problem, and she needed someone to help pull her head out of her ass. Elliot had stood in his living room, behind the back of the couch, free hand gripping the end of the couch until his knuckles turned white. He listened to the captain tell him about Olivia's life, the trial, the whole ordeal. He should have been there. Fuck, he should have at least called. Sent flowers. Shit, would that help? What says, "I'm sorry you were tortured and drugged?" Orchids? He shook his head. He is a dumbass. A dumbass who walked away and has wanted a way back in and still hasn't had the balls to talk to her, and now that she's in need, he's supposed to come charging in? She's going to hate him more if she doesn't already.
At least 20 minutes had passed as he stood outside the door of her apartment. The apartment she had apparently been sharing with Cassidy. He rolled his eyes. Cassidy. What the fuck made her walk down that road again? Sure he was a nice guy. That was never an issue he had with the kid. He just wasn't…enough. He couldn't know her. Understand her. Maybe he himself didn't know her and understand her like he thought. But she deserved someone who would never give up trying, who could match her wit for wit, toe to toe and never back down, not matter how hard she pushed away. And he knew that could never be Cassidy.
He needed to do something, and before he could find a reason not to, he brought his knuckles up to the door and knocked a few times. His breath stilled within him. He wasn't breathing in or out. He wouldn't exhale until he could see her face again. And just like that, the door opened. And there she stood. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And he exhaled. He could breathe again. It was a breath he felt he had been holding since the last time he walked out of the one six.
And then glass was breaking. He watched as her beer fell from her hand to the floor, the liquid pooling by her toes. He used the opportunity to study her, wanting to etch as many details to memory as he could. In case she slammed the door in his face any second. Her hair was shorter then he remembered it being. Not as short as she sometimes cut it in the early years, but shorter than it had been. Her toes were in some cozy socks, and her long legs were clothed in black leggings. As his eyes made their way back up, he saw the familiar gray hoodie she had on. She was still staring at him. Her eyes were moist, not that she was crying, but some moisture had pooled there. He was sure his eyes reflected something similar. He was waiting for her to close the door right in his face, slap him, something. She just stood, however.
"Elliot?" it came out strangled, but it was all she could really muster. This had to be some weird dream. She must have passed out after a couple of drinks and she's imagining all of this.
"I called him, Liv." Cragen's voice called from somewhere behind, but it seemed far away. All she could see and hear was in the couple of feet surrounding her and Elliott. Nothing else really existed outside of this little bubble in the entrance way except the two of them.
"I'm sorry I haven't been here. But I'm here now. Can I come in?"
She said his name. He had heard her say it a million times in the voicemails he couldn't bring himself to erase, or the dreams he had, or the memories he couldn't shake. But here she was, saying it in living color. It was music to his ears.
But that's all she said, nothing further came out. She took a step back and he entered the apartment, stepping over the broken bottle and puddle of beer. She closed the door behind him, and wordlessly he reached behind and grabbed her hand, pulling her along and away from the entrance. "Here, watch your feet, I'll clean that up."
Of course, he's here 30 seconds and he's ready to fix things. She raised both her hands, "Just leave it." She walked back across the living room and left him on the other side, not far from Huang. She needed space, suddenly there was not enough air in the room for her, Elliot and all of these people. It was too small of a space, and he took up too much of it, he always had.
She stood on the farthest wall she could find, arms up protectively around her middle.
"I see we called in the big guns, what are you doing here, Elliot?" It was the same thing everyone wanted to know. Some wanted to greet him, others wanted to question him. But he was here for Olivia, and that took precedence over everything else at the moment.
Cragen turned to Olivia, positioning his entire body towards her. "I told you, I called him."
"Yeah, I got that, for what?"
"Well I figured maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to talk some sense into you. And it seems we need someone to."
She laughed again. This was rich. She really couldn't believe any of them. Her body doubled over slightly, as if it was the most hysterical thing she had ever heard. "Really?"
Her former bosses just nodded. Where was she going with this?
She straightened her posture once again and quieted her laughing down to a small chuckle, "You always thought we were too close and you bring him back here to, to what? Force me to get help?"
Elliot smiled, that same shit eating smile he's always had, "What can I say, I have a way of being persuasive. Especially when it comes to you." Nice to know he's the same cocky bastard he always has been. Time hasn't dulled that.
"Things change, Stabler. People leave, life goes on and you learn that heart to hearts and late night dinners when you couldn't sleep and stakeout chats about no one understanding you but your partner were just bullshit when said partner turns around and bolts without notice."
"Liv…" Fuck, she went there faster than he expected her to. He wanted to sort everything out with her. But not with an audience, and certainly once she had agreed to some kind of help.
"Look, don't sweat it. Shit happened. I get it. You don't owe me anything and I'm sorry you got dragged down from Queens to rescue me, I remember how much you hated that."
His eyes crinkled in confusion. "What?"
She closed her eyes, the words coming out, and the scenes replaying behind her eyelids as if it just happened. "I need to know you can do your job and not wait for me to come to the rescue…"
Puzzled eyes glanced around the room, wondering what the meaning of that was. But Elliot knew. He had said those words to her after Ryan was murdered, and he had let Gitano slip through his fingers.
"I was angry, when I said that, it wasn't your fault. I made a choice…." He exhaled, "I chose you."
She shook her head, back and forth slowly, she wanted to open her eyes, she wanted to take in the sight of him, in her living room, feet from her, which both scared her shitless and excited her at the same time. Well, and infuriated her if she was being honest. All these people crammed in the living room and she could feel herself being drawn to him like a magnet. The moment he walked through the door his scent had invaded her nostrils, the air around her and was not letting go.
"You don't need to be here, El. You don't owe me anything. No one does. This is me, okay. All me. I need to sort this shit out in my head, and if having a few drinks helps me do that, then let me. Okay?" She started pacing in a small area no one else was in, her thoughts seemed to be jumbling together, everything at once hitting her. "None of you need to worry about me. I have been on my own for as long as I can remember, I can't think of a time when I wasn't. And I'm not trying to whine or complain, I'm just stating facts. Having a drink or two here or there helps ease the tension. It's har…" her voice cracked, she wasn't going to cry. She was not going to let any of the see her cry. "It's hard living inside your own head, replaying something over and over again." She decided to take a seat in the corner, her back up against the wall, "I've tried to move past it, I'm going to therapy. Sometimes I think it's really working. And then there's times when I think I need a drink to help me sleep. To get the images out of my head."
He wanted to run over and scoop her up in his arms, tell everyone else to get the fuck out, he could take care of her from here. But he had no right. Out of anyone in this room he had the least right to try to take over and fix her, as much as he wanted to.
She stared down at her hands, trying to avoid all the eyes in front of her. "You think my mom didn't try therapy? She did. She went for years, but she still came home and hit the bottle. We've all worked this job for so long, have we not all seen things we wish we could un-see?" She glanced up, finally taking her eyes off her hands, and landing on Casey, "Casey, your first case, did you not ask me how I did it?" her eyes turned to Munch, "Munch, do you not remember the Holt case, the piano teacher? Going through tape upon tape of him molesting his students?" her eyes shifted slightly to Cassidy, "Fuck, Brian you left not long after I joined SVU. You couldn't hack it. Now all of you imagine all those horrible things you saw. And then seeing them happen in person. Being handcuffed and watching someone hurt another. Having him on top of you, telling you that you're next to be raped, to be killed."
She really hadn't wanted to cry. She was trying like hell to avoid it. But the hot tears fell like little streams down her cheeks. Quickly she brought the sleeve of her hoodie up, using it to wipe at her face. When was this going to be over?
"You can all sit here and say that I have a problem, and tell me that it's hereditary because my mother was an alcoholic…"
"She fell drunk down a flight of stairs, Liv." Elliot interrupted her, "I'm sure no one here wants to get that call one day about you."
"Then I'll avoid the subway stairs."
He rolled his eyes. Fucking flippant ass comments she makes.
"Look, she was an alcoholic. She was also a smart and accomplished woman and I had to drag her inside when she came stumbling in from a night out and make sure she made it to the bathroom before she puked all over the floor. That's not me. I got suspended. I had a bit too much the day before, I was still a bit buzzed. I will work it out. But I never understood her until I came close to walking in her shoes. And none of you will understand me until you've walked in mine. So I don't need you guys," she pointed towards the trio of Casey, Alex and Melinda, "Over there sharing looks and whispers. Or you," looking towards Cragen, "Acting as my father calling this little pow-wow. And I don't need Fin and Munch here…or Nick. Same goes for you, George, you can make a return flight to Oklahoma. Brian, I don't need you telling me you love me, because really, you should want something more than what I could give you. It's not much, it was never going to be much. And I sure as hell don't need you here, Elliot. 13 years and not even a return fucking phone call when I just wanted to see if you were alright. Go back to your family and forget you were summoned out here. I know you all were supposed to sit here and take turns begging me to get help, do this do that, but I will handle myself. Now if you don't mind, I'd like you all to leave. Now."
Everyone slowly got up and started making their way towards the door. Melinda, Casey and Alex each asked her to call them if she needed something. George said he was going to be in town for a while if she wanted to meet up. Fin, Nick and Munch each asked her to talk to them as well if she needed something. She really couldn't stand it any longer. And here she was left, with her former boss, her former lover and her former partner, neither budging an inch.
Brian broke the silence after the others had left. "Liv, I love you. I don't care what has happened, I don't care that you think this has pushed us apart, we can find our way back, I'm not bailing on you." He stood and took a few steps towards her but she raised her hands up, as if shielding him off. She can't handle it. Really, even if Lewis hadn't happened, their relationship wouldn't have survived. Lewis was just the giant bomb that blew it up sooner than she anticipated.
"But I bailed, and that's not changing. I'm sorry. Please, go."
He nodded his head and turned away. He'll give her space, but he wasn't giving up.
Cragen stood, "I'll leave as well, and I know you're not ready, but when you are, come find me. I'll help you." And he followed Cassidy out the door. One left. Of course it had to be the most stubborn son of a bitch that was still here.
"That's your cue to leave, Stabler." She motioned for him to follow Cragen out but he stood in place, arms behind his back, hands clasped. His shoulders looked broad as his t shirt stretched across his chest. He still had that imposing look about him, the kind that would make the guys in interrogation want to piss their pants once they saw him. Except he didn't scare her.
"I'll leave. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. There's been a lot I've been trying to sort through. I didn't handle it well, any of it. And I should have been around for you. But I'm here now. I'll make it up to you."
She shook her head and looked across the room, in the opposite direction. Anything to avoid looking at him. She noticed that Cragen had set her bourbon high up on a shelf. The amber colored liquid sat still, as if frozen. That was exactly how she felt, frozen, with Elliot Stabler in her new living room, telling her he's sorry.
He continued on, "I know you don't have the energy right now to hash this out. But from what I hear, you're suspended. So you have time, and guess what, so do I. So I'll be back tomorrow. We have a lot of catching up to do."
She finally turned to face him again, "And what, you're going to come riding in like some knight in fucking armor and fix it all?"
He smiled, that cocky ass smile again, "No, not a knight, but I can listen like a friend. I'll be back, I promise."
And with that he turned and walked out the door, leaving her there in the middle of her now empty apartment. She could still smell his cologne in the air. Maybe that would help her get some sleep tonight.