The ambulance ride became a blur, and before George could register it, he was being shooed into a waiting area. Elliot was wheeled off to surgery. He still looked pale and bloody, George noted.
"Are you hurt at all?" A nurse asked, walking up to him. She eyed him carefully.
George shook his head. "The blood isn't mine; it's his." He shuddered inwardly at the realization that he was covered in someone else's blood.
"You should get cleaned up. We'll call you if there's any change-"
"I want to stay here. Do you have any extra shirts?"
The nurse nodded reluctantly. "I always keep a few. Give me a minute." She disappeared for a few minutes. While he was waiting, Captain Cragen and Olivia Benson walked up to him.
"George, what happened?" Olivia exclaimed.
"I ran into Elliot at a gas station near my house. We were talking when we noticed two suspicious men walk in. They pulled out their guns and we pulled ours out. I managed to take them out, but Elliot-"
He had to choke down a sob. The reality of the situation suddenly crashed on him. Elliot could very well be dying, and the last time they had seen each other before the shooting they had argued- Elliot could end up dying thinking that George hated him. It sounded so cliché, but George still felt awful. I was so stupid about Elliot! Why didn't I say anything to him?
"Shh, it's okay," Olivia said gently. She set a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Do you need any water or anything before you can continue?"
"No. Anyway, Elliot got shot, and I did some first aid and tried to keep him talking, but then one of them fired and hit Elliot again and I had to shoot the gunman for a second time… Elliot seemed like he would be okay before the second bullet. I should have taken the guns away from the shooters!"
"George, making sure Elliot was okay should have taken priority0 you did everything right. Have you gotten an update on Elliot's condition yet?" Olivia asked.
"No, but I know that he was in bad shape when we arrived. He'll be in surgery for at least a few hours."
Cragen nodded. "You should go home in the meantime, doc," He suggested.
"I want to stay until I know he's okay," George insisted.
"Alright, but you need to go home after that," Cragen said sternly. George nodded his acceptance and gave a nervous-sounding sigh.
The nurse came back with an extra shirt. George murmured his thanks and pulled it on. He couldn't stop staring at the one he'd been wearing earlier. Elliot had lost so much blood…
George sighed and sat down again. Time seemed to have slowed down a ridiculous amount over the next few hours; George only kept himself from falling asleep by sheer willpower.
His thoughts wandered often, usually to Elliot. He and Elliot had become such good friends lately. It had been very gradual; finding themselves alone after a case and having a short conversation, Elliot coming to George for a profile only to find he had some spare time; but then they'd started talking more and more when they were off the clock.
There had been so many times when George had wanted to make a move. Tell Elliot exactly how he felt- but he never had been able to get himself to do it. And now all this. The fight had left him feeling so confused, hurt, and betrayed.
But the thought of Elliot dying at all, let alone without them at least having gotten back to being friends, was the most painful thought.
A nurse came in and walked over to them. "Detective Stabler made it out of surgery and he's in the ICU. But he's unconscious, and we're worried that he may slip into a coma, because he's still showing symptoms of shock."
George inhaled sharply. "Can I see him?"
"Yes, right this way," The nurse said kindly. George followed her to Elliot's room before Cragen's protests could reach his ears.
George was reminded of one thing he had learned during his days as an intern: the impact of seeing a patient in an ICU was always much worse when the patient was someone you knew. This was no exception. Elliot looked pale, forlorn, and ridiculously small because of the machines crowding him.
George sat down next to Elliot with a sigh. Elliot had come so close to death, and seeing Elliot like this was rough. George had hated seeing Elliot so close to death in the gas station, and he hated seeing him comatose, not doing anything except hovering somewhere between death and consciousness.
It was especially hard because George had had feelings for him for a long time. He'd never told Elliot because he was sure Elliot was the world's straightest cop. He hadn't wanted to risk their friendship, but now he regretted it. He wished he'd told Elliot what he felt.
And their friendship really was something special- but the fight still confused him, and it hurt. He forgave Elliot, but he was worried that Elliot wouldn't forgive him for whatever he thought George had done.
He knew they had been stupid, but still, he decided, he could set things right once Elliot woke up. They had survived, and if he was given a second chance, he had to say something. Even if Elliot rejected him, it would be better than continuing to pretend the feelings didn't exist.
If he was lucky, Elliot would actually feel the same, and they'd start a life together... George shook the thought from his head. He just almost died- stop being stupid! This is no time to think about that!
He looked over at Elliot again. He decided to tell him how he felt now. He wasn't sure if unconscious people could hear people talking or not- he'd heard stories about people who could hear people speaking, but not everyone could. He didn't have anything to lose, though, and no one but Elliot was in the room, so he decided to try.
"Elliot, I know you're almost certainly not gay, but-" He shook his head again. That would make Elliot think he was getting psychoanalyzed- instant shut down.
"Elliot, this has been on my mind for a long time..." He huffed in frustration. He wanted to say it without sounding like a buttoned-up professional, and without sounding like an awkward teenager with a crush.
He gave a deep sigh and grasped Elliot's hand. "Elliot, our friendship means a lot to me, and I didn't tell you this because I didn't want to risk that friendship, not to mention the fact that I was worried about what Kathy and your kids would think. I don't know what the deal was with that fight… I don't know if you want to even be my friend anymore. But I can't keep hiding my feelings. I care about you more than as a shrink, or a co-worker, or a friend. I love you, Elliot. I know you're straight, or at least, you've never identified as anything else but straight… but if you feel the same, I'll help make it an easier transition. Without the shrinking, because that seems to cause all our problems." He gave a small, ironic laugh, and added, "And if you don't feel the same… just being friends is better than nothing."
Whew, that felt good. "You're probably hurting a lot right now, so give yourself a little while and stay… wherever you sent yourself to escape the pain. But you'd better come back after then, okay? I need you, even if it's just as a friend. But I'd love to have you as more than that." He squeezed Elliot's hand tightly. "Just think about it, okay?" He asked softly.
He shook his head. I don't even know for sure if he hears me or not. "Anyway, I'm not going to leave, okay? I'm going to stay right here until you wake up."
George stroked the back of Elliot's hand absently while he let his thoughts roam. He wondered how long it would take for Elliot to regain consciousness.
With a sigh, he leaned back slightly and settled in for a long night.
