Author's Note: So I've had almost half of this chapter written for some time now but never got around to finishing it. I guess my interest in SVU has been re-ignited recently so I decided to revisit this story, finish the chapter up and get it posted. I apologize for the incredible delay in updating, I hope to get a couple of more chapters up in the not so distant future. And again this story takes place in season 10, around the time of PTSD, although it deals a lot with what happened in previous seasons from around Fault (season 7) through Undercover (season 9). I know that seems like forever ago but what can I say, I like to live in the past.


Olivia sheds her jacket as she enters the apartment and tosses it over one of her kitchen barstools. She makes a gesture to her partner as if to say, "well since you're here, you might as well sit down," but her expression and her posture betray her true feelings. She doesn't want him here and she doesn't care if he knows it. She's just so tired and as much as she appreciates Elliot's newly renewed interest in her life, she could really use a shower right now.

Elliot takes a seat in the center of the sofa and glances around as if he's taking in his surroundings for the first time. Olivia excuses herself once he's settled and soon he hears the sink running from the bathroom in her bedroom. His mind begins to wander as he scans the familiar apartment and soon he's very uncomfortable sitting on his partner's couch. Recalling the volume and clarity of that asshole's voice from earlier tonight, Elliot realized that the nameless asshole and Olivia must have been on the couch, or at least in the room, when they were having sex. Quickly he's on his feet, anxious and pacing.

He hates that he's so disgusted by this. Olivia is a grown woman, she should be able to have sex with men without it bothering him. But this didn't sit well with him. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem like she was enjoying herself. The thought makes him laugh to himself. If only he could explain to his partner that he didn't exactly have a problem with her having sex with strangers, as long as she was having a good time. Although he knows that's not entirely true either; he'd still have a problem with it, even if Olivia was having the time of her life, because she deserves better and because he'd always be a bit jealous of the men who got to experience that part of her.

"What's so funny?" Olivia asks as she walks back into the living room.

Elliot flinches at the sound of her voice. "What?"

She eyes him warily. "Why are you smirking?"

He can't help but chuckle at being caught in the mist of such irrational thoughts. "Oh, it was nothing. Just thinking about something."

Olivia knows he's holding something back but doesn't press him about it like she might have done in the past. She's a little afraid he'll admit to laughing at her if she did. "You want something to drink?" she asks after watching him for a moment.

Elliot shakes his head no and she takes a seat on the far end of the couch. "You gonna sit down?" she asks. He's acting weird but she doesn't want to bring it up.

"Nah, I need to stretch my legs. I was sitting out there for a while," he answers. He knows she doesn't quite believe him but will accept his bullshit just for the sake of peace. He's always been a terrible liar, especially to her, but sometimes she let him get away with it just to humor him.

Neither of them speak for a while. Olivia thinks Elliot should get the ball rolling since he's the one who felt it necessary to sit at her doorstep and wait for her to return home in the middle of the night, but Elliot can't find any words that won't make him sound like a judgmental jerk so he waits.

"You were right before," Olivia finally says, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She may have been the one to cave first and speak but she can't bring herself to make eye contact.

"About what?"

"The guy who left here earlier. I don't know his name. I didn't ask. He might have told me but I don't remember."

He knows Olivia wouldn't have invited him in if she didn't plan on discussing this with him on some level, but he's still shocked to hear her acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"I didn't really care at the time," she admits, her voice thick with emotion.

Elliot suddenly feels guilty for coming back. She shouldn't be sitting here explaining herself to him. She didn't owe him anything. "Olivia," he starts cautiously. Maybe he made a mistake, maybe he really didn't want to know why she had picked up this newest habit. Maybe he couldn't handle it.

"Why'd you come here?" She turns to look at him finally.

"To apologize for earlier," Elliot answers quietly.

Olivia shakes her head. "No. I mean why did you come here in the first place, El?"

"I told you," he answers.

"Right," she says, nodding her head with a humorless laugh. "To invite me to Christmas dinner, but we both know you could have called to do that. So why'd you really come here tonight, Elliot?"

Elliot swallows hard, realizing he has to be honest if he expects her to be. "To see how you've been," he admits.

"You see me every day at work. You need to drive a half hour into the city to see how I am on your off-time?"

"I didn't know," he says quietly.

"Didn't know what?" Olivia asks.

"How much you needed someone to be here for you. How much pain you've been in." Elliot lowers his eyes, ashamed at having failed her.

"I have a few one night stands so I must be in some dark torturous place in my life, is that it?" Olivia scoffs. She stands up from the sofa and rolls her eyes in his direction before walking past him and into the kitchen. "You saw me as someone other than your perfect pristine partner and you decided it was up to you to save me, huh?" she calls back to him from over her shoulder. "I don't need you to fix me, El. I'm not broken."

"I'm not here to save you. I just want to be here for you," Elliot argues. In all honesty, he would like nothing more than to fix this, fix her, but he knows she wouldn't let him, and even if she did, he wouldn't know how.

Olivia pulls an empty glass from the cupboard, slamming it down on the countertop before turning to address her partner. "You barely say two words to me these last few years, but now all of a sudden you're sitting at my door in the middle of the night like some sad lost puppy? I'm sorry, Elliot, but I've gotten along just fine without you, so don't do me any favors." She goes back to her glass, filling it with water from the sink and setting it down on the counter as she reminds herself to breathe.

"Yeah, you seem just fine," Elliot mumbles in response. He knows it's a low blow, but he's just so frustrated. How could she say she was fine? What she did tonight was definitely not fine.

Olivia spins around to face him yet again, the glass of water forgotten on the counter. "What gives you the right?" she demands.

"Maybe I don't have the right to be here now, maybe I've been a selfish prick," Elliot begins.

"Maybe?" she interjects dryly.

Elliot smirks. "Ok, I am a selfish prick. And I couldn't see it before, couldn't see you and what you were going through, but I do now so don't expect me to just look away while you're sinking."

"God, Elliot," Olivia sighs tiredly. "Give up the noble boyscout act. It's not you anymore."

"What do you want me to say, Olivia? I'm apologizing here. I'm trying—okay?" he says, his voice angry and pleading. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I turned my back on you when things got rough. I'm sorry I blamed you for things that weren't your fault. You've just always been safe to me and it was easier to blame you than take responsibility myself, but that doesn't make it right. So I'm sorry I wasn't a better friend to you, but you didn't exactly try to tough it out either. You ran away. Remember that? First with that bullshit transfer and then you up and disappear to Oregon for months without a word. So this isn't all on me, Liv. You ran away!"

Olivia takes a moment to recover from the shock of Elliot's apology and the harsh accusation that came with it. "I was just giving you the space you wanted," she says.

"You were trying to punish me," Elliot says.

Olivia's breath catches in her throat because he'd always been able to read her so well, know her intentions before she realized them herself, but it'd been so long since they'd been on the same page and it's jarring to be called out like that now, to be under his careful scrutiny once again. He wasn't entirely right, she hadn't asked for the transfer to punish him. She needed a break and she knew he did too. Things between them had been tense after the incident with Gitano. They had stopped communicating, stopped being in sync with one another and she doesn't think they ever really recovered from that day. She knew he blamed her for that little boy's death, and she had been so angry with him for calling her competence into question. They needed a break from one another. She hadn't wanted to punish him, but she did want to get away from him to prove to him she didn't need him.

The break didn't last long, she had missed the work too much. Even when she was supposed to be working computer crimes, she had found herself drawn to sex crimes, working SVU cases like she had never left. The work, the victims, her colleagues were all a part of her and she wasn't willing to give them all up just because Elliot Stabler, the man she had trusted more than anyone in the world, didn't even trust her enough to take care of herself.

They had tried to get back to where they were before Gitano when she returned from Computer Crimes, but the process was slow and painful, and while they had their good days, things were never quite the same. She couldn't forget what he had said and he couldn't stop blaming her. Elliot was icy, more closed off than usual, and they hardly ever talked. The wound may have started to heal, but the scar was still there. Their relationship was officially strained. She felt like they were going in different directions, with neither of them bothering to fill the other one in on the new route. So she went to Oregon, again not to punish Elliot, because she had to, she didn't really have a choice, she had successfully infiltrated EDGE and the FBI needed her to follow through on her undercover operation. The space it put between them, the break it offered from the tattered partnership that had been the longest relationship she had with a man had just been a bonus. But she'd be lying if she didn't admit that she had hoped her absence would be the wake up call Elliot needed to pull his head out of his ass and realize he fucked up.

"God, you really are a self-absorbed bastard. Not everything I do is about you, Elliot," she manages to say after a moment. "My transfer wasn't about you. Oregon wasn't about you. And whatever it is you think you've discovered here tonight, it isn't about you either. I do have a life, you know. Outside of work and you, I have my own life and you have to let me live it."

"And you're proud of what you're doing with that life? Screwing two random guys in one night, that's the life you want for yourself?" he snaps at her.

"Get out," Olivia seethes, anger bubbling up inside her head. He doesn't move. "Get the fuck out of my apartment!" she shouts at him. He still doesn't move and she finds herself surging forward, bracing her hands against his hard chest and attempting to physically push him towards the door. "I said get out! I want you to leave, Elliot."

"No. We're not done here. You're always pressing me to talk, to open up more, well we're talking now," he responds cooly, seemingly unfazed by her obvious rage towards him.

She lets her hands fall from his chest with a sigh. They weren't doing much good anyway, his body is too hard and unyielding to move. "Just go, Elliot." Her voice is tired, pleading.

Elliot locks his eyes on her and shakes his head.

She turns away from his icy stare as tears begin to prick at her eyes. "I can't do this tonight. I'm tired, El. I'm so tired." She sits on the couch and lets her head fall heavily into her hands.

"Please, Liv. Just talk to me," Elliot says walking over to sit besides her, his previous fears about the state of her couch forgotten.

She laughs that dry humorous laugh again. "I don't think I know how to talk to you anymore, El. It's been so long."

It's not her words that cut him like sharpen blades, it's the way she says them, devoid of anger and accusations. She sounds defeated, resigned to the idea that he won't ever be there for her again. He has to change her mind. "Try. It's like riding a bike, you'll get the hang of it again," he says with a slight smile.

"Where do I start?" she asks, her voice tired and hoarse.

"The beginning. What really happened at Sealview, Liv?"