Chapter Four

"I'm sorry."

It was the last thing she said. The conversation was over.

Elliot sniffed loudly and turned back towards the windscreen, now concentrating on the task at hand; nailing the suspect. An hour later they found triumph, collaring the perp. and hauling him back to the House. They induced the truth to spill from his lips through a barrage of conflicting interrogation techniques, learning of how he had kidnapped and raped three little girls before stuffing their tiny bodies into boxes and throwing them into the Hudson.

Olivia felt nauseous as she walked home that night, a combination of another horrific case and the acknowledgement of her impending departure. Tomorrow was her day off and thus her day of departure. Her letter of resignation was written and ready to give to the Captain, the notice on her apartment was paid and all other loose ends had been tied. Except Elliot, she thought sadly.

Grabbing a bottle of whisky from a kitchen cabinet, Olivia filled a tumbler with a large measure, gulping it down quickly before pouring another, this one to sip and savour. She made her way into her bedroom, her bare feet padding silently on the wooden floor. Rifling through a drawer, she grabbed the large, baggy NYPD T-shirt she wore whenever looking for comfort. She let out a snort as she pulled the garment over her naked flesh, of course it was Elliot's.

Slouching onto the bed, whisky in one hand, Olivia opened her bedside drawer, retrieving the picture she kept there for safety and security. A smile etched its way upon her lips as she remembered the day it was taken. They had been celebrating her birthday, something that she still couldn't get used to after so many years of missed childhood celebrations. The team had surprised her at the end of shift, whisking her off to a bar before she chance to protest. Elliot had gone one step further, surprising her with her most precious gift; a beautiful, intricate gold pendent, so classic, so timeless.

His smile as he placed the chain upon her neck had been so special. That moment, of her reaction to his hands brushing against the bare skin of her neck, of his reaction to giving her the gift, was caught on film by the ever-dutiful Detective Munch and now, looking at the picture for the thousandth time, Olivia's heart fluttered just as it had the moment the picture was taken.

Sighing deeply, Olivia clutched the picture and padded back through her apartment and into the kitchen. Her second tumbler was now empty and she stared at the bottle on the worktop contemplating a third. The decision was made for her by the loud knock at her door. She knew who it was, she didn't need to look. Instead she opted to wait, knowing full well he'd use his key if he had to.

"Olivia?," she heard from the hallway, "please...let me in."

Remaining silent, Olivia opted for a third glass of the harsh amber nectar and strolled over to the sofa, tucking her knees against her chest as she made herself comfortable.

"Liv, Liv!" he yelled, "I know you're there Liv, c'mon!"

Olivia sipped from her glass sadly, he sounded so desperate, so frustrated and full of resignation, as though the fight would float out of him at any minute. But that was good, that's what she wanted; him to give up and forget about her. I'm not worth it, she thought bitterly, not worth your love.

And sure enough, the key turned in the lock and the door to her apartment swung open and slammed quickly shut again with Elliot now on the inside. Not daring to look up at him Olivia remained rooted to her spot on the couch, her lips suckling at the drink clutched between her shaking hands.

His breathing was loud, heaving from within his broad chest as he surveyed the scene. Boxes were strewn across the floor, taped shut and labelled with her belongings The picture frames, although few, that dressed her otherwise bare living room were now gone, packed away or thrown away, he wasn't sure which. Then his gaze fell upon the body of the woman on the sofa, curled into herself and giving the childlike impression that she was much, much younger than her 38 years. He watched as she raised the glass to her lips and swallowed a healthy measure of the whisky it contained, watching as she winced slightly at the burn it gave her throat.

Fuck this shit! He spat silently into his mind.

Stalking across the room Elliot snatched the glass from Olivia's hands just as she was about to pour the remaining liquid down her throat. Her eyes snapped to his, angry and alive with fight.

"No!" he pushed out through gritted teeth, "you don't get to be the one who's angry here Olivia."

He threw the remainder of her drink down his own throat before launching into a tirade of bitterness.

"So, what exactly is this...?" he said, gesturing to the room around them, "you leaving...again?"

Olivia felt her voice leave her body, too timid to compete with his bellowing boom. She simply nodded. She was prepared for this, for him to come to the apartment, but now that he was here, looming over her, spouting words of hatred, she lost her nerve...she was that shy eight year old again, unable to stand up to her angry mother. Curling into herself more, Olivia swiped a hand against her face, wiping away the few rogue tears that had betrayed her cool, calm exterior.

Elliot sneered at her from above, "why am I not surprise? The moment things get tough off you go, running into the wind."

"Elliot, please..." she whispered, her voice tiny in comparison to his, "...I have to leave. Just let me go."

She felt his hands on her, strong arms lifting her from the spot on the sofa to stand and face him properly. Locking her gaze with his, she saw for the first time that his eyes weren't angry, not really, they were desperate and pleading, begging for her to stay. He gripped her shoulders tightly, his touch burning into her skin and causing her flesh to bloom with pleasure. Damnit, she chided internally, now is not the time to let him affect you!

"Why Liv, why are you leaving?" he said as he shook her slightly, jerking her back into the moment.

"I-I...er...El...please don't do this," Olivia begged, her eyes wide and glistening with fresh tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

"I have to do this Liv," he whispered as he brought his forehead down to hers, "I can't let the woman I love go without a fight, without at least knowing I did everything I could to try and make her stay."

The first tear fell, his words breaking her heart. I love you too, so much! She wanted to yell, but again her voice betrayed her.

"I'm not worth it El, I'm not worth your fight."

Olivia broke free from his clutches and ran to the bathroom, locking herself inside and finally allowing the tears to flow freely. Elliot followed, standing at the closed door, willing his own composure not to fail him.

"You are Liv," he shouted through the barrier, "you are worth more than you know. You are worth everything."

And with that, Elliot left, closing the door to her apartment and hoping he had done enough to make her stay, if only for a little while.